Posted in Reviews on April 20th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
What day is it? What day was it? I feel like my days are almost as screwed up as my tenses in these posts, so at least I’m being accurate to an experience outside of normal spacetime. Years ago it was Planet Roadburn. I feel like nowadays it’s more its own dimension.
My day started at V39. I knew Witch Club Satan were up at Koepelhal ripping to shreds the patriarchal paradigms in and beyond black metal — and that’s an effort worth supporting — but after seeing videos, I kind of felt like it would be too much on a sensory level, so I decided to hit a panel discussion: ‘Keeping it Creative: How to foster creativity and authenticity in a content demanding world.’ Relevant to my interests, to be sure.
Today, Walter’s annual Q&A will be in the same space, and that always draws a crowd, but this did too. I sat up in the back as the room filled in, curious to hear thoughts on the new economics of attention as regards algorithmic capitulation/manipulation, and I have my own opinions on the subject as well, which is surely no surprise.
The panel had professionals from management, labels like Century Media and The Flenser and Evil Greed, the band Uniform and the solo artist Denisa, both of whom who’d be playing later. Discussions of keeping a true sense of self amid commodification, “playing with the monster” in terms of spreading content, and it was a fascinating array of perspectives. It was not only esoterics, either. They were taking about posting tshirts and such, too. Real life, and especially interesting to hear from Denisa, who noted that she grew up with social media as part of her life, native to it, and how it was always a part of her process as well as her shift from poppier fare to the less-accessible heavy sounds she makes now. Mike from Uniform, on the other hand, had the older punker’s take: “I’d rather be dead than have to play a fucking character.”
Fair. It was a good conversation, and in the Q&A when the topic turned to AI, it was takes from never-never-never to if-you-can’t-beat-em-find-your-own-way and the very real answer that human artists will keep making art regardless of what computers do. It’s a complex question, and I agree that it’s not a thing worth debating when it’s already happening. If you wanted to stop it, you’re at least a decade late. Needless to say, everything on this site, most especially my favorite Quarterly Review banner, was composed in ChatGPT. I’ve never been a real person. There is no me there.
Nonetheless, I did feel a little more human when the panel was done and the thing I most wanted to do was go back to the hotel room and brush my teeth again. Too much coffee in the 013 office while blurbing in the morning, which I’ll just call a hazard of the trade, had my mouth feeling particularly nasty, so I hoofed back over instead of taking a more direct route to see Steve Von Till on the Main Stage. The former Neurosis guitarist/vocalist has his new solo album, Alone in a World of Wounds, out next month of course on Neurot, and has brought LPs with him in addition to doing a Harvestman set Friday with songs from the three records he released last year with that project. And he and Thomas Hooper have a show at the art gallery as well. A genuine residency.
The very definition of a Roadburn veteran — the first Roadburn I ever came to was 2009, the year Neurosis curated; if I’m honest, I’m still not done grieving how that band ended — I think it might also have been Von Till’s first time solo on the Main Stage, unless he was there in my lost years, 2022-’23. I’d have to check the Archiving Heaviness wall. Or, you know, the internet.
Von Till got on mic before the set, thanked the room, the crowd, Walter and Becky, the crew, the bar staff, and so on. He introduced Dave French (now also of YOB) on drums/synth and cellist Brent Arnold, who’s done string arrangements for Von Till’s solo records since 2020’s No Wilderness Deep Enough (review here), and said they were going to get lost in their version of soul music for the next hour and anyone who wanted to do the same was welcome. Paraphrasing. With a fullness of rumble from the drone beneath him, of the cello and synth both, sitting at a grand piano or standing with a guitar, Von Till opened himself up and bled songs for that hour. Raw, contemplative and thoroughly his own sound, expanded greatly from the days when his arrangements were mostly voice and acoustic, but very much rooted in the same craft and intimacy. And making a show personal with 2,500 or however many people were in the room is a rare gift that Von Till has carved for himself out of whatever kind of rare and ancient wood it was, not cynically, but as an artist committed to their purpose.
I don’t know how long it had been since I saw him last, but there was something reassuring about it in addition to the resonance of the melancholy. After doing about a song and a half of photos — I’ve been limiting myself to roughly that per act; the house rule is three songs — I went up to the balcony to watch more before shifting my wobbly physicality to the a Next Stage for Welsh folk expansionists Tristwch Y Fenwod. Despite being in the room half an hour before they went on, I was too late to get a spot in the front, but I put myself where I could and was like two people back.
However, by the time they went on (their scheduled time, mind you; it’s not like they were late), I was done standing there. The room had filled in significantly — when I left, the line snaked past the far entrance to the Main Stage — and it was uncomfortable. Nothing anyone did, just me being out of place in my body, which at 43 feels a little extra sad, but there you go. They were super-cool, with the dulcimer, electric drums, and bass, and laptop running other noises and such, but I couldn’t take the crowd press. My head started to hurt and I left. It was still their first song.
I ended up on the line for Temple Fang’s secret show at the skate park, which had been announced through the TMSQR app. I wasn’t the first one hanging out by the entrance to the Hall of Fame, out the back door there, but I was early enough to be toward the front of the queue. That meant sitting next to the garbage can, which was less preferential as regards smell, but so it goes. The door opened at about 5:30, and by then the line was long since around the corner farther than I could see.
The weather was beautiful, which made sitting outside not so terrible — cool but sunny; perfect for a flannel and so perfect for me — but I was anxious to get in and could hear them soundchecking outside with parts of “Once” and “The River.” Those two songs would comprised the entirety of the set — that’s like 40 minutes, just so you know — and it was the second spiritual realignment Temple Fang handed my ass this weekend.
The door opened and I went and parked myself in front of the stage. Jevin de Groot came through just before they went on and thumbed third eyes on me and the four or five other people sitting on the same skate-block. Thus was I blessed. And I’m not going to say I’ll never wash my forehead again, because I will, but the urge to have it tattooed is there. It was a big one too. Way open.
Admittedly, this is not the most third-eye-open time through which I’ve lived — in fact, it’s hands-down the stupidest year of my existence if you want to look at the full context of it — but it didn’t matter. I wrote not one word while Temple Fang played, which was a first for the weekend I realized after the fact, and did my best to put the camera down after like five minutes. For my reasoning, I’ll quote “Once”: “Once you feel the sadness/You become the sadness/Once you let it go/It finds another home/Shackles will explode.” While Temple Fang played, I let it go and found what I came here for. Open third eye or not, I was in it.
Understand this: I’m not looking to escape my life. My life is fucking incredible. To wit, I’m at my 13th Roadburn. I have everything and everyone I could ever want and the dog besides. I’m not trying to escape that. I’m trying to escape me.
For just a little while, Temple Fang gave me peace in my head, and when they were done I teared up. There’s a Midwife shirt in the merch that says on the back, “I cried at a Midwife show.” I get that. But I sat there at the skate park with my thumbprinted forehead and breathed in the basslines, felt the snare pops in my head, and I promise you that whatever portion of my remaining hearing I sacrificed taking my earplugs out (also a weekend first), it was worth it. I can’t promise you I haven’t said that before about Temple Fang either. I could go on for hours, days, but healthy emotional processing would have to wait because ØXN would soon be on the Main Stage.
They were, in fact, spread across it with a four-piece lineup with Radie Peat from Lankum, who were here last year, and Percolator, about whom I know nothing beyond the association. The electro-folk blend worked to make “Down in the Greenwood Valley” a dance number, and they opened with an synth-ambient take on “O’Death,” but while some (not all) of the material was traditional, the aesthetic was modern while still highlighting the human element through harmonized voice, keys and live drums.
I took a few pictures and ran downstairs for a quick dinner, which I guess is a thing I do now? I had breakfast this morning — scrambled eggs and cheese, a couple pieces of coldcut chicken breast, which I’m pretty sure isn’t poisonous here like it is at home — but missed lunch. So in about six minutes I did to a plate of chicken, salad and meatballs what Throwing Bricks and Ontaard did to The Engine Room on Friday afternoon as far as destroying it with max efficiency. After that, it was back upstairs to ØXN for a while, then I decided to hop over to Next Stage where Japan’s Kuunatic would soon go on. I wouldn’t get there in time to shoot it, and sure enough the room was on its way to full with about 15 minutes to go before the set, but I was more than content to hang out up in the back for a while as the Japanese folk-informed psych rockers got going.
Playing it by ear is a particular kind of Roadburn ideal. The notion that one would be so willing to take the ride as far as discovery goes and step outside their comfort zone, whatever that might be; it’s the Enlightened Roadburn. To be at peace with the clashes on the timetable and wander like a monk (or a shaman if you’re Lee) from one venue to another. To know that it’s okay if you don’t see everything because no one does, and to realize that the place you want to be is wherever you are, or if not, that you can change that. I don’t know if it’s something to aspire to since it feels like maybe aspiration is some of what you’re shucking off, but it’s a way. I’ve been trying to have less of a plan, take fewer pictures, smile more. I still run away from socializing, but I’m trying.
It was a whim that took me to ØXN and a whim that took me to Kuunatic, so no regrets. The oft-harmonized three-piece found life in bringing together heavy rock basslines and rhythmic tension with more traditional Japanese instruments in the surrounding arrangements as well as the vocals. Yes, not the first meeting of then and now, stylistically, and it wouldn’t be the last, but their melodies and punchy drums and bass were immersively full, which was already more than one might ask.
I started to get itchy and was on my way back to the Main Stage and stopped long enough to see the publicist Ilka Pardiñas, whom I’ve known for over 20 years at this point. She was standing in a group with the writer Jamie Ludwig, who is a fellow Weirdo Canyon Dispatch veteran, and former Goatsnake bassist Guy Pinhas, who I’m pretty sure still works at Southern Lord Europe, and who took time out of his day to call me a fascist for going to the social media panel this morning and using social media at all.
Save me from dudes and their opinions. Surely I had that coming, somehow? Surprisingly unhelpful to anything more than making me think someone whose work I’ve respected and written about favorably in the past is a jerk. He so clearly had been waiting all day to show off that Opinion™ of his about a thing. Yawn. Guy Pinhas thinks I’m a fascist. What an honor. I should get a tshirt made. Nice to know even Roadburn can have an oldschool bully or two hanging around. Here’s my review of when he played with Victor Griffin in 2013. Here’s my review of when he was here with Wino as part of The Obsessed in 2012.
I said, “Cool,” and walked away a short time later. Nice to see you, Ilka. It had been a while.
There was little time to be insulted by someone who doesn’t know me in the slightest but was happy to presume all kinds of bullshit about me and then namedrop Noam Chomsky’s Manufacturing Consent to complete the Gen-X-punker-with-useless-and-14-year-old-level-insight cliché, because Dutch-Turkish psych rockers Altın Gün were soon to take the Main Stage. I refused to let that downer experience get me down, and sure enough, rejuvenation was had in a succession of slick grooves and mellow Turkish-psych vibes. They were one of the first announcements for this year, and not knowing the band previously, it was a “huh, bet that’ll be cool” kind of prospect. Turned out very much that way. I guess there’s an element of trust involved with a lot of festivals, but not everybody pushes those boundaries like Roadburn, and the reward for that is the people dancing as Altın Gün played under the strobing reds and blues. Badass.
And like much of what I’d taken in throughout the day, it was a mixture of forms. Turkish and Mediterranean psych are traditions unto themselves, and for sure they were in line with that, but again, a modern take. Roadburn’s whole thing these last years has been respecting the past, moving forward. I don’t know how many times that line occurred to me across the different performances. All you have to do is stand in front of a stage to see it. I don’t want to generalize in describing Altın Gün’s sound, because I recognize they put their show together specifically for Roadburn, but even if this is only a partial representation of what they do, they obviously knew what they were doing when they picked the songs. Even on the balcony, dancing and clapping. Not everybody, but not nobody either.
