Posted in Bootleg Theater on February 25th, 2019 by JJ Koczan
German post-metallic trio Codeia are most likely aware the allusion they’re making in the rather lengthy title of their second album. Due out through Hand of Doom Records on April 13, As He Turned Back Towards the Eye of the Storm indeed has its moments that seem in conversation with the patient ambience that genre-godfathers Neurosis brought to their 2004 effort, The Eye of Every Storm, but at five songs and a consuming 73 minutes, the Karlsruhe/Stuttgart-based trio bring together a host of other elements that would seem to be crafted toward bridging that kind of open, atmospheric minimalism with the mathematical crunch of Isis at their most intense, or some of Cult of Luna‘s more lush phrases. These are not unfamiliar aspects of post-metal, but through manipulating the textures at play especially over longform pieces like 20-minute opener “Canon of Echoes” and the 21-minute finale “Mantra-Karma,” the band smoothly execute shifts in volume and intensity in a way that is able to play toward stark contrasts when it so desires but draws itself forward in thoughtful fashion, maintaining conscious presence in the midst of hypnotic suggestion.
All but one of the inclusions on As He Turned Back Towards the Eye of the Storm — which, like the band’s name itself, is also stylized all-lowercase — starts out quiet and progresses toward an inevitable build in volume with a fine sonic detailing that is both emblematic of the style and fluidly executed by Codeia as it was on their 2017 debut, “Don’t be Afraid,” She Whispered and Disappeared (review here), and across both releases there is a clear move toward evocation. Guitarist Markus Liebich, bassist/vocalist Denis Schneider and drummer Timo Langhof aren’t just employing the combination of airy guitar effects and massive roll that provides the early apex of “Emerald Deception” for their own ends. They’re using them to construct a moving entity that is the album as a whole. It’s about putting the listener into a specific mental and emotional place, and even in the five-minute noise-wash centerpiece “Mantra,” they’re able to accomplish what they set out to do, whether it’s through effects, tonal weight, bellowed shouts or a sense of sonic drift.
The outlier, which starts at relative full-bore is “Medallion,” which has been broken into three parts for the purposes of video-making and, presumably, ease of consumption. A blasting intensity gives way gradually to barely-there minimalism, and the three-piece build back up to a nodding, crushing heft that recedes again to set the foundation of a last crescendo leading into the closer with a final resonant wisp of guitar ahead of the arrival at the footsteps of “Mantra-Karma.” Of course, no 73-minute full-length is going to be a minor undertaking — nor is it intended to be, on any level — but As He Turned Back Towards the Eye of the Storm holds sway over its extended runtime with an immersive vibe that calls all to worship alongside it.
“Medallion (Part III)” can be seen premiering below. When all three videos are out (“Part II” is yet forthcoming), they’ll be pieced together for the entirety of the song. Until then, please enjoy the clip below, followed by more info from the PR wire.
As He Turned Back Towards the Eye of the Storm is available to preorder now:
Codeia, “Medallion (Part III)” official video premiere
In comparison to their first record “don’t be afraid”, she whispered and disappeared, the new one as he turned back towards the eye of the storm feels more focused and determined than its predecessor. The band therefore likens their previous album to a prologue: “Our debut has introduced our characters, or influences. Now, the storyline unfolds and allows for a more complex character development.”
Spherical sound patterns, hypnotic repetitions, and progressive structures set the stage for facet-like lyrics. Some things, however, shouldn’t change – the band once more has made it their mission to capture a live-feel on the album, making sure to record all guitar loops live. A vinyl-only bonus track of 22 minutes as well as two contributions by N (Denovali Records, Midira Records) lend additional richness to the production.
Ultimately, the seamless transition between the two records gives an entirely new meaning to both, urging the listener to re-evaluate the known and unknown.
as he turned back towards the eye of the storm (produced by Tobias Stieler/Kokomo) is out on April 13th, 2019 (Record Store Day) via Hand Of Doom Records.
