Twenty years ago this month, Corrosion of Conformity issued this 64-minute beast of a seventh album. It was an unexpected tour de force, released through Sanctuary Records, which had made its name picking up major label and bigger metal refugee acts either whose contracts had ended or whose companies had moved on. C.O.C. had done a run of three full-lengths and countless CD singles (it was the era of ‘let’s make $10 off three songs’; things other than weed used to be worth money sometimes instead of just costing a lot) through Columbia Records and before this 2005 wallop, their prior release was 2000’s America’s Volume Dealer, also on Sanctuary.

Now, among C.O.C. fans, America’s Volume Dealer kind of gets crapped on unfairly for the smoothness of its production and the accessibility of its sound. And to be fair, it’s a long, long, long way from the hardcore punk of 1985’s Animosity and/or the Southern-heavy epic that was 1994’s Deliverance — arguably their two pillars by which to measure — but I’ll go to bat for America’s Volume Dealer on the song level every time. “Double-Wide,” “Over Me,” “Congratulations Song,” “Take What You Want,” etc. These are killer tunes, and so when In the Arms of God was coming out, I was looking forward to it as a fan more than perhaps some others.

Two decades later, apparently I’m still patting myself on the back for it because In the Arms of God kicks unmitigated ass. But by the time they had toured for America’s Volume Dealer, drummer Reed Mullin (R.I.P. 2020) was no longer in the band — Jimmy Bower (Eyehategod) plays drums on 2001’s Live Volume — and they needed to find somebody. Not only this, but guitarist/vocalist Pepper Keenan had reignited the mid-’90s Southern heavy supergroup Down, with Bower and Kirk Windstein from Crowbar and others, which continues to this day, and so would be splitting his time between projects, one of which was very definitely at this point in history making more money than the other. So between a prior album that got early-internet panned and a distracted frontman, expectations weren’t high going into In the Arms of God.

But from “Stone Breaker” and “Paranoid Opioid” through the acoustic “Crown of Thorns” and the seven-minute jam-inclusive finale title-track, In the Arms of God is all-go and the band sound duly charged. Hooks abound through “It Is That Way” and “Dirty Hands Empty Pockets (Already Gone)” — one of the best breakouts in this band’s entire history in its later reaches — carrying its momentum into the Zeppelin-unplugged strum of “Rise River Rise” and the expansive-but-cohesive “Never Turns to More” dividing the first and second halves with an eight-minute runtime not at all shy about it’s we’re-off-a-major-label-now-so-here’s-a-jam ethic. Founding bassist/vocalist Mike Dean would take this further as Keenan went off with down to front an updated version of the oldschool trio incarnation of the band for two LPs and an EP between 2010 and 2014.

As with their Deliverance-lineup 2018 comeback, No Cross No Crown (review here) — still their most recent LP — the structure of the album is essential to the listening process. In the Arms of God essentially resets after “Never Turns to More,” with guitarist Woodroe Weatherman and Dean contributing vocals alongside Keenan in “Infinite War,” which remains unfortunately relevant. But while the first six songs are on-the-beat bangers, there’s an effort to space out in the Soundgardeny “So Much Left Behind” that works well before “The Backslider” regrounds between burl and sleek effects, and “World on Fire” declares itself in a nodding groove and one more hook before “Crown of Thorns” and “In the Arms of God” — the later of which should be taught as an example of how to do Southern metal without sounding like a cartoon character — round out.

It was the very tail end of the CD era, and the rock radio success that C.O.C. found in the ’90s had been capitalismed into oblivion. Keenan, Weatherman and Dean, in the absence of Mullin, turned to drummer Stanton Moore of the New Orleans jam band Galactic to fill the role, and with no disrespect to the memory of Mullin or what he contributed to C.O.C. up to and through No Cross No Crown, the drums on In the Arms of God are just of a different kind of character. On some level, it’s the difference between punk and heavy jazz, but Moore not only made the position his own, he owned it. However, he also had his own successful group he was part of, so couldn’t really be the full-time drummer C.O.C. wanted.