I’m not sure whether you’d call Altın Gün the headliner — kind of felt like a headlining set for whatever that’s worth — but they were neck deep in a percussion solo as the hour passed 10 and they only pushed the party from there to the extra-funky, extra-bassy finish. Chat Pile closed the Main Stage though, following up on their skate park show Friday. They just this week released a live album recorded at Roadburn 2023, and are supporting that as well as their 2024 album, Cool World (review here), which has continued to earn rare hype in the months since its release for remaking noise rock in its image and having something to say about the world around it. I’m not arguing. This was my first time seeing them. Apart from Steve Von Till, today was once again all firsts, and I didn’t even make it to pg.99.
Chat Pile’s line check had been the loudest thing I heard all day, so naturally their set followed suit. I have to wonder how they’re not called Americana, the Oklahomans sure reminded me of the country of my birth in their resonant disaffection as much as the sludgiest of their riffs, but that’s been the thing all along, right? That intangible thing that separates Chat Pile from the hordes, actively noticed by people like me only long after they’ve already taken off in the hopes of saying something new about a band everybody’s talking about. I’ll say I got more of the nü metal live than from the records, but it’s not like they were doing Korn slappa-bass — next record, maybe — just purposefully dissonant while being thick in tone. The volume level stayed high except for between songs when frontman Raygun Busch — the band is Busch, guitarist Luther Manhole, bassist Stin, and drummer Cap’n Ron — regaled the main hall with some choice ad-libbed banter before the next round of agonized harsh-throat barks and/or spoken word in the songs.
I’m still not sure I like Chat Pile, as in being a fan, but they flattened a room with like 3,000 people in it and sounded ready to take on more, so maybe they’re the band that now needs somehow. Maybe primal is the thing.
That was where I left it. Somebody clearly trying to make it outside who perhaps was not in the best capacity to judge their ability to do so had puked on the stairs, and I was glad to use the other side as I made my way down and out to wrap the night.
Today is Roadburn Sunday, the last day of what’s been an incredible and surprisingly quick time. Thank you if you’ve kept up so far. I know it’s a lot. It’s a lot when you’re here, too, but mostly a life-affirming lot. Thanks for reading. More pics after the jump.
Posted in Features on December 19th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
[PLEASE NOTE: These are not the results of the year-end poll, which ends in January. If you haven’t contributed your picks yet, please do so here.]
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Hi, and welcome to The Obelisk’s year in review for 2024. This is a thing that’s kind of developed over the 15-plus years the site’s been in operation, and it’s something that people sometimes tell me has been a help when it comes to finding new music. I know for myself as well, I’ve referred back to these lists a lot in subsequent years, to see where bands were and where my head was, and so on. Are best-of lists meaningful, at all, in any way? Probably to the person making them, and that’s me, so I’ll proceed.
I thought the format last year worked pretty well, so I’ve hijacked it for use here. Not something I expect anyone to notice, but I did want to mention it on the off-chance. I don’t have a best live album of the year, but there are a few worth talking about, surely.
It’s been a busy, fast year. The barrage of music is overwhelming — and as problems go, that’s among the best ones to have — but I do think we’re seeing some tapering off. Generational turnover is, in fact, a constant, but the 2020s are taking shape now with bands who started making their name around the mid-2010s shifting into headliner status, new bands coming up beneath, more diverse in sound and construction, and with new ideas. This isn’t universal, but it is the ideal vision of the thing. Circle of life and such.
But it’s a lot. Including the 50-releases-strong Quarterly Review last week, I’m well north of having reviewed 400 total different mostly-full-lengths since January. That’s insane. The math is obvious, but I’ll point out anyhow that you could buy an album for every day of the year and have enough for an extra month-plus afterward. An astonishing amount of music, and I’m by no means reviewing everything.
Which brings me to the inevitable last point. I haven’t reviewed everything. If you’re here wondering where Opeth and Blood Incantation are landing on my list, they aren’t. Nothing against either of them, I just haven’t dug into the records since I knew I wouldn’t be reviewing them. The regular standard of doing as much as I can, when I can, about as much as I can, applies.
Please if you disagree with some pick below or other — and if you do, that’s healthy — I kindly ask you to keep things civil in the comments. I’m not here to call people out on enjoying things I don’t — fascism aside — and I know it makes me sad when I break my ass for days to put this together and the first comment is, “NO [WHOEVER]. LIST SUCKS. NEVER READING THIS FILTH AGAIN,” etc. Before you comment, please take a second to read what you put back to yourself for kindness. That’s good for spelling too, not that I’d know.
That’s all the stalling I can do. Time to dive in. Happy holidays.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2024
**NOTE**: If you’re looking for something specific, try a text search.
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60-31
60. Psychlona, Warped Vision
59. Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, The Mind Like Fire Unbound
58. Massive Hassle, Unreal Damage
57. Temple of the Fuzz Witch, Apotheosis
56. Space Shepherds, Cycler
55. Abrams, Blue City
54. Castle Rat, Into the Realm
53. Heath, Isaak’s Marble
52. Weite, Oase
51. Cosmic Fall, Back Where the Fire Flows
50. Troy the Band, Cataclysm
49. Sunnata, Chasing Shadows
48. Skraeckoedlan, Vermillion Sky
47. Acid Mammoth, Supersonic Megafauna Collision
46. Deer Creek, The Hiraeth Pit
45. Big Scenic Nowhere, The Waydown
44. Grin, Hush
43. The Swell Fellas, Residuum Unknown
42. The Gates of Slumber, The Gates of Slumber
41. Coltaine, Forgotten Ways
40. Mountain of Misery, The Land
39. Mammoth Volume, Raised Up by Witches
38. Delving, All Paths Diverge
37. High on Fire, Cometh the Storm
36. Thou, Umbilical
35. The Giraffes, Cigarette
34. Fu Manchu, The Return of Tomorrow
33. Full Earth, Cloud Sculptors
32. Daevar, Amber Eyes
31. Causa Sui, From the Source
Notes:
Just in case you’re the type of person who’d say, “Oh how could you have a top 60? after a certain number it’s all the same,” I’ll admit that’s true, but 60 is apparently nowhere near the ‘certain number’ in question for me this year. I agonized over this part of the list. More than the top 30, and more than picking a best short release, best debut, or anything else. I wanted basically a second top 30, and I feel like if I saw this as that, as 30-1, I’d congratulate whoever submitted it on their taste. But maybe that’s just me agreeing with myself.
I like the mix of up and comers and established acts here. Sunnata and Skraeckoedlan, The Giraffes, of course High on Fire, Deer Creek and so on, mixing with up and comers like Full Earth, Daevar, Acid Mammoth, Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Heath, Troy the Band and Weite. I feel somewhat compelled to justify my High on Fire placement, especially looking at the results so far of the year-end poll. They’re amazing, they’re devastating, they’re a singular live act, but I just didn’t listen to the record that much. There. A big part of me feels like it should be top 10 just by virtue of who the band are, but if I did that for everybody who deserved it, I wouldn’t have room for anything new. All I can do is be honest to my own listening habits and opinions. I know High on Fire are really, really good. I know this album is really, really good. That’s why it’s on this list. Should it be higher? Probably. I’m doing my best.
Thank you for your kind attention in this matter. Also, listen to The Giraffes.
You won’t hear me say a downer word about An Earlier Time‘s quieter stretches, but it’s the sweeping moments like “Limitless” that find Boston’s Sundrifter making the most resonant impression. Their third full-length and the follow-up to 2018’s Visitations (review here), it was a strong declaration of who Sundrifter want to be as they continue to grow, and deserved more love than I saw that it got.
Oh, look out for Mr. Blogosphere. He’s out here taking a real risk putting Tranquonauts on the year-end list, like the combining of forces between Melbourne, Australia, heavy psych blues rockers Seedy Jeezus and guitarist Isaiah Mitchell wasn’t gonna work the second time around? Wow, Mitchell‘s and Lex Waterreus‘ guitars sure do sound awesome together. Oh — it’s a hot-take! Better get your react videos ready. The internet is terrible. This album offers escape from it.
At the risk of having to give back my Music-Journalism-Level membership to the Sycophant Society, I’ll dare to point out that Chat Pile are way, way hyped. That happens sometimes. It’s not like they’re out there being like, “Hey we’re the noise rock white dudes shifting paradigms for noise rock white dudes, best in a generation.” It’s people like me with all the hyperbole and comma splicing. I get that too. It’s a sound geared toward inciting a strong reaction, from the sneering sarcasm of the title down. By the way, am I the only one who looks at the title Cool World and thinks of the 1992 semi-animated film of the same name? I kind of hope so. See? Big feelings all around.
Rest assured, I don’t, but if I had any friends, I’d be like, “Hey, you should check out this band Gnome from Belgium. They’ve got fun riffs and they beat you over the head with them until you remember them by heart.” And these ‘friends’ would be all, “Wow man, that sounds definitely like something I would ever want to introduce to the scope of my life experiences! Thank you! I’m so glad to be your friend and the world is definitely a better place with you in it.” And then everybody’s day is better, all because of sharing and the shenanigans-laced riff metal proffered by these three behatted miscreants from Antwerpen.
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26. Brant Bjork Trio, Once Upon a Time in the Desert
Brant Bjork‘s solo band begat Stöner, and Stöner begat Brant Bjork Trio as Bjork, drummer Ryan Güt and bassist Mario Lalli (Fatso Jetson, Mario Lalli and the Rubber Snake Charmers, Yawning Man, etc.). I’ll cop to being a nerd for Brant Bjork‘s output generally — it’s a kind of cool so definitively Californian, my NJ-ass self can’t help but admire it — but the chemistry in Once Upon a Time in the Desert is on point to an undeniable degree, and the songs are a reminder of how the back catalog got so strong in the first place. What else could you want?
Five albums in, a post-arrival Sergeant Thunderhoof stand ready. They know who they are, what they want their songs to do, why and how to make it happen. The Ghost of Badon Hill gives a conceptual focus to unite material intentionally sprawling, and lets listeners immerse in a narrative all the more easily for the quality of its songcraft. Self-recorded, it is masterful in performance and assured of its execution, pored over but not overworked; the happy accidents might have been left in on purpose, but they still sound like accidents. And Sergeant Thunderhoof still sound like a band driving themselves toward the unknown.
Doom metal is lucky to have Early Moods laying out a template for the next generation to hopefully follow. The Los Angeles five-piece’s second full-length, A Sinner’s Past, refined the lurch of their 2022 self-titled (review here), and the combination of hard touring and progressive craft continues to bode well as they look toward their next offering. They’ve put in their work, however swift their ascent to this point might feel, and they’re about one great record away from standing among the best doom of the 21st century. You could easily argue they’re already there. Every reason is accounted for on A Sinner’s Past.
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23. Morpholith, Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics
Iceland’s Morpholith enter the conversation with Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics, which has cosmic-doom breadth and bong-metal crush to spare in the first four minutes of “Psychophere” alone, never mind anything that surrounds. The band’s debut is a bombastic plodder, beating out the march to a futuristic — and cold — vision of the riff-filled land that may or may not be Reykjavik in the wintertime while simultaneously being both very much of weed and not outwardly about it, seeming to have much more than addled, Mid Atlantic Ridge-heavy riff worship because — look out! — they do. If cosmic doom is ever going to be more than a loose thread connecting YOB and Ufomammut, bands like Morpholith need to keep pushing it forward like this. “Dismalium.” I dare you.
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22. Lamp of the Universe Meets Dr. Space, Enters Your Somas
Lamp of the Universe is multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, producer and vocalist Craig Williamson, based in New Zealand. Dr. Space is synthesist, keyboardist, producer, bootlegger and bandleader Scott Heller. The ‘meeting’ of these two expanded minds takes place over two extended tracks, one vinyl side per, of lush psychedelic and multi-tiered drones, absolutely perfect for the zone-out hypnosis you’ve been trying to put yourself in all day but for that pesky consciousness. I wish I could come up with some kind of ritual awesome enough for the keyboard textures in “Enters Your Somas” or the propulsive space rock thuddenchug of “Infiltrates Your Mind,” but some sounds are just too cool for the planet. Come see how the freaks get down.