Codeia is: Markus Liebich (Guitar) Denis Schneider (Bass, Vocals) Timo Langhof (Drums)
So, after kvetching and hemming and hawing and all that other stuff that basically means ‘fretting and trying to shuffle a schedule around’ for the last several days, I think I’ve now found a way to add a sixth day to this Quarterly Review. Looking at all the records that still need to be covered even after doing 50, I don’t really see any other way to go. I could try to do more The Obelisk Radio adds to fit things in, but I don’t want to over-tax that new server, so yeah, I’m waiting at the moment to hear back on whether or not I can move a premiere from Monday to Tuesday to make room. Fingers crossed. I’ve already got the albums picked out that would be covered and should know by tomorrow if it’s going to happen.
Plenty to do in the meantime, so let’s get to it.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Novembers Doom, Hamartia
Look. Let’s be honest here. More than 20 years and 10 records in, one knows at least on a superficial level what to expect from Chicago’s Novembers Doom. Since their first album arrived in 1995, they’ve played to one side or the other between the spectrum of death-doom, and their work legitimately broke ground in the style for a US band and in general. After a push over their last couple albums including 2014’s Bled White (review here) into more deathly fare, Hamartia (on The End Records) brings 10 tracks and 58 minutes of the melancholy dramas – special hello to the piano/acoustic-led title-track – and gut-wrenching, crushingly emotive miseries – special hello to “Waves in the Red Cloth” and “Ghost” – that have defined them. One doesn’t expect a radical departure from them at this point and they don’t deliver one even as they turn to another side of their overarching aesthetic, but whether it’s the still-propulsive death gallop of “Apostasy” or the lush nine-minute finale “Borderline,” Novembers Doom reinforce their position as absolute masters of the style and give their longtime fans another collection of vital woes in which to revel.
Not a hair out of place in the execution of Morning, the Sailor Records second long-player from Denver three-piece Abrams (interview here). That has its ups and downs, naturally, but is suited to the band’s take on modern progressive heavy rock à la newer Mastodon and Baroness, and with production from Andy Patterson (of SubRosa) and Dave Otero (Khemmis, Cephalic Carnage, etc.), the crisp feel is both purposeful and well earned. Their 2015 debut, Lust. Love. Loss. (review here), dealt with a similar emotional landscape, but bassist/vocalist Taylor Iversen, guitarist/vocalist Zachary Amster and drummer Geoffrey Cotton are tighter and more aggressive here on songs like opener “Worlds Away” (video posted here), “At the End,” “Rivers,” “Can’t Sleep” and “Burned” (video posted here), and “Mourning,” “In this Mask” and closer “Morning” balance in terms of tempo and overall atmosphere, making Morning more than just a collection of master-blasters and giving it a full album’s flow and depth. Like I said, not a hair out of place. Structure, performance, delivery, theme. Abrams have it all precisely where they want it.
Dubbed an EP but running 29 minutes and boasting eight tracks, The Grand Astoria’s The Fuzz of Destiny is something of a conceptual release, with the St. Petersburg, Russia-based outfit paying homage to the effect itself. Each song uses a different kind of fuzz pedal, and as the ever-nuanced, progressive outfit make their way through the blown-out pastoralism of opener “Sunflower Queen” and into the nod of “Pocket Guru,” the organ-inclusive bursting fury of “Glass Walls” and the slower and more consuming title-track itself, which directly precedes closer “Eight Years Anniversary Riff” – yup, it’s a riff alright – they’re able to evoke a surprising amount of variety in terms of mood. That’s a credit to The Grand Astoria as songwriters perhaps even more than the differences in tone from song to song here – they’ve certainly shown over their tenure a will to embrace a diverse approach – but in giving tribute to fuzz, The Fuzz of Destiny successfully conveys some of the range a single idea can be used to conjure.