I don’t know if that’s changed or not, but Corrosion of Conformity have been in the studio — John Custer producing, as always; I didn’t mention it before now because it’s a given — throughout the last couple months, piecing together their next full-length. They’ve been doing so without Dean, who announced last Fall he was leaving the band — their new bassist is Bobby Landgraf, known for his work in Honky and for sharing guitar duties with Keenan in Down — for the first time since 1991’s Blind (discussed here), and with Stanton Moore once again stepping into the drummer position, 20 years later.

As to what the Keenan/Weatherman/Landgraf/Moore incarnation of Corrosion of Conformity might conjure in terms of craft, Keenan‘s songwriting is a long-since proven consideration, though as a fan, one worries about not having Dean‘s punk-rooted voice as part of the craft. But the underlying message they gave 20 years ago was that C.O.C. were going to find a way forward, and through Dean‘s version of the band to bringing back the four-piece for No Cross No Crown — the major complaint with which that I heard was that it was too long; eight years and zero records later, I don’t mind the “extra” — and the years of touring they’ve done since, I don’t doubt they’ll still find a way forward. “It is that way because it is,” and such. I have to think if C.O.C. could be undone as a concept, an entity, etc., the band would have been put to rest a long time ago. I think it’s too much in their blood for that.

And I’m glad.

In a spirit of looking forward to new things and new ideas while treasuring what the past has already brought us, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

What did I learn at this year’s Roadburn? That I’m unpleasant. I learned that people don’t really like talking to me, even some of my friends, and that when I walk away, it’s a relief. So I tried to walk away quickly and at least not obligate people to, I don’t know, look at me or have some kind of conversation. I also have basically nothing to say that isn’t “hi I’m terrified of life,” so I’ll 100 percent cop to my own role in making myself unbearable to be around. Anybody want to hear my middle-aged ass complain? No. Indeed not.

It’s a good thing I have a blog. Ha.

It felt good to come home this past Monday. I got a big hug from The Pecan, who very quickly remembered she doesn’t care for me all that much either and really only wants to talk to me when she needs something or her mom isn’t around. It do be like that, I’m told. My wife being legit wonderful, I try not to take the constant outright rejection personally, but as you may have guessed, fail outright just about every time. I go to bed most nights feeling like garbage. She’s been having a hard time at school — I will be genuinely surprised if I get through today without a call to come pick her up; it would be the second of this week and she didn’t go yesterday — and doesn’t have a lot of friends because she loses it and yells and wants to control everything and is autistic as fuck but hell no I’m not getting her diagnosed when some moron is out there talking about how people on the spectrum don’t pay taxes so maybe we just put them in these camps over here or whatever wacky horrifying bullshit came out of his bloated face last week while I was in the Netherlands. Fuck that.

But it’s a hard time, mostly for her, but definitely also for everyone around her. She’s got a couple dickhead boys in her class who’re gonna be giving her shit through high school. You can already see which kids it is. Normal-little-fucker whiteboys. I refuse to tell my kid not to defend herself. She’s going to need to.

Up and down week, I guess. Feel good but tired coming home from Roadburn and the energy-comedown is always a shift to make. But this isn’t my first time at the dance either and I set up this week purposefully so that it was the Buzzard video, the Dead Shrine premiere and today’s Conan review in a row basically as a favor to myself — those are all projects I enjoy and am interested in writing about, and in the case of the latter two, there’s a back catalog for context and I enjoy exploring that as well, if you couldn’t tell in the part about In the Arms of God above.

Zelda update: I just last night finished the Tower of Gods and let The Pecan pull the Master Sword from sunken Hyrule Castle in The Wind Waker. I never played it when it came out because I didn’t have a GameCube and thought it looked stupid, but it’s a pretty great game and my head was up my drunk ass in my 20s in just about everything except getting married and listening to stoner rock. I’m running an emulator on my computer with a couple quality of life mods and it’s been great.

Hope you have a great and safe weekend. Thanks for reading, for giving me space to vent without getting shit for it. I value that more than I can say. Next week is full. There’s news to catch up on (always) and premieres slated for Slow Draw (full album, Monday) and Burning Sister (video, Tuesday), as well as a review of the new Hippie Death Cult live LP and so on. It’ll be a good time, and thanks if you tune in for it.

Don’t forget to hydrate. It’s getting hot out there. And watch your head as you go. Listen to the new Turtle Skull.