I spent some significant time with Dool‘s The Shape of Fluidity this Spring, before and after seeing them at Roadburn (review here), which was another highlight of the year. The album’s triumph, in songwriting, in transcending genre bounds and in conveying its theme of breaking loose from the gender binary, gave my parent-of-a-trans-kid self a hopeful vision of a future beyond dark, hateful rhetoric or implied/real violence. It showed me a possible path to victory on what will be and already is a hard road. It was there when I needed it, which is a specific ideal of art providing care. I’ll never forget that.
Granted the Western soundscaping at the outset of the eponymous “Buzzard” lays it on thick, but it’s supposed to! We’re talking fire-and-brimstone earthbound Americana folk with a doomly rhythmic cast, given the self-aware title of Doom Folk by the solo artist Buzzard, aka Christopher Thomas Elliott, laying it on thick is the point. Elliott has a follow-up out soon already. Thinking of Doom Folk as the beginning of a creative progression makes its nuance and individualist drive even more exciting, but the rawness of this debut, the straightforwardness of its structures and the resulting memorability are part of the appeal for sure.
Seven bangers. Not a dud in the bunch. Two nine-minute songs and you still couldn’t say a moment of High Desert Queen‘s rightly anticipated sophomore LP is wasted. Not when you’re building up to the roll of “Head Honcho,” certainly. The Texas outfit built on the good-time largesse and party-but-not-a-party-so-cool-you-don’t-feel-welcome vibing of 2021’s Secrets of the Black Moon (review here) and set themselves vociferously to the task of being the change in heavy rock that they wanted to hear. Palm Reader‘s infectiousness is a strength, both in terms of a catchy piece like “Ancient Aliens” or “Time Waster,” and also in the overarching positive-framed mood and heart so clearly put into the material.
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18. Ufomammut, Hidden
Released by Supernatural Cat and Neurot Recordings. Reviewed May 21.
Now a quarter-century on from their start, Italian trio Ufomammut have yet to put out a record that didn’t sound like a forward step from the one before it. And Hidden is their 10th album. The band are progenitors and refiners of a cosmic doom sound that is unto itself, and cuts like “Kismet” and “Leeched” manage to be both lumbering in their massive-tone grooves and sprawling with a synthy ambience that, though certainly influential, is immediately recognizable as Ufomammut. Hidden is part of a creative trajectory, to be sure, and the arc is ongoing, but there’s more than enough substance here to leave a crater behind in the listener’s brain.
In its arrangement as five separate dreams taking place over its component tracks, the only thing Pentasomnia doesn’t take into account is that another Iota LP was a dream all on its own even before music actually happened. A full 16 years after shaking the galaxy’s core with their 2008 debut, Tales (discussed here, and here), the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano (Dwellers, Hibernaut), drummer/producer Andy Patterson (The Otolith, ex-SubRosa, etc.) and bassist Oz Yasri (ex-Bird Eater) making a comeback — let alone it actually being good — was nigh on unthinkable. Then you heard “The Intruder” and reality shifted just a bit. Pretty sweet.
Few albums in 2024 were as entrancing as Langt, Langt Vekk, the hopefully-not-a-one-off collaboration between Norwegian progressive heavy instrumentalists Kanaan and neofolk contemporaries Ævestaden. Both adventurous outfits in their own right, the combination of elements, from live drums and synth to traditional plucked strings and Norwegian-language vocal choruses, works stunningly well. That little bit of fuzz in “Habbor og Signe,” or the cymbal wash behind “Dalebu Jonsson” — the songs are full of these little nuances or flourishes waiting to be found, but even with the most superficial of listens, the achievement resounds, whether one approaches from a viewpoint of heavy rock, prog, folk or psychedelia.
You know, I’ve kind of dug DVNE records all along, and I can’t really call Voidkind a surprise after 2021’s Etemen Ænka (review here), but these songs — “Eleonora,” “Sarmatae,” “Abode of the Perfect Soul,” among others — hit me much harder than I had expected, and the more I listened to try to twist my head around “Reliquary,” the more the album as a whole revealed of its character and detail. I review a lot of stuff, and I hear more than I review, so I don’t always get pulled back by every record, but Voidkind kept calling for return visits.
Look. If you’re reading this, I know I don’t have to tell you about Orange Goblin. Even if you don’t already have a soft spot for the long-running UK doom rockers, they’re perfectly happy to pummel one into you with Science, Not Fiction, their first album since 2018 and a realignment toward a harder-edged heavy rock sound, where the last, say, two records had leaned more metal. I heard some griping about the production not helping, but I heard absolutely nothing to complain about here. The band are on fire and the recording shows it, the songs aren’t necessarily any great progressive leap but for sure they’re Orange Goblin songs, and for a band who owes nobody proof of anything, they set a high standard and deliver accordingly, like god damned professionals should.
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13. Spaceslug, Out of Water
Released by Electric Witch Mountain Recordings. Reviewed May 14.
What I didn’t get about Spaceslug until I finally saw them live at Desertfest New York (review here) was just how metal the impact of their songs can get. It’s not necessarily that they’ve grown more aggressive, unless you want to incorporate harsh vocals or shouting — “Tears of Antimatter” also has gently-delivered barely-there spoken word, so it depends on the story you want to tell — but the blend of melancholic doom, heavy psychedelia and melodic fluidity that has become Spaceslug‘s stylistic wheelhouse is not to be missed. Out of Water finds them at their broadest and least concerned with genre, and brings into relief how special a band they’ve become. Also it rocks.
No secret how Craneium are doing it on Point of No Return; it’s right there in the songs. All of them. “One Thousand Sighs,” “The Sun,” “A Distant Shore,” “…Of Laughter and Cries,” “Things Have Changed” and “Search Eternal.” Texture and hooks, heft and scope and melody and crash and shove, classy progressive execution and swaggering conjurations. Most of all, songs that stay with you. Chances are, if you heard this record and gave it its due attention at some point in your time with it, you didn’t have to do much more than read the titles to have the tracks playing in your head. That’s not a coincidence. It’s craft. It’s a willful outreach on the part of the band and material. It’s what makes you want to sing along. And why would you not?
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11. Guhts, Regeneration
Released by Seeing Red Records and New Heavy Sounds. Reviewed Feb. 5.
More on it below, but for the moment, suffice it to say that the bludgeoning and/or scathe of Regeneration at its most intense and the depths its mix seemed to find, the debut full-length from New York post-metallers Guhts dared visceral emotionality in a way few records so heavy could or would hope to. The willing-to-break-her-voice-if-necessary performance of Amber Gardner and the weighted undulations surrounding from guitarist Scott Prater, bassist Daniel Martinez and drummer Brian Clemens, the open sway, unfettered crush, and quiet spaces offsetting all that bombast result in both a chaotic feel and an applicable world. Therefore it must be modern. Fine. It sounds like the future.
As to how Philadelphia’s Heavy Temple managed to fit so much swagger onto a single platter, you’d have to ask them, but their second album, Garden of Heathens, landed hard in tone and attitude alike. Songs like “Extreme Indifference to Life,” “House of Warship” and the galloping payoff of “Jesus Wept” ahead of the thrashy finale “Psychomanteum” affirmed what was set out in 2021’s Lupi Amoris (review here) and their earlier short releases while marking out and conquering decisively new territory in their sound. I know it was recorded two years ago or something like that, but it’s still a band beginning to realize their potential in craft and performance, and if a third LP happens sooner than later, so much the better.
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9. 1000mods, Cheat Death
Released by Ouga Booga and the Mighty Oug and Ripple Music. Reviewed Nov. 11.
Whether one embraces Cheat Death because the songs kick ass or because 1000mods are so vivid and uncompromising in pushing themselves forward from release to release, I don’t think you’re wrong. The forerunners of their generation in Greek heavy rock remain among the finest Europe’s heavy underground have to offer, and the atmosphere they’re able to conjure alongside the straight-ahead Matt Bayles-produced punk-metal hooks of these songs is emblematic of why. Without ever giving up their foundation in heavy rock, 1000mods have consistently refined their processes and grown as songwriters. The joke of Cheat Death is how alive the material feels.
Faced with the considerable task of following up the to-date album of their career, Elektrik Ram (review here), just one year later, South African heavy rockers Ruff Majik did not flinch. Instead, Moth Eater takes the outright charge and sharpness-minded efficiency of its predecessor in a stated trilogy that began with 2020’s The Devil’s Cattle (review here) and sets it as the foundation for a confident, creative growth and sustainable expansion of sound. They’re a little more willing to dwell in parts, and they’re well aware of how catchy they can be, but also, they know the power of momentum and they’re fully in control of the narratives they’re telling. As Moth Eater readily demonstrates, it’s hard to know which of that it is that makes them most dangerous.
It’s hard to overstate the accomplishment of Nell’ Ora Blu, and I’m well aware that the critical sphere is full of plenty who’ve spent the better part of 2024 trying. Reasonable. The completeness of the world Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats built in the work based around the concept of soundtracking a giallo film that didn’t exist was singularly evocative. With original dialogue recorded (in Italian) specifically for ‘movie’ ambience, Uncle Acid took what had always been an influence on the band’s sound within genre-cinema and its methods of storytelling, and flipped the process on its head by creating its own story. Their influence is already well spread throughout the heavy underground, for sure, but in bringing a vision to life, this might be the album Uncle Acid have been working toward all along.
A forward-thinking masterwork from even before “Deadname” sneaks a layer of acoustic guitar under the mountain of distortion in the verse lines and “Arrival” and “Transitions” give evocative chronicle to the album’s trans-experiential theme — it is the band’s first since guitarist/vocalist Simona Ohlsson transitioned, and admirable for both its projected triumph and vulnerability around that — the fifth full-length from Vokonis continues the progressive path they have walked for the last decade-plus. A lineup change has brought some shift in dynamic, but a new strength of voice behind the material that makes “Phantom Carriage,” “Chrysalis,” and, suitably enough, “Arrival,” feel like a declarative pinnacle, and having something to say makes the raw impact of its heaviest moments all the more powerful.
There’s little funnier to me about heavy rock as it exists in 2024 than the idea that Greenleaf would be a band people take for granted. “Oh, Tommi Holappa and Company putting out another collection of classic-heavy and blues-rocking bangers? Business as usual, I guess.” Until you listen to the album, maybe. Then you get the tumble of “Avalanche,” the hooks in “Breathe, Breathe Out,” and “A Wolf in My Mind,” the subdued-bluesy pair “That Obsidian Grin” and “An Alabastrine Smile” to remind how you much this band has been able to grow since Arvid Hällagård made his first appearance with them a decade ago, the way they’re able to move through a jam and land in a groove as solid as “Oh Dandelion,” reminiscent of Clutch in its start-stop funk but defined by its own persona. Every Greenleaf record is a gift. If feeling that way means I’m not impartial, good. We understand each other.
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4. Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, Big Dumb Riffs
Promises made, promises kept. Austin-based crunch purveyors Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol stripped any and all excess out of their approach on Big Dumb Riffs, resulting in a quick-feeling collection of memorable, heavy tracks that, whether fast like “1800EATSHIT” or slow like “In a Jar,” are united in the album’s central stated purpose. Already an established brand of heavy revelry, the three-piece didn’t change anything radically in aesthetic terms, but the songs found their target one after the other, front to back, and were clever and well composed, however willfully lunkheaded the central riffery might have been. They’re headed to Europe in Spring, and I’m already hearing rumors of a next record, so keep an eye out in 2025.
Slomosa‘s released-in-2020 self-titled debut (review here) was a salve to many in troubled times, representing a next-generation hope for underground heavy in energetically-delivered, classic-feeling songs. Tundra Rock, which gives a name to the band’s style seemingly in direct answer to anyone who might class them as ‘desert,’ confirms the Norwegian four-piece at the forefront of an up and coming cohort of younger acts beginning to find their expressive modus and step beyond their root influences. Tundra Rock finds Slomosa doing this while giving their dual-vocal live dynamic vibrant studio representation and growing their material in character and melody alike. Heavy rock and roll is Slomosa‘s for the taking.