Oh, they’re up to it again, those Hosoi Bros. Their 2016 full-length, Abuse Your Allusion III, from its Guns ‘n’ Roses title reference through the Motörhead riffing of “Saint Tightus” through the stoner punk of “Topless Gnome” and the chugging scorch of the penultimate “Bitches are Nigh” offer primo charm and high-order shenanigans amid the most professional-sounding release of their career. Across a quick 10 tracks and 36 minutes, Hosoi Bros. readily place themselves across the metal/punk divide, and while there’s plenty of nonsense to be had from opener “Mortician” onward through “Lights Out” (video premiere here) and the later swagger of “Unholy Hand Grenade,” the band have never sounded more cohesive in their approach than they do on Abuse Your Allusion III, and the clean production only seems to highlight the songwriting at work underneath all the zany happenings across the record’s span, thereby doing them and the band alike a service as they make a convincing argument to their audience: Have fun. Live a little. It won’t hurt that much.
Codeia, “Don’t be Afraid,” She Whispered and Disappeared
There’s actually very little that gets “Lost in Translation” in the thusly-titled 22-minute opener and longest cut (immediate points) of German post-metallers Codeia’s cumbersomely-named Backbite Records debut album, “Don’t be Afraid,” She Whispered and Disappeared. With heavy post-rock textures and an overarching sense of cerebral progressivism to its wash underscored by swells of low-end distortion, the three-piece of guitarist/backing vocalist Markus L., bassist/vocalist Denis S. and drummer Timo L. bring to bear patience out of the peak-era Isis or Cult of Luna sphere, sudden volume shifts, pervasive ambience, flourish of extremity and all. Nine-minute centerpiece “Shaping Stone” has its flash of aggression early before shifting into hypnotic and repetitive groove and subsequent blastbeaten furies, and 16-minute closer “Facing Extinction” caps the three-song/48-minute offering with nodding Russian Circles-style chug topped with growls that mask the layer of melodic drone filling out the mix beneath. They’re on familiar stylistic ground, but the breadth, depth and complexity Codeia bring to their extended structures are immersive all the same.
Ealdor Bealu, Dark Water at the Foot of the Mountain
“Water Cycle,” the 13-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) of Ealdor Bealu’s debut full-length, Dark Water at the Foot of the Mountain, introduces a meditative feel and a breadth of sound that helps to define everything that follows. The ostensible side B leadoff of the self-release, “This too Shall Endure” (11:04), offers no less depth of atmosphere, and the graceful psychedelic expanses of the penultimate “Behind the Veil” continue to add to the overall scope with interplay of tempo variety and acoustic and electric guitar, but even earlier, shorter cuts like the wistful indie rocker “Deep Dark Below” and the linear-building “Behold the Sunrise” have an underlying progressivism that ties them to the longer form material, and likewise the particularly exploratory feeling “Ebb and Flow,” which though it’s the shortest cut at just over five minutes resonates as a standout jam ahead of “Behind the Veil” and subtly proggy seven-minute closer “Time Traveler.” The Boise-based four-piece of guitarist/vocalist/spearhead Carson Russell, guitarist Travis Abbott (also The Western Mystics), bassist/vocalist Rylie Collingwood and drummer/percussionist/saxophonist Alex Wargo bring the 56-minute offering to bear with marked patience and impress in the complexity of their arrangements and the identifiable human core that lies beneath them.
One might consider the title of “Mountain of Filth,” the second cut on Stone Lotus’ debut album, Comastone, a mission statement for the Southwestern Australian trio’s vicious ‘n’ viscous brand of rolling, tonal-molasses sludge. Yeah, the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Dave Baker, bassist Samuel Noire and drummer Reece Fleming bring ambience to the interlude “Aum,” the slower loud/quiet shifts in “Anthropocene” and the subsequent “Umbra” that leads into the creepy launch of the title-track – in fact, quiet starts are something of a theme throughout Comastone; even the thudding toms that begin opener “Swamp Coven” pale in comparison to the volume swell of massive distortion that follows closely behind – but it’s the rhythmic lumber and the harsh vocals from Baker that define their course through the darker recesses of sludged-out misanthropy. No complaints there, especially on a first long-player, but Stone Lotus are right to keep in mind the flourish of atmosphere their material offers, and one hopes that develops parallel to all the crushing weight of their mountainous approach.