PS – Thanks to everyone who bought merch in this round. It’s down now, but I appreciate the support and got about $450 in off of that that goes to paying bills and buying coffee. Helps keep me afloat and feel like I’ve contributed to the house this month, so yes, thank you.

FRM.

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Granted it wasn’t the first time in Corrosion of Conformity‘s more than four decades that they did so, but it was a surprise nonetheless in September when the band bid farewell to founding bassist/vocalist Mike Dean, announcing they’d be continuing on with someone new. The someone has turned out to be Bobby Landgraf, who solidifies the lineup around guitarist/vocalist Pepper Keenan, guitarist/backing vocalist Woodroe Weatherman, and onstage drummer (I think it’s still) John Green.

The band didn’t make an announcement as such — it was the holidays, you know how it is — but Landgraf posted the photo-collage and brief confirmation on his socials. If you’re not familiar, his pedigree includes shenanigans-laced heavy rockers Honky, playing guitar alongside Keenan, fronting Snakes of Central Texas, teching for Pantera and a bunch of others, and so on. And of course, there’s video of him doing the thing filmed at Headbangers Boat a few weeks back (the photos below would seem to have originated there as well). It’s bootleg sound, but it’s also “Albatross,” so even if they weren’t showing off a revamped dynamic, really it’s its own excuse for being.

Last I heard, C.O.C. were still in-progress on the follow-up to their 2018 album, No Cross No Crown (review here), working with drummer Stanton Moore (who last appeared on the band’s 2005 outing, In the Arms of God) in the studio with Warren Riker producing. Videos go up periodically of this or that being recorded, but you wouldn’t accuse them of rushing it, and fair enough. No doubt the proceedings will be different without Dean there, but change is the order of the universe, so there you go.

2025 release? Surprise album and tour drop sometime in Spring? That’d rule. I, of course, know nothing. Ever. About anything. You get used to it after a while. A stupid kind of zen.

From socials:

Absolutely Thrilled to be in Corrosion of Conformity. Onwards and Upwards

Pics by Kevin RC Wilson

http://www.coc.com
http://www.facebook.com/corrosionofconformity
https://www.instagram.com/coccabal/

C.O.C., “Albatross” Live on Headbanger’s Boat

An architect and driving force behind one of the most successful heavy rock bands in the history of the style, bassist/vocalist Mike Dean will step away from the band he co-founded, Corrosion of Conformity. The band’s announcement today comes as something of a shock, and lands even as the long-tenured C.O.C. look to release a new album next year following-up 2018’s No Cross No Crown (review here), which reunited the group with guitarist/vocalist Pepper Keenan, also of Down.

The band notes below that those recordings are in progress, and this seems to be a fresh enough advent that there’s no word of who will replace Dean in handling the crucial bottom end of C.O.C.‘s sound, but at the very least, it means the next C.O.C. record will be just the second in the band’s 42-years-and-counting tenure not to feature Dean, who fronted both early and later incarnations, on bass. That leaves guitarist/backing vocalist Woody Weatherman as the lone remaining founding member, with Keenan having first come aboard for the other Dean-less LP, 1991’s Blind (discussed here), before stepping into the lead vocalist role on 1994’s commercial breakthrough, Deliverance (discussed here), for which Dean also made a return.

You can see his reasons listed below, among them the 2020 passing of drummer Reed Mullin, but whatever drove the decision, there’s no question that seeing the band onstage without him will be a big change, even if it’s not the first time such a thing has happened. And as Dean has a number of other projects and outlets, there’s a certain comfort in knowing it probably won’t be long before the next thing comes up.

Just saw this on socials, so here it is:

This is from our brother, Mike Dean:

“Recently I made a decision to step away from Corrosion Of Conformity, a band started 40 odd years ago by Reed Mullin, Woody Weatherman, and myself.

I’m extremely proud of everything we’ve done together, and look forward to hearing more from the band going forward.

When I rejoined COC for the finishing touches of the “Deliverance” album, I moved back to Raleigh, NC for an all-in creative campaign, but time, distance and side projects and life in general has changed all of that.

Ever since Reed drifted away from the band and then passed way, it’s been difficult for me to collaborate on new material with bandmates who live hundreds of miles away.