A record that didn’t need to be loud to be heavy, Brume‘s Marten is without question my most-listened-to album of 2024. That needs no qualifying. I had high expectations going into it after seeing the San Francisco band at Desertfest New York 2022 (review here), and Marten surpassed every hope I might’ve been able to harness for it and then some. The collective voice of the band incorporating multiple viewpoints from bassist/vocalist/keyboardist Susie McMullan, guitarist/vocalist Jamie McCathie, drummer Jordan Perkins Lewis, and in her first appearance as a full-on member of the band, cellist/vocalist Jackie Perez Gratz (Grayceon, Amber Asylum, etc.), resulted in a fluid but deeply divergent collection, comprised of songs that went where they wanted to go — or didn’t, thank you very much — according to their own whims and purposes. It is a landmark for Brume and, if any number of subgenres are lucky, a blueprint from which others will hopefully learn.
I acknowledge breaking my own rules here — splits are always, until and including this year, categorized as short releases in these lists — but when it came to it, the thought of putting Elephant Tree and Lowrider‘s The Long Forever anywhere else, considering it as anything else, seemed ridiculous. Especially if you count writing the liner notes for it, I’ve gone on at length about the release as an intersection of crucial moments for the respective bands, with Lowrider following their first album in 20 years, Refractions (review here), and Elephant Tree answering the progressive statement of their own second LP, Habits (review here), both released in 2020. The storyline gets deeper as Elephant Tree also look to reestablish themselves following a near-fatal accident suffered by guitarist/vocalist Jack Townley, melding rawness of tone with lush vocal harmonies, and Lowrider drag fuzz-rock traditionalism kicking and screaming into a reality of being both fun and intelligent. There ultimately was nothing else to call The Long Forever than the album of the year. If that comes with an asterisk because it’s a split, it doesn’t lessen the effect of hearing it at all. So yeah, I’m breaking the rules of the game. I’m inconsistent. Unprofessional. Biased. I don’t know what to tell you except love makes you do crazy things. In these songs themselves — do I even need to talk about the collaboration — and in the drive behind them, that’s what most resonates here.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2024: Honorable Mention
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If the 60 above wasn’t enough, here are more leads to chase down, alphabetical but in kind of a hyper-specific, ass-backwards-seeming way:
Acid Rooster, Alber Jupiter, Altareth, Alunah, Astrometer, Bismarck, Black Capricorn, Blasting Rod, BleakHeart, Blue Heron, Bongripper, Boozewa, Caffeine, Carpet, Castle, Cleen, Clouds Taste Satanic, Codex Serafini, Cold in Berlin, Cortez, The Cosmic Dead, Crypt Sermon, Daily Thompson, Deadpeach, Deaf Wolf, Demon Head, Destroyer of Light, Dopethrone, Duel, Earth Ship, Elephant Tree, Emu, Familiars, Bill Fisher, 40 Watt Sun, Ghost Frog, Goat Major, Guenna, Heath, High Reeper, Hijss, Horseburner, Ian Blurton’s Future Now, Insect Ark, Inter Arma, Kelley Juett, Juke Cove, Kalgon, Kandodo, Kant, Kariti, Kungens Män (x2), Kurokuma, Leather Lung, Legions of Doom, Lord Buffalo, Magic Fig, Magick Brother & Mystic Sister, Magick Potion, Magmakammer, Mammoth Caravan, Massive Hassle, MC MYASNOI, Merlin, Methadone Skies, Monkey3, Morag Tong, The Mountain King, Mount Hush, MR.BISON, My Dying Bride, Myriad’s Veil, No Man’s Valley, Norna, The Obsessed, Oryx, Pallbearer, Patriarchs in Black, Pia Isa, Planet of Zeus, Red Mesa, Rezn, Rifflord, Sacri Monti, Sandveiss, Satan’s Satyrs, Saturnalia Temple, Scorched Oak, Sheepfucker & Kraut, Slift, Slower, Slow Green Thing, SoftSun, The Sonic Dawn, SONS OF ZÖKU, Spacedrifter, Spiral Grave, Spirit Mother, Stonebride, Sun Blood Stories, Sunface, Sun Moon Holy Cult, Swallow the Sun, The Swell Fellas, Swell O, Temple Fang, 10,000 Years, Thomas Greenwood and the Talismans, Thunderbird Divine, Tigers on Opium, Traum, 24/7 Diva Heaven, Valley of the Sun, Vlimmer, Void Commander, Weather Systems, The Whims of the Great Magnet, Whispering Void, White Hills, Per Wiberg, Esben Willems, Worshipper, WyndRider…
Notes:
With the eternal caveat that I’ll be adding to the honorable mentions for the next few days as people drop names they remembered and I forgot, I’ll say I can live with the list as it is now. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m happy with it, but I’ll live. I felt like there was just too much good stuff in the 60-30, stuff that deserved a better look, and god damn, look at the honorable mentions. You’re gonna tell me Rezn wasn’t top 30 material? Or Inter Arma, or 10,000 Years (who I still need to review), or Kandodo or Cortez, or Bongripper, Blue Heron, Merlin, Slower? Mount Hush, Vlimmer, Destroyer of Light — I could do this all day. That Carpet record. That MR.BISON record. Valley of the Sun. I see these names and want to punch myself. Then I see the names in the top 30 and I go, “Well…” and kind of have to hold off. I guess that means it turned out to be a pretty fantastic year.
I know for a fact I didn’t hear everything that came out, and I’m willing to bet that any number of people who see this will have their own opinions on the best albums of 2024 from top to bottom. I celebrate this difference and look forward to being exposed to new sounds because of it. Let comments fly, please. Once again, my only ask is that you keep it kind as relates to my own list(s) and any other picks someone might offer. If I’ve got facts wrong, something was a Dec. 2023 release instead of Jan. 2024, whatever, by all means, let me know. But we’re all friends here and being a jerk about it solves nothing.
And yes, I’ll admit to projecting some self-criticism in the Elephant Tree/Lowrider selection for album of the year. All I can tell you is I stand by that pick. It’s that because when I was putting together the list, it couldn’t have been anywhere else. I don’t love breaking my own arbitrary rules nearly as much as I love imposing those arbitrary rules in the first place, but sometimes apparently one is forced from one’s comfort zone to their own general betterment. Who knew?
Of course we’re not done yet.
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Debut Album of the Year 2024
Guhts, Regeneration
Other notable debuts (alphabetical):
Azutmaga, Offering
Buzzard, Doom Folk
Castle Rat, Into the Realm
Cleen, Excursion
Coltaine, Forgotten Ways
Full Earth, Cloud Sculptors
Goat Generator, Goat Generator
Goat Major, Ritual
Grave Speaker, Grave Speaker
Guenna, Peak of Jin’Arrah
Hashtronaut, No Return
Heath, Isaak’s Marble
Hijss, Stuck on Common Ground
Kalgon, Kalgon
Kant, Paranoia Pilgrimage
Kitsa, Dead by Dawn
Leather Lung, Graveside Grin
Legions of Doom, The Skull 3
Magic Fig, Magic Fig
Magick Potion, Magick Potion
Morpholith, Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics
Myriad’s Veil, Pendant
Neon Nightmare, Faded Dream
Plant, Cosmic Phytophthora
Rabid Children, Does the Heartbeat
Saltpig, Saltpig
Semuta, Glacial Erratic
SoftSun, Daylight in the Dark
Spacedrifter, When the Colors Fade
Sun Moon Holy Cult, Sun Moon Holy Cult
Ten Ton Slug, Colossal Oppressor
Tet, Tet
Tigers on Opium, Psychodrama
Tommy and the Teleboys, Gods Used in Great Condition
Troy the Band, Cataclysm
Weather Systems, Ocean Without a Shore
Esben Willems, Glowing Darkness
Young Acid, Murder at Maple Mountain
Notes:
First about Guhts: From the Andy Patterson recording and parts of the songs themselves, Guhts weren’t hiding influence from the likes of SubRosa or Julie Christmas, Made Out of Babies, etc., but what Regeneration did so well — and what I was trying to convey above — was take those recognizable elements and redirect them toward an expressive individuality. That album could be punishingly heavy or sweet and soothing and the fact that you never quite knew which was coming next was a major asset working in the band’s favor. There are a lot of killer debuts on this list, and plenty I’m sure that I’ve left off because, well, I’m inept, but Regeneration was so sure of what it was about and so crisp in making that real through sound that it’s still stunning.
A lot to celebrate on this list. Full Earth at the outset of a hopefully long-term progression. Tigers on Opium with attitude and craft. Castle Rat giving stage drama studio life. Weather Systems picking up where Anathema left off. Promising starts for Pontiac, Hashtronaut, Neon Nightmare, Cleen, Coltaine, Troy the Band, Buzzard, Magic Fig, Legions of Doom, and Heath, among others. If you’re worried about the state of underground heavy music, you don’t need to be. Granted the future of anything is unknowable even before you apply “uncertain times” caveats and all the rest, but bands are stepping up to carry the torch of established sounds and pushing themselves to realize new ideas — whether that’s Guhts and Magic Fig or Tigers on Opium, or Legions of Doom, Ten Ton Slug, Weather Systems and Monolord’s Esben Willems, new players or ones who’ve been around for decades.
If you want a top ten — and who doesn’t? — in addition to Guhts, make your way through Full Earth, Sun Moon Holy Cult, Morpholith, Guenna, Coltaine, Troy the Band, Young Acid, Emu, Buzzard and Kant to start, and you can dig deeper from there. That’s actually 11, but I don’t care. More new music won’t hurt you.
We press on.
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Short Release of the Year 2024
Moura, Fume Santo de Loureiro
Other notable EPs, Splits, Demos, Singles, etc.
Aktopasa, Ultrawest
Alreckque, 6PM
Bog Wizard, Journey Through the Dying Lands
Conan, DIY Series Issue 1
Cortége, Under the Endless Sky
Cult of Dom Keller, Extinction EP
Michael Rudolph Cummings, Money EP
Deer Lord, Dark Matter Pt. 2
Eagle Twin & The Otolith, Legends of the Desert Vol. 4
Fuzznaut, Wind Doula
Fuzzter, Pandemonium EP
Geezer & Isaak, Interstellar Cosmic Blues and the Riffalicious Stoner Dudes
Harvestman, Triptych EP(s)
Hermano, When the Moon Was High
Hollow Leg, Dust & Echoes
Holy Fingers, Endless Light Infinite Presence
King Buffalo, Balrog
Lurcher, Breathe EP
Okkoto, All is Light
Ord Cannon, Foreshots EP
Orme, No Serpents No Saviours
Pelican, Adrift/Tending the Embers
Pontiac, Hard Knox EP
Rope Trick, Red Tide EP
Sacred Buzz, Radio Radiation
Smoke & Doomsday Profit, Split
Spiral Guru, Silenced Voices EP
Toad Venom, Jag har inga problen osv...
Trigona & IO Audio Recordings, Split
Various Artists, International Space Station Vol. 2
Notes:
This category includes so much and can range so vastly between an EP that’s about 30 seconds short of being a full album to a standalone single released just for the hell of it to a band’s first rehearsal room demo. “Short releases” encompasses a lot, and as noted above, I’ve already broken my rules about where splits go. What about The Otolith and Eagle Twin? Geezer and Isaak? Smoke and Doomsday Profit? Trigona and IO Audio Recordings? The International Space Station four-wayer? If I’m crossing lines, don’t these also need to be considered as full-lengths?
You know what really sucks about it? This is an argument I’m going to have with myself for probably the next year. An existential crisis playing out in the back of my mind. More important? The Moura EP. The soundtracky textures the Spanish folk-informed progressive psychedelic rockers brought to the follow-up for their second album were both otherworldly and ground-born, and the material put emphasis on how much care and craft goes into their work while retaining the organic core against the threat of pretense. It was my most listened to short release of 2024, followed by Pelican, Holy Fingers, Pontiac, Toad Venom, Hollow Leg (x2), and Sacred Buzz. A new King Buffalo single was a late-year boon, that Hermano was worth it for the previously-unreleased studio track alone, and strong showings from Michael Rudolph Cummings, Deer Lord, Conan and Cortége, along with the aforementioned splits, assured that through the entire year, attention spans would receive consistent challenge in the movement from one thing to the next.