Even before it announces its heft, Green Yeti’s Desert Show casts forth its spaciousness. The second offering from the Athens-based trio in as many years dogwhistles heavy riffing intent even unto its David Paul Seymour album cover, but the five track rollout from guitarist/vocalist Michael Andresakis, bassist/producer Danis Avramidis and drummer Giannis Koutroumpis, as it shifts from the opening salvo of “Black Planets (Part 1)” and “Black Planets (Part 2)” into the Spanish-language centerpiece “Rojo” (direct homage perhaps to Los Natas? if so, effectively done) and into the broader-ranging “Bad Sleep (Part 1)” and 15-minute closer “Bad Sleep (Part 2)” builds just as much on its atmosphere as on its newer-school stoner rock groove and fuzz riffing. It is a 41-minute span that, without question, speaks to the heavy rock converted and plays to genre, but even taken next to the band’s 2016 debut, The Yeti has Landed, Desert Show demonstrates clear growth in writing and style, and stands as further proof of the emergence of Greece as a major contributor to the sphere of Europe’s heavy underground. Something special is happening in and outside of Athens. Green Yeti arrive at the perfect time to be a part of it.
Let’s just assume that Seer won’t be asked to play at Dorney Park anytime soon. The Allentown, Pennsylvania, three-piece dig into largesse-minded instrumental riffing someplace between doom and sludge and do so on raw, formative fashion on the two-song Victims EP, which features the tracks “Victims… Aren’t We All?” and “Swollen Pit,” which is a redux from their 2015 debut short release, Vaped Remains. Some touch of Electric Wizard-style wah in Rybo’s guitar stands out in the second half of the opener, and the closer effectively moves from its initial crawl into post-Sleep stonerized idolatry, but the point of Victims isn’t nearly as much about scope as it is about Rybo, bassist Kelsi and drummer Yvonne setting forth on a stomping path of groove and riff worship, rumbling sans pretense loud enough to crack the I-78 corridor and offering the clever equalizer recommendation to put the bass, treble and mids all at six. Think about it for a second. Not too long though.
Doom! Horror! Riffs! Though it starts out with quiet acoustics and unfolds in echoing weirdness, Bretus’ new album, …From the Twilight Zone, more or less shouts these things from the proverbial cathedral rafters throughout its seven tracks. The Catanzaro, Italy, foursome weren’t shy about bringing an air of screamy sludge to their 2015 sophomore outing, The Shadow over Innsmouth (discussed here), but …From the Twilight Zone shifts more toward a Reverend Bizarre trad doom loyalism that suits the Endless Winter release remarkably well. Those acoustics pop up again in expanded-breadth centerpiece/highlight “Danza Macabra” and closer “Lizard Woman,” and thereby provide something of a narrative thread to the offering as a whole, but on the level of doom-for-doomers, there’s very little about the aesthetic that Bretus leave wanting throughout, whether it’s the faster-chug into drifting fluidity of “The Murder” or the nodding stomp of “In the Vault” (demo posted here) and crypto-NWOBHM flourish of “Old Dark House” (video posted here). Not trying to remake doom in their own image, but conjuring an eerie and engaging take in conversation with the masters of the form.
both emblematic of the style and fluidly executed by Codeia as it was on their 2017 debut, “Don’t be Afraid,” She Whispered and Disappeared (review here), and across both releases there is a clear move toward evocation. Guitarist Markus Liebich, bassist/vocalist Denis Schneider and drummer Timo Langhof aren’t just employing the combination of airy guitar effects and massive roll that provides the early apex of “Emerald Deception” for their own ends. They’re using them to construct a moving entity that is the album as a whole. It’s about putting the listener into a specific mental and emotional place, and even in the five-minute noise-wash centerpiece “Mantra,” they’re able to accomplish what they set out to do, whether it’s through effects, tonal weight, bellowed shouts or a sense of sonic drift.