By way of a familiar confession, my list of short releases is nowhere near complete. It never is, and it never really could be. I’m sure there will be some I left out that I’ll add in for honorable mentions, etc., but I stand by the Moura pick for best short outing. They brought a soul to it that put the lie to the notion of EPs as between-album gap-fillers, and in a year that didn’t lack substance among its brevity-focused options, Fume Santo de Loureiro stood out in character, aesthetic and songwriting. Nobody else is making music quite like Moura.
If you have more to add here, by all means, please and thank you. Comments are below.
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Live Albums
Live Album of the Year 2024
Temple Fang, Live at Krach Am Bach
Castle, One Knight Stands: Live in NY
Danava, Live
Elder, Live at Maida Vale
Snail, Thou Art There
Stöner, Hittin’ the Bitchin’ Switch
Sula Bassana & Skyjoggers, Split
The Whims of the Great Magnet, Live at Bankastudios Maastricht 22-12-2023
Notes:
Fewer releases listed here than last year, but some killer ones for that. I put Temple Fang out there as live album of the year, and since we’re late in the post I’ll tell you honestly that it probably could be any of these on a given day. Danava’s live record crossed decades in badassery, the Sula/Skyjoggers split captured the vibe of a club night in Germany, the Whims of the Great Magnet’s live release made an excellent predecessor to their out-this-month studio album, Snail recorded theirs at a show I put on, Stöner capture the end of their two-album cycle with an awesome set, and Elder are Elder. The Maida Vale recording is short, and their songs are long, or you probably would’ve heard a lot more about that this year. If/when they do a proper live album, it will be a no-brainer.
But the Temple Fang has it all in molten progressivism, heavy tones, immersive psychedelia and outright soul, and of the bands I’ve managed to list here — if you want to add to the list, please do — there’s nobody who so much defines what they do by its live incarnation. Temple Fang’s music changes every night. They follow where it leads in a different way, and the ritualization of their performance comes through in Live at Krach Am Bach resoundingly. I’m not saying a bad word about their studio work to this point, but their heart manifests in a different way and at a different level onstage. They’re a great band and this shows a big part of why.
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Looking Ahead to 2025
Names, right? This one’s all about the names? Get to the names, jack? Okay, calm down.
With eternal appreciation to the folks of fine, upstanding moral character in the ‘The Obelisk Collective’ group on Facebook for the assistance, here’s a smattering of what one might look forward to in 2025:
Aawks, After Nations, All Them Witches, Amber Asylum, Author & Punisher, Bandshee, Black Spirit Crown, Bog Wizard, Bone Church, Borracho, Bronco, Buzzard, Dee Calhoun, Causa Sui, The Cimmerian, Clutch, Conan, Corrosion of Conformity, Daevar, Dead Meadow, Dead Shrine, Demons My Friends, Dream Unending, DUNDDW, Dunes, Flummox, Fuzz Sagrado, FVZZ POPVLI, Gaytheist, Gin Lady, Gnarled, Gnod & White Hills, Gods and Punks, Godzillionaire, Haze Mage, Kaiser, Kal-El, King Buffalo, Lamassu, Lo-Pan, Madmess, Mantar, Masters of Reality, Messa, Seán Mulrooney, Mouth., New Dawn Fades, Nightstalker, Øresund Space Collective, Pentagram, Pesta, Pothamus, Dax Riggs, Seedy Jeezus, Slomatics, Slow Wake, Stoned Jesus, Stone Machine Electric, Temple Fang, 3rd Ear Experience, Triptykon, Trouble, Turtle Skull, Warlung, Weedpecker, Yawning Balch, Year of the Cobra, YOB… and because it still hasn’t happened and someone invariably calls me out if they’re not listed: Om.
If you have names to add, “smash that comment button,” in the parlance of our times. Only don’t really smash it because you might hurt your hand or break your phone with your awesome strength.
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THANK YOU
It was among my primary goals for this post that it should be shorter than last year’s, and it looks like I’ll achieve that with room to spare, so I’m glad. Sometimes I get carried away, I think I probably don’t need to tell you.
Before I let go of 2024 — actually I still want to review that The Whims of the Great Magnet studio release and I’ve got a Darsombra video premiere set before the end of the year, news to catch up on from like the last two weeks and a whole lot more to cover — I’d like to take a moment to thank you one more time for reading and for being part of this project this year and each year it’s been ongoing. Your support is absolutely what keeps this site going and it means more to me than I can ever hope to comprehend.
Thank you to The Patient Mrs., who in the course of a given week let alone year puts up with more of my bullshit than any human being should ever have to. “Yes, love, the world’s ending and we have no money and the house is falling down around us and the dog needs to pee, but I just need two or three hours to go sit and write about riffs — is that cool?” Or better, when I’m pissy about it. The “my wife is a saint” routine is pretty played out as far as dudely excuses for being selfish, lazy and/or dumb go, but well, I am all of those things on the extreme regular and she hasn’t booted my ass to the curb yet. I find this to be a reason to celebrate and a thing to appreciate. I am loved and cared for in ways I could never hope to earn.
Thank you to my family for their support, year in and year out. They’ve all got Obelisk shirts and they all wear them, and while I’m not sure they understand the true depths of egoistic depravity involved in this project, they’ve been on board with it since the start, and this includes my wife’s side of the family as well. I am incredibly lucky to have the life I have.
I’m going to keep listening to music, keep writing about it as much as I can. I’m not quite as generally panicked about it as I used to be — older, busier in different ways, over the FOMO, maybe a little more discerning in terms of taste? — and I’m significantly less likely to break my brain answering email, but I’m doing my best.
The Obelisk presses on into what will be a busy 2025. I’ve got trips slated to Planet Desert Rock Weekend in Las Vegas this January, Desertfest Oslo in May, Freak Valley in Germany in June, Bear Stone in Croatia in July, and Desertfest New York in September, with more hopefully to come. I look forward to these adventures and to doing the writing that will happen as part of them, and one more time, I thank you for your time and attention in reading, in the past, now, and in the future. I’m taking tomorrow off. All the way off. Back on Monday for more.
Posted in Reviews on October 21st, 2024 by JJ Koczan
This is the last day of the Fall 2024 Quarterly Review. Day 11 of 10, as it were. Bonus-extra, as we say at home. 10 more releases of various kinds to underscore the point of the infinite creative sphere. Before we dive in, I want to make a note about the header above. It’s the same one I used a couple times during the pandemic, with the four horseman of the apocalypse riding, and I put it in place of the AI art I’d been using because that seems to be a trigger for so many people.
In my head, I did that to avoid the conversation, to avoid dealing with someone who might be like, “Ugh, AI art” and then a conversation that deteriorates in the way of people talking at each other on the internet. This saves me the trouble. I’ll note the irony that swiping an old etching out of the public domain and slapping an Obelisk logo on it is arguably less creative than feeding a prompt into a generative whathaveyou, but at least this way I don’t have to hear the underground’s moral panic that AI is coming for stoner rock.
Quarterly Review #101-110:
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Chat Pile, Cool World
Chat Pile are two-for-two on living up to the hype in my mind as Cool World follows the band’s 2022 debut, God’s Country (review here), with a darker, more metal take on that record’s trauma-poetic and nihilistic noise rock. Some of the bassy jabs in songs like “Camcorder” and “Frownland” remind of Korn circa their self-titled, but I’m not sure Chat Pile were born when that record came out, and that harder, fuller-sounding impact comes in a context with “Tape” following “Camcorder” in bringing together Meshuggah and post-punk, so take it as you will. Based in Oklahoma City, Chat Pile are officially A Big Deal With Dudes™, but in a style that’s not exactly known for reinvention — i.e. noise rock — they are legitimately a breath of air that would be ‘fresh’ if it weren’t so desolate and remains innovative regardless. There’s gonna be a lot of mediocre riffs and shitty poetry written in an attempt to capture a fraction of what this record does.
I guess the anonymous project Neon Nightamre — who sound and aesthetic-wise are straight-up October Rust-and-later Type O Negative; the reason the album caught my eye was the framing of the letters around the corners — have gotten some harsh response to their debut, Faded Dream. Critic-type dudes pearl-clutching a band’s open unoriginality. Because to be sure, beyond dedicating the album to Peter Steele — and maybe they did, I haven’t seen the full artwork — Neon Nightmare could hardly do more in naked homage to the semi-goth Brooklyn legends and their distinctive Beatles/Sabbath worship. But I mean, that’s the point. It’s not like this band is saying they’re the first ones doing any of this, and in a world where AI could scrape every Type O record and pump out some half-assed interpretation in five minutes, isn’t something that attempts to demonstrate actual human love for the source material as it builds on it worth at least acknowledging as creative? I like Type O Negative a lot. The existence of Neon Nightmare doesn’t lessen that at all, and there are individual flashes of style in “Lost Silver” — the keyboard line feels like an easter egg from “Anesthesia”; I wondered if the title was in honor of Josh Silver — and the guitar work of “She’s Drowning” that make me even more curious to see where this goes.
Brooklyn-based instrumentalist five-piece Astrometer present their full-length debut after releasing their first demo, Incubation (review here), in 2022. The double-guitar pairing of Carmine Laietta V and Drew Mack and the drumming of Jeff Stieber at times will put you in mind of their collective past playing together in Hull, but the keys of Jon Ehlers (Bangladeafy) and the basswork of Sam Brodsky (Meek is Murder) assure that the newer collective have a persona and direction of their own, so that while the soaring solo in “Power Vulture” or the crashes of “Blood Wedding” might ring familiar, the context has shifted, so that those crashes come accompanied by sax and there’s room for a song like “Conglobulations” with its quirk, rush and crunching bounce to feel cosmic with the keyboard, and that blend of crush and reach extends into the march of closer “Do I Know How to Party…” which feels like a preface for things to come in its progressive punch.
An annual check-in from universe-and-chill molten and mellow heavy psych explorers Acid Rooster. It’s only been a year since the band unfurled Flowers and Dead Souls, but Hall of Mirrors offers another chance to be hypnotized by the band’s consuming fluidity, the 39-minute four-songer coming across as focused on listener immersion in no small part as a result of Acid Rooster‘s own. That is, it’s not like you’re swimming around the bassline and residual synth and guitar effects noise in the middle of the 14-minute “Chandelier Arp” and the band are standing calm and dry back on the beach. No way. They’re right in it. I don’t know if they were closed-eyes entranced while the recording was taking place, but if you want a definition of ‘dug in,’ Hall of Mirrors has four, and Acid Rooster‘s capacity for conveying purpose as they plunge into a jam-born piece like “Confidence of Ignorance” sets them apart from much of Europe’s psychedelic underground in establishing a meditative atmosphere. They are unafraid of the serene, and not boring. This is an achievement.
Giants Dawrfs and Black Holes, Echo on Death of Narcissus
Five years on from their start, Germany’s Giants Dwarfs and Black Holes present Echo on Death of Narcissus as their third full-length and the follow-up to 2023’s In a Sandbox Full of Suns (review here) as the four-piece bring in new guitarist Caio Puttini Chaves alongside vocalist Christiane Thomaßen, guitarist Tomasz Riedel (also bass and keys) and drummer Carsten Freckmann for a five-track collection that has another album’s worth of knows-what-it’s-about behind it. Opener “Again,” long enough at eight minutes to be a bookend with the finale “Take Me Down” (13:23) but not so long as to undercut that expanse, leads into three competent showings of classic progressive/psychedelic rock, casual in the flow between “Soul Trip” and the foreboding strums of centerpiece “Flowers of Evil” ahead of the also-languid “December Bloom.” And when they get there, “Take Me Down” has a jammy breadth all its own that shimmers in the back half soloing, which kind of devolves at the end, but resounds all the more as organic for that.
Oryx‘s Primordial Sky threads a stylistic needle across its four songs. Delivered through Translation Loss, the 41-minute follow-up to the Denver trio’s 2021 offering, Lamenting a Dead World (discussed here), is no less extreme than one would expect, but to listen to 13-minute opener/longest track (immediate points), 13-minute capper “Look Upon the Earth,” or either of the seven-minute cuts between, it’s plain to both hear and see that there’s more to Oryx atmospherically than onslaught, however low guitarist Thomas Davis (also synth) pushes his growls amid the lurching grooves of bassist Joshua Kauffman and drummer Abigail Davis. This is something that five records and more than a decade on from their start their listeners know well, but as they refine their processes, even the outright sharp-toothed consumption of “Ephemeral” has some element of outreach.
Heads up on this record for those who dig the mellower end of heavy psych, plus intricacy of arrangement, which is a number in which I very much count myself. By that I mean don’t be surprised when Sunface‘s Cloud Castles shows up on my year-end list. It’s less outwardly traditionalist than some of the heavy rock coming out of Norway at this point in history, but showcasing a richer underground only makes Cloud Castles more vital in my mind, and as even a shorter song like “Thunder Era” includes an open-enough sensibility to let a shoegazier sway enter the proceedings in “Violet Ponds” without seeming incongruous for the post-All Them Witches bluesy sway that underlies it. Innovative for the percussion in “Tall Trees” alone, Sunface are weighted in tone but able to move in a way that feels like their own, and to convey that movement without upsetting the full-album flow across the 10 songs and 44 minutes with radical changes in meter, while at the same time not dwelling too long in any single stretch or atmosphere.
While consistent with their two prior LPs in the general modus of unmitigated aural heft and oppressive, extreme sludge, Fórn declare themselves on broader aesthetic ground in incorporating electronic elements courtesy of guitarist Joey Gonzalez and Andrew Nault, as well as newcomer synthesist Lane Shi Otayonii, whose clean vocals also provide a sense of space to 11-minute post-intro plunge “Soul Shadow.” If it’s the difference between all-crush and mostly-crush, that’s not nothing, and “Anamnesis” can be that much noisier for the band’s exploring a more encompassing sound. Live drums are handled in a guest capacity by Ilsa‘s Josh Brettell, and that band’s Orion Peter also sits in alongside Fórn‘s Chris Pinto and Otayonii, and with Danny Boyd on guitar and Brian Barbaruolo on bass, the sound is duly massive, tectonic and three-dimensional; the work of a band following a linear progression toward new ideas and balancing that against the devastation laid forth in their songs. Repercussions of the Self does not want for challenge directed toward the listener, but the crux is catharsis more than navelgazing, and the intensity here is no less crucial to Fórn‘s post-metallic scene-setting than it has been to this point in their tenure. Good band actively making themselves better.
Big-riffed heavy fuzz rock from Northern Ireland as the Belfast-based self-releasing-for-now four-piece of vocalist/synthesist Fionnuala McGlinchy, guitarist Tom Finney, bassist Michael McFarlane and drummer Ciaran O’Kane touch on vibes reminiscent of some of Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard‘s synth-fused sci-fi doom roil while keeping the material more earthbound in terms of tone and structure, so that the seven-minute “The Abstract” isn’t quite all-in on living up to the title, plenty liquefied, but still aware of itself and where it’s going. This mitigated terrestrialism — think Middle of Nowhere-era Acid King — is the source of a balance to which Negative Space, the band’s second album, is able to reshape as required by a given song — “Burning Gaze” has its far-out elements, they’re there for a reason — and thereby portray a range of moods rather than dwelling in the same emotional or atmospheric space for the duration. Bookending intro “As Above” and the closer “So Below” further the impression of the album as a single work/journey to undertake, and indeed that seems to be how the character of “The Forest,” “Delirium” and the rest of the material flourishes.
Romanian instrumentalist heavy psych purveyors Methadone Skies sent word of the follow-up to 2021’s Retrofuture Caveman (review here) last month and said that the six-songer Spectres at Dawn was the heaviest work they’d done in their now-six-album tenure. Well they’re right. Taking cues from Russian Circles and various others in the post-heavy sphere, guitarists Alexandru Wehry and Casian Stanciu, bassist Mihai Guta and drummer Flavius Retea (also keyboards, of increasing prominence in the sound), are still able to dive into a passage and carry across a feeling of openness and expanse, but on “Mano Cornetto” here that becomes just part of a surprisingly stately rush of space metal, and 10-minute closer “Use the Excessive Force” seems to be laying out its intention right there in the title. Whether the ensuing blastbeats are, in fact, excessive, will be up to the individual listener, but either way, Methadone Skies have done their diligence in letting listeners know where they’re headed, and Spectres at Dawn embodies that forwardness of ethic on multiple levels.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 20th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Well would you look at the time. Europe’s busy Fall festival season hasn’t yet gotten underway — that’ll be later in September through October into November — but Roadburn has always kept its own calendar anyhow. And as the venerated Tilburg, Netherlands, festival unveils the first three acts for its 2025 lineup as a Kylesa reunion, Chat Pile and Altın Gün, their multi-pronged focus of underground futurism that honors past and present would seem to be embodied. Take your pick as to which is which there, I guess.
I’m stoked on the prospect of Kylesa coming back, of course. Laura Pleasants has had her post-punk project The Discussion, and that aspect was there in Kylesa as well, but in a pastiche that included sludge and noise too at its most vicious and went on to become more melodic and progressive by the time of their final-to-date LP, Exhausting Fire (discussed here), which — how about that — turns 10 next year. How many drummers do you think they’ll have?
Joining them are Chat Pile, whose new album Cool World is out Oct. 11 on The Flenser, and Altın Gün, who bring Turkish roots and Dutch progressive indie together and will play a set focused on their more psychedelic-leaning early material. Something special, something ultra cool and something I haven’t heard before. Behold Roadburn, roadburning.
More to come (duh). Here’s what I’ve got for today:
Chat Pile, Kylesa and Altın Gün announced for Roadburn 2025
Roadburn has announced the first three names for the 2025 edition of the festival, which will take place between April 17-20 next year. Noise rock champs Chat Pile will return to Tilburg, and be joined by reunited sludge heroes Kylesa. Altın Gün will bring their psychedelic folk to Roadburn for the first time. Weekend tickets for the festival are on sale now.
Roadburn’s artistic director, Walter Hoeijmakers, comments:
“With this announcement comes a first glimpse of what the Roadburn universe will be like in 2025. For this edition, we will look to the horizon of the underground and beyond, exploring the present and discovering the future along the way, while always honouring the past as well.
“The idea of redefining heaviness remains at the heart of Roadburn, and we will keep striving to galvanise our entire community, from artists to attendees, staff and everyone in between.”
Chat Pile have today announced a new single taken from their upcoming sophomore album, Cool World. Amidst continuously growing enthusiasm for the Oklahoma four piece, their return to Roadburn will mark their first show in Europe following the release of Cool World.
Nine years after announcing an indefinite hiatus, Georgia’s Kylesa will return to the live arena, and Roadburn will host their return to European soil. Led by Laura Pleasants and Phillip Cope, the influential sludge band will no doubt be welcomed with open arms by the Roadburn community.
Altın Gün are set to make their Roadburn debut with a tailor-made set that focuses on the darkest, most psychedelic seam of their work. The Grammy-nominated group have dazzled audiences around the world and now they’ll bring their contemporary Turkish folk to Roadburn.
More bands for the 2025 edition of Roadburn are due to be announced in the coming weeks.
Weekend tickets are on sale now, with further ticketing and accommodation options to follow. For all information including tickets, please visitwww.roadburn.com
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 16th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Heads up on this, because the hype on new Chat Pile is going to be at least as brutal and punishing as any of the sounds the Oklahoma City band actually conjure on the record. Capital-‘i’ Important, we’re talking. And as intolerable as conversation around that kind of thing is, Chat Pile‘s caustic post-hardcore whathaveyou remains, well, caustic. New video “I Am Dog Now” puts a bow on it, complete with VHS grain and American religious iconography.
Chat Pile‘s 2022 album, God’s Country (review here), was a well-earned kick in the nuts of the underground heavy zeitgeist. Asking the same of Cool World, the inevitable follow-up to what was broadly hailed as a landmark, seems unfair, but well, the world sucks and I don’t think it’s Chat Pile‘s first encounter with the phenomenon. They’ll be on tour. Preorders are up. The machine lurches forward. Content for the mill.
Fuck everything. Here’s text:
Chat Pile Announce New Album, Cool World, Incoming October 11 on The Flenser, watch the music video for first single “I Am Dog Now”
See Chat Pile on tour this November with support from Agriculture, Mamaleek in select markets
Oklahoma City noise rock quartet Chat Pile have returned with their follow up to 2022’s breakout album God’s Country with Cool World, the new 10-song LP set for release on October 11th via The Flenser [pre-order].
Besides being the name of a largely forgotten (and panned) 90s film, Cool World makes for an apt title of Chat Pile’s sophomore full-length record. In the context of a Chat Pile record, the words are steeped in a grim double entendre that not only evokes imagery of a dying planet but a progression from the band’s previous work, moving the scope of its depiction of modern malaise from just “God’s Country” to the entirety of humankind. “’Cool World’ covers similar themes to our last album, except now exploded from a micro to macro scale, with thoughts specifically about disasters abroad, at home, and how they affect one another,” says vocalist Raygun Busch. “If I had to describe the album in one sentence,” Busch continues, “It’s hard not to borrow from Voltaire, so I won’t resist – ‘Cool World’ is about the price at which we eat sugar in America.”
Today, album opener “I Am Dog Now” arrives with a music video directed by Will Mecca. Stin (bass, Chat Pile) says, “Will’s vision captures the essence of ‘I Am Dog Now’ by channeling his specific style of low-fi, exploitation cinema aesthetic into a dusty, religious bad-trip exclusive to the southern plains of America. Eagle eyed viewers may actually notice shots of the literal chat piles from which we take our name.”
Stream / playlist / share Cool World first single + album opener “I Am Dog Now”: https://orcd.co/jj690dz
Like the towering mounds of toxic waste, the music of Chat Pile is a suffocating, grotesque embodiment of the existential anguish that has defined the 21st Century. It figures that a band with this abrasive, unrelenting, and outlandish of a sound has stuck as strong of a chord as it has. Dread has replaced the American dream, and Chat Pile’s music is a poignant reminder of that shift – a portrait of an American rock band molded by a society defined by its cold and cruel power systems.
Though very much on-brand with Chat Pile’s signature flavor of cacophonous, sludgy noise rock, the band’s shift to a global thematic focus on Cool World not only compliments the broader experimentations it employs with their songwriting but also how they dissect the album’s core theme of violence.
Melded into the band’s twisted foundational sound are traces of other eclectic genre stylings, with examples of gazy, goth-tinged dirges to abrasive yet anthemic alt/indie-esque hooks and off-kilter metal grooves only scratching the surface of what can be heard in the album’s ten tracks. “While we wanted our follow-up to ‘God’s Country’ to still capture the immediate, uncompromising essence of Chat Pile, we also knew that with ‘Cool World,’ we’d want to stretch the definition of our ‘sound’ to reflect our tastes beyond just noise rock territory,” reflects bassist Stin. “Now that we had some form of creative comfort zones in place after hitting that milestone of putting out a full-length record, album #2 felt like the perfect opportunity to challenge those limits.” Besides stylistically stretching the boundaries of the Chat Pile sound, Cool World is also the band’s first record to have someone else handle mixing duties, with Ben Greenberg of Uniform (Algiers, Drab Majesty, Metz) capturing and further amplifying the quartet’s unmistakably outsider and folk-art edge.
The proverbial thread tying all of the experimentation on Cool World together is the depth to which Chat Pile dissects the album’s theme of violence, and the record itself is apocalyptically bleak. Sure, Chat Pile’s debut album was plenty disturbing with its B-movie-inspired interpretation of a “real American horror story”; what Chat Pile depicts on Cool World is unsettling not just from its visceral noise rock onslaught, but from depicting how all sorts of atrocities are pretty much standard parts of modern existence.
Cool World will be released via The Flenser on October 11, 2024. See Chat Pile on the road this November with label mates Agriculture and Mamaleek in select markets – tickets will be available at chatpile.net/shows and general on-sale is Friday, July 19th at 10am local time. More news soon.
Chat Pile, on tour: November 1 Oklahoma City, OK – 89th Street % November 2 Columbia, MO – The Blue Note % November 3 Omaha, NE – The Waiting Room % November 5 Chicago, IL – Thalia Hall % November 6 Minneapolis, MN – Fine Line % November 8 Lakewood, OH – Mahall’s % November 9 Detroit, MI – The Majestic Theatre % November 11 Toronto, ON – The Concert Hall % November 12 Montreal, QC – Théâtre Fairmount % November 14 Burlington, VT – Showcase Lounge @ Higher Ground ^ November 15 Philadelphia, PA – First Unitarian Church ^ November 16 New York, NY – (Le) Poisson Rouge ^ November 17 Boston, MA – The Sinclair ^ November 19 Baltimore, MD – Metro Gallery * November 20 Richmond, VA – The Broadberry * November 21 Greensboro, NC – Hangar 1819 * November 22 Nashville, TN – The End * % with Agriculture, Porcelain ^ with Mamaleek, Traindodge * with Mamaleek, thirdface
Cool World, track listing: 1. I Am Dog Now 2. Shame 3. Frownland 4. Funny Man 5. Camcorder 6. Tape 7. The New World 8. Masc 9. Milk of Human Kindness 10. No Way Out
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 29th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
If you’re reading this post — first, thanks — and second, it’s probably because at some point last year, you caught onto Chat Pile‘s God’s Country (review here) and its everything-is-fucked-no-one-knows-what-to-do-except-people-who-don’t-care-oh-look-more-cancer-and-mass-shootings-what-could-be-more-American-than-that sensibility, post-apathy chest-tunneling and hardcore-born willingness to ask “what the fuck?” in however many words. Fair enough. That record — which already has a follow-up in the band’s 2023 split with Nerver (review here) — played out like the shape of you-wish artpunk to come, and its disaffection was widely hailed along with aural ideologies both innovative and primitive. Shit was raw, in other words, and well received.
Chat Pile went to Europe earlier this year to treat Roadburn to an exclusive show, and I have to think they’ll be back on the continent in 2024, though I’ll readily admit I’ve got no insight into their plans. With the momentum of hype around God’s Country, I would imagine they’ve been fielding offers from various sides. You’ll note a couple of these dates on the West Coast are slated to happen supporting heavy prog forerunners Baroness, and as counterintuitive a pairing as that is, it could definitely work, Baroness so refined in their thinky-thinky metal and Chat Pile sounding like they’re trying to beat their own songs with a wrench. Shit, book that tour now.
From social media or wherever:
CHAT PILE – WEST COAST TOUR ANNOUNCEMENT!
Been a long time in the making, but it’s finally here!
Agriculture and Nightosphere will join us for select dates and we also have the honor of opening for Baroness on a couple shows in the midwest.
Tickets go on sale this Friday.
11/2 – Denver, CO – Bluebird Theatre ! 11/3 – Salt Lake City, UT – Urban Lounge ! 11/5 – Seattle, WA – The Crocodile ! 11/6 – Portland, OR – Star Theater ! 11/8 – San Francisco, CA – Great American Music Hall ! 11/9 – Los Angeles, CA – Substance Festival 11/10 – Phoenix, AZ – Rebel Lounge ! 11/12 – Colorado Springs, CO – Vultures 11/14 – Minneapolis, MN – First Avenue ? 11/15 – Chicago, IL – Vic Theater ? 11/17 – Iowa City, IA – Gabe’s Oasis & 11/18 – Columbia, MO – Rose Music Hall &
Didn’t we just do this? Yeah, kind of. It’s been a weird season, but I knew last month when I launched the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review that it needed to be more than two full weeks and given the timing of everything else slated around then and now, this is what worked to make it happen. For what it’s worth, I have QRs scheduled for July and early October, subject to change, of course.
The bottom line either way is it’s another batch of 50 reviews this week and then that’s a wrap for Spring. It’s a constant barrage of music these days anyhow, and I’m forever behind on everything, but I hope at least you can find something here you dig, whether previously familiar or not. We go.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
HIGH LEAF, Vision Quest
An awaited debut from this Philadelphia heavy rock scene outfit, HIGH LEAF‘s Vision Quest makes its home among heavy tropes (also some minute cultural appropriation in the title) with unabashed glee and deceptively sharp songwriting. Certainly opener “Green Rider” is perfectly willing to beat you over the head with its chorus — and rightly so, you have it coming — but the spacious title-track that follows stretches over eight minutes and seamlessly works through drift and heavy psych impulses to get to the post-grunge roll that makes its increasingly aggro presence known past six minutes in, and that’s by no means the final bit of sludge to be had as the later “Hard to Find” leans toward nastiness only to be offset by the funky outset of “Painted Desert,” having pushed deeper from the Kyussery of “Dead Eye” and a swagger in “Subversive” worthy of comparison to Earthride. This lineup of the band has already split (there’s a new one, no worries), and how that reboot will affect HIGH LEAF going forward obviously remains to be seen, but this is a ‘serving notice’-type debut, doubling down on that in closing duo “March to the Grave” and “The Rot,” and the eight songs and 38 minutes commune with groove and riffs like they’ve been speaking the language the whole time. There’s definitely a vision at work. Let’s see where the quest takes them.
Fucking hell I wish this was what the future sounded like. It rocks. It’s interesting. It’s driven to be its own thing despite traceable roots. It’s got edge but it’s not hackneyed. It’s the tomorrow we were promised when industrial rock and metal became a thing in the 1990s and that corporate alt-everything and pop-punk usurped. I knew I wanted to write about it now, because it’s coming out now, but I’ll tell you honestly, I’ve barely scratched the surface of JAAW‘s Svart-issued debut, Supercluster — recorded at Bear Bites Horse in London by Wayne Adams, who’s also in the band alongside Andy Cairns of Therapy?, Mugstar‘s Jason Stoll and Adam Betts (of Squarepusher and others) — and this is the kind of album that’s going to be years in revealing itself. How about this? Sometime in 2028, if this site is still here, I’ll follow-up and let you know what I’ve found digging into the sinister groove of “Rot” or the shout-kraut rumble and noise of “Bring Home the Motherlode, Barry,” “The Dead Drop” going from minimalism to full heavy New Wave wash in five minutes’ time, and so on, but for right now, let it serve as the cannonball to be lobbed at anyone who says there aren’t any acts out there doing new things or pushing different styles forward, because hell’s bells, that’s the only place this goes even as it also seems to go everywhere at the same time, unto closing out with a Björk cover “Army of Me” as imagined by Ministry doing ’90s drum ‘n’ bass. Some things are just bigger than the year of their release, and I look forward to living with this record.
The Bridesmaid, Come on People Now, Smile on Your Brother
From the opening drone-and-toy-chime-forward over industrial black metal of “Leytonstone: Eat Your Landlord” through the sample-fed machine sludge-turned-psych experimentalism that gives way to a shimmering haze of jazz metal in “Cleveland: And the Rain Came Down” and the can’t-fool-me-by-now acoustic strum at the start of “Summerland: A Long, Maintenance-Free Life” that runs a current of cello under its aural collage and low-end lumber early only to bask in news-and-drone departure with percussion later on the way to what post-hardcore could still someday be, the name of the EP is Come on People Now, Smile on Your Brother and The Bridesmaid deliver the proceedings in a manner more suited to Kurt Cobain‘s fuckall rasp of that line rather than the Youngbloods original. So it’s probably the latter. In any case, the UK solo-plus-friends outfit helmed and steered by JJ Saddington are an aural barrage, and while the temptation is to think of the three-song/21-minute offering as a blender on liquefy, the truth is the material is more thought out, more considerately mixed, and more engaging, than that kind of spastic randomness implies. If you can keep up with the changes, the adventure of listening is well worth the ankles sprained in its twists, but you should go into it knowing that the challenge is part of the appeal.
If the hard push and tonal burl of comparatively straight-ahead opener “The Last Witch” aren’t convincing, stick around through “Celestial Bird Spirit” and “Impermanence” on the rest of side A before you resolve one way or the other as regards Milana‘s debut album, Milvus. The Mallorca-based four-piece are for sure in conversation with fest-ready modern European heavy rock, and that’s the thread that weaves throughout the album, but in the 11-minute “Impermanance,” they build on the more temperate rollout of “Celestial Bird Spirit” and find an intriguing blend of atmosphere and dense fuzz, more moody than psychedelic, but smart to hold back its weightiest tonality for the rolling end. Appropriately enough, “Lucid Reality” brings them back to ground at the start of side B, but still has an atmospheric effect in its verse, with vocal layering over open-spaced guitar and an alt-rock pickup as they move toward the chorus, and Howling Wolf gives a class-conscious definition of the blues, in the long intro of “Gray City Lights,” setting a difficult standard for the rest of the song to match, but the organ helps. And all seems well and fine for “Whispering Wind” to wrap up mirroring the rocker “The Last Witch” at the start until the song breaks, the harmony starts, and then the growls and massive fuzz start in the last minute and it turns out they were metal all along. Go figure. There’s growing to do, but there’s more happening on Milvus than one listen will tell you, and that in itself is a good sign.
Swedish upstart four-piece New Mexican Doom Cult offer a distinctly Monolordian weep of lead guitar on “Seven Spirits,” but even that is filtered through the band’s own take, and that’s true of their first full-length, Necropolis more generally, as the Gävle outfit now comprised of guitarist/vocalist/principal songwriter Nils Ahnland, guitarist Johan Klyven Kvastegård, bassist Emil Alstermark and drummer Jonathan Ekvall present seven songs and 48 minutes of dug-in rockers, distortion keyed to its fuzziest degree as Ahnland hints vocally on “Underground” toward a root in darker and more metallic fare ahead of the chugging build that rounds out the eight-minute centerpiece title-track and the make-doom-swing ethic being followed in closer “Worship the Sun.” “Vortex” is a highlight for the melody as much as the double-dose of nodfuzz guitar work, and opener “Architect” sets an atmospheric course but assures that the sense of movement is never really gone, something that’s a benefit even to the righteous Sabbath blowout verse in the penultimate “Archangel.” Much of what they’re doing will be familiar to experienced heads, but not unwelcome for that.
Capable double-guitar heavy rock pervades the 43-minute Gentle Beast by the Swiss five-piece of the same name. Mixed by Jeff Henson of Duel and issued through Sixteentimes Music, the eight-song run is defined by knowing itself as stoner rock, and that remains true as “Super Sapiens” departs into its post-midsection jam, eventually returning to the chorus, which is almost unfortunately hooky. “Greedy Man” is almost purely Kyuss in its constructed pairing of protest and riff, but the “Caterpillar” shows a different side of the band’s character in its smooth volume shifts, winding leads and understated finish, leading into the sharper-edged outset of closer “Toxic Times.” In the forward thrust of “Joint Venture,” the opener “Asteroid Miner” with its gruff presentation, and the speedier swing of “Headcage” reinforcing the vocal reference to Samsara Blues Experiment in the leadoff, Gentle Beast tick all the boxes they need to tick for this debut long-player some four years after the band’s initial 7″ single, setting up multiple avenues of possible and hopeful progression while proving dexterous songwriters in the now. Won’t change your life, but isn’t trying to convince you it will, either.
Denver four-piece Bloodsports — also stylized all-lowercase: bloodsports — give a heavygaze impression with “Sky Mall” at the launch of their self-titled debut EP that the subsequent “Crimp” gleefully pulls the rug right from under with a solo section like All Them Witches grew up listening to The Cure after its Weezery verse, and the proceedings only gets grungier from there with the low-key Nirvana brooding of “Sustain” (also issued in 2022 as a standalone single) and its larger-scale, scorch-topped distorted finish and the shaker-inclusive indie ritual that is “Carnival” until it explodes into a blowout ending like the release of tension everyone always wanted but never actually got from Violent Femmes. Some noisy skronk guitar finishes over the hungover fuzz, which is emblematic of the way the entire release — only 11 minutes long, mind you — derives its character from the negative space, from its smaller moments of nuance, as well as from its fuller-sounding stretches. They’re young and they sound it, but there’s a sonic ideal being chased through the material and Bloodsports may yet carve their aural persona from that chase. As it is, the emotive aspects on display in “Sustain” and the volatility shown in the roll of “Sky Mall” make in plain that this project has places it wants to go and areas to explore, and one hopes Bloodsports continue to bring their ideas together with such fluidity.
Recorded seemingly almost entirely live on audio and video, vibrancy would seem to be the underpinning that draws Night Fishing‘s Live Bait together, if fishing isn’t. The Denver four-piece are a relatively new formation, with guitarists Graham Zander (also Green Druid) and Zach Amster (Abrams), bassist Justin Sanderson (Muscle Beach) and drummer Gordon Koch (Call of the Void) all coming together from their sundry other projects to explore a space between the kosmiche, heavy rock and semi-improv jamming. The turns and fills and crashes that round out the second of three cuts, “No Services,” for example, feel off-the-cuff, but throughout most of “Alone With My Thoughts” and at least in the initial Slift-like shuffle at the start of “Slapback Twister,” there’s a plan at work. At 25 minutes, they’re only about a song shy of making Live Bait a full-length — though another track might mess up the shortest-to-longest and alphabetical ordering Live Bait has now, which are fun — but the instrumentalist exploration is suited to the nascent feel of the outfit, and while I don’t think Night Fishing is anybody’s only band here, if they can build on the sense of purpose they give to the jangly rhythm and airy solo of “Slapback Twister” and the right-on push of “Alone With My Thoughts,” they can make their records as long or as short as they want and they’re still bound to catch ears.
Following last year’s self-titled debut EP, Indianapolis solo-project Wizard Tattoo cuts itself open and bleeds DIY on the seven songs and 40 minutes of the self-recorded, self-released Fables of the Damned, beginning with distinct moments of departure in opener “Wizard Van” and “The Black Mountain Pass,” the latter of which returns to its gutted-out chorus with maestro Bram the Bard (who also did the cover) cutting through the tonescape of his own creation to underscore the structure at work. There are stories to be told in “The Vengeful Thulsa Dan” and the folkish “Any Which Way but Tuned,” which brings together acoustics and chanting like a gamer version of Wovenhand, deep-mixed tom thud peppered throughout while the chimes are more forward, while the seven-minute “The Ghost of Doctor Beast” picks up with the slowest and most doomed of the included rollouts, “God Damn This Wizard Tattoo” ups the tempo with a catchy chorus, a little bit of mania in the hi-hat under the guitar solo, and hints dropped in the bassline of the grunge aspects soon to be highlighted in instrumental closer “Abendrote.” The sense of character is bigger than the production, and that balance is something that will need to be ironed out over time, but the dug-in curio aspects of Fables of the Damned make it engaging, whatever it may or may not lead toward.
I’ll never claim to be anything more than a dilettante when it comes to noise rock, and I’ll tell you outright that Kansas City’s Nerver are new to me as of this Brothers in Christ split with Oklahoma City’s Chat Pile, but both acts are coming from a strong Midwestern tradition of post-industrial (talking economy not genre) disaffection and building on momentum from strong 2022 releases, those being Nerver‘s even-the-CD-sold-out (aha! but not from the label! got it!) sophomore full-length CASH and Chat Pile‘s much-lauded debut, God’s Country (review here), and the scream-topped bombast of the one and volatile emotive antipoetry of the other make fitting companions across the included four songs, as Nerver‘s “Kicks in the Sky” underscores its jabs with deep low rumble as a bed for the harshly delivered verse and “The Nerve” shoves itself faceward in faster and less angular fashion, consuming like Chicago post-metal but pissed off like Midwestern hardcore while Chat Pile build through “King” en route to the panicked slaughter of “Cut,” which is sure enough to trigger fight-or-flight in your brain before its sub-five-minute run is up. Neither arrives at this point without hype behind them, both would seem to have earned it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go put on that Nerver album and play a bit of catchup.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 3rd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Names like David Eugene Edwards and Julie Christmas are bound to draw eyes, along with Deafheaven, but dig into the lineup announcement for Roadburn 2023 and you’ll find even more genre-spanning righteousness from the e’er forward-looking Dutch fest, which recently unveiled its pretty-people-doing-stuff thematic artwork by William Lacalmontie. Burst and Chat Pile stand out to me immediately, and Norna whom I recently saw for the fist time, but LLNN will kill it in their commissioned collaboration, and a special set from Wolves in the Throne Room is an idea that has a proven history at Roadburn of being, well, special.
I didn’t get to go to Roadburn 2022, which if we’re being honest is a lack in my life that I’ve felt throughout the entire year since. I don’t imagine they’re bringing back the daily ‘zine for 2023, having now thrived without it for the first time in however many years it was. But if I can get back over for next April, I’m going to do everything I can to try and make that happen. Assuming I can walk by then, I’ll carry amps from one end of the loading bay to the other, I don’t care. Just please let me be in Tilburg again.
This is the first announcement. More will follow. This is always one of the best and most hopeful times of the year.
From the PR wire:
Roadburn announces first names for 2023, including Deafheaven, Julie Christmas, and David Eugene Edwards
Roadburn has announced the first names for the 2023 line up ahead of tickets going on sale later this month. The festival will take place at the 013 venue, Tilburg, The Netherlands between April 20-23, 2023. Tickets will go on sale at 7pm CET (6pm GMT, 1pm EST, 10am PST) on November 15.
Roadburn Artistic Director, Walter Hoeijmakers comments:
“We are very thrilled to see Roadburn 2023 coming together, especially in a world turned upside down and all the challenges facing the live music industry. Roadburn 2023 is shaping up to be a very exciting edition of the festival even while navigating the underground post-pandemic. This year’s Roadburn won’t see a curator as there are so many obstacles and pitfalls to overcome; it would be hard for a curator to fully realise their artistic and musical dreams. We at Roadburn will make sure the 2023 edition will be as adventurous and explorational as always, and it will be an anchor point as usual. It will be a very current edition, reflecting the world as it is now.”
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Line up announcements: Deafheaven will fly in to Roadburn to celebrate the 10th anniversary of their groundbreaking sophomore album, Sunbather, by performing the album in full alongside a second set where they will play their latest incredible album, Infinite Granite.
Originally scheduled to perform at Roadburn 2020, Julie Christmas will finally perform next April as a European exclusive set. With a diverse back catalogue and the promise of new material on the horizon, this will be a must-see show.
Also drawing from a rich back catalogue, Roadburn will welcome back David Eugene Edwards, who will be performing cuts from his 16 Horsepower, Wovenhand and solo discographies.
Wolves In The Throne Room will enhance their already immersive performances with additional audio and visual components to create a special, exclusive set titled Shadow Moon Kingdom.
Another postponed Roadburn debut will finally come to fruition as Brutus will perform off the back of their stunning new album, Unison Life.
Big Brave warranted a rare back-to-back Roadburn booking and will be performing their upcoming new album nature morte at Roadburn 2023.
The Soft Moon has made such an impact over the years, but their latest album, Exister, takes things to a new level. They will be performing the album in full at Roadburn 2023.
Giles Corey will be making their live debut with a full band at Roadburn; originally scheduled for 2020 this underground phenomenon will bring catharsis and emotion in abundance.
Chat Pile have made an immense impact in a short space of time, and Roadburn has snagged the exclusive European debut of this much-hyped quartet.
Candy will be performing their blistering new album, Heaven is Here in full at Roadburn.
KEN Mode are doing their bit for the thriving noise-rock resurgence of 2022, and they’ll be flying in for a one-off show at Roadburn 2023.
The genre-defying experimentalism found on Show Me the Body’s latest album Trouble the Water will be brought to life in the flesh with their Roadburn debut next April.
Recently reformed and raring to go, Roadburn will host Sweden’s Burst, bringing the sound of early Scandinavian post-metal to Tilburg.
Norna will also represent Sweden with a crushing take on sludgy post-hardcore.
Commissioned Music:
Roadburn has been commissioning artists to create and perform original compositions at the festival since 2018. 2023 will see an array of such commissioned projects – this year with a particular focus on giving a platform to underground artists – the first of which is announced today.
John Cxnnor performing All My Future’s Past. Brothers Ketil and Rasmus Sejersen grew up in Denmark’s hardcore scene and the influence of that is felt in the music they create as part of LLNN, but it also infiltrates their work under the John Cxnnor moniker. For this commissioned project, they will enhance the industrial electronics of the John Cxnnor project with the contributions of fellow musicians from the hardcore scene they were shaped by.
Collaboration with Schouwburg Tilburg: For the first time, Roadburn is collaborating with Schouwburg Tilburg to embrace dance as part of the Roadburn landscape. Dance Of The Seven Veils will be brought to life by director Aïda Gabriëls with musical accompaniment courtesy of Colin H. Van Eeckhout (CHVE, Amenra), Pieter-Jan Van Assche (Innerwoud) and soprano Astrid Stockman. Tickets for this event will be sold as an upgrade to Roadburn tickets, with a discount for Roadburn attendees.
Weekend tickets and accommodation options will go on sale via roadburn.com at 7pm CET (6pm GMT, 1pm EST, 10am PST) on November 15. 4-day tickets will be priced at €244, 3-day tickets at €214, and single day tickets at €79 (all costs inclusive of fees and service charges).
‘Keeping it Creative: How to foster creativity and authenticity in a content demanding world.’ Relevant to my interests, to be sure.
what computers do. It’s a complex question, and I agree that it’s not a thing worth debating when it’s already happening. If you wanted to stop it, you’re at least a decade late. Needless to say, everything on this site, most especially my favorite Quarterly Review banner, was composed in ChatGPT. I’ve never been a real person. There is no me there.
He introduced Dave French (now also of YOB) on drums/synth and cellist Brent Arnold, who’s done string arrangements for Von Till’s solo records since 2020’s No Wilderness Deep Enough (review here), and said they were going to get lost in their version of soul music for the next hour and anyone who wanted to do the same was welcome. Paraphrasing. With a fullness of rumble from the drone beneath him, of the cello and synth both, sitting at a grand piano or standing with a guitar, Von Till opened himself up and bled songs for that hour. Raw, contemplative and thoroughly his own sound, expanded greatly from the days when his arrangements were mostly voice and acoustic, but very much rooted in the same craft and intimacy. And making a show personal with 2,500 or however many people were in the room is a rare gift that Von Till has carved for himself out of whatever kind of rare and ancient wood it was, not cynically, but as an artist committed to their purpose.
late), I was done standing there. The room had filled in significantly — when I left, the line snaked past the far entrance to the Main Stage — and it was uncomfortable. Nothing anyone did, just me being out of place in my body, which at 43 feels a little extra sad, but there you go. They were super-cool, with the dulcimer, electric drums, and bass, and laptop running other noises and such, but I couldn’t take the crowd press. My head started to hurt and I left. It was still their first song.
he electro-folk blend worked to make “Down in the Greenwood Valley” a dance number, and they opened with an synth-ambient take on “O’Death,” but while some (not all) of the material was traditional, the aesthetic was modern while still highlighting the human element through harmonized voice, keys and live drums.
What an honor. I should get a tshirt made. Nice to know even Roadburn can have an oldschool bully or two hanging around. Here’s my review of when he played with Victor Griffin in 2013. Here’s my review of when he was here with Wino as part of The Obsessed in 2012.
generalize in describing Altın Gün’s sound, because I recognize they put their show together specifically for Roadburn, but even if this is only a partial representation of what they do, they obviously knew what they were doing when they picked the songs. Even on the balcony, dancing and clapping. Not everybody, but not nobody either.
maybe they’re the band that now needs somehow. Maybe primal is the thing.