I look forward to putting together a new Raleigh based outlet to create new music with more alacrity and with more of an emphasis on my own ideas than in recent times.

Also, I look forward to continuing to record and produce other artists.

All the best to Woodroe, Pepper, and COC crew, and most importantly, many big thanks to the fans of all iterations of the band, who have made this real for all of these years.

Salute!

Mike Dean

PS Stay tuned here for links and more information”

We, Woodroe and Pepper, are in full support of Dean’s future endeavors and wish him all the best in the quest. Thankful for the music made and (R)evolutionary paths created.

That being said, this book of Corrosion is not finished, nor will the train stop. The opportunity to play music and create is something that we don’t take lightly, and we will not waver. New COC recording is well underway and will be released in 2025.

Much love and respect to all the free thinkin’ beer drinkin’ friends and fans worldwide, looking to making more. Without you, we are just growing deaf in a garage.

See you on the horizon.

Stay tuned, stay heavy.

Always,
Corrosion of Conformity

http://www.coc.com
http://www.facebook.com/corrosionofconformity
https://www.instagram.com/coccabal/

C.O.C., “Your Tomorrow”

I heard “Dance of the Dead” on the radio this week — that’s right, FM radio; thanks WSOU — and it prompted this revisit. Corrosion of Conformity‘s Blind came out in 1991 on Relativity Records with a follow-up release in 1995 through Columbia during the Raleigh, North Carolina-based outfit’s major label era, and to this day, it occupies a singular place in their history and discography. Running a ’90s-style 52 minutes and 13 songs, it was the first time they worked with producer John Custer, who has helmed everything they’ve done since, the only album they’ve ever done as a five-piece, the first that featured guitarist Pepper Keenan, who after this record would take over as their primary singer, and to my knowledge the only studio release they’ve had without founding bassist/sometimes-vocalist Mike Dean in the lineup.

Dean would be back in the band in time for 1994’s Deliverance (discussed here) as part of the definitive lineup with Keenan and fellow founders Woody Weatherman (guitar) and Reed Mullin (drums; R.I.P. 2020), but for Blind, bass was handled by Phil Swisher, while Karl Agell served as standalone frontman. Those two would play together in Leadfoot afterward, and Agell currently sings for both Lie Heavy and Legions of Doom, the latter of which is the post-Eric Wagner offshoot of The Skull, but during their time in C.O.C., they were part of the transitional moment between the raw punk and hardcore that defined their first two LPs, 1984’s Eye for an Eye, 1985’s Animosity, as well as 1987’s Technocracy EP, etc., and the Southern heavy rock they would in no small part help to shape over the rest of the 1990s.

You should know this isn’t an album I can pretend to be impartial about, let alone the band or the fact that human objectivity is a myth to begin with. Blind was one of the first CDs I ever owned, having unceremoniously swiped my older sister’s copy along with Master of Puppets, Rollins Band‘s Weight, Suicidal Tendencies‘ The Art of Rebellion, Alice in Chains‘ Sap and a couple others at around 10 years old, probably sometime in 1992 if I had to guess. “Damned for All Time” and the aforementioned “Dance of the Dead” — the one-two punch of charged riffing and crunching groove that follows the creeper-feedback-into-march of the intro “These Shrouded Temples…” — were on just about every mixtape I made for probably the next three years, the metal band connecting the over-ear headphones of my off-brand Walkman from the Caldor on Rt. 10 pulling my disaffected pubescent sadboy hair out with every tiny adjustment. I remember plotzing through the neighborhood on long walks with nowhere to put myself, sitting by the pond down the road, doing what I’d already been warned was irreparable damage to my hearing.

I’ll admit it’s been years since I actively engaged with it, but it’s always been there. The sinewy delivery of Agell in the chorus of “Mine Are the Eyes of God,” or the swaggering riff in “Painted Smiling Face,” the MTV-ready hooks and a sound that was in conversation with a classic heavy rock I’d yet to encounter; it was all new for me at that point, and I won’t say it’s the dragon of heavy I’ve been chasing all along for the last three-plus decades, but it spoke to me in a way that ‘regular’ rock and roll didn’t and helped me find my path into heavier and more metallic listening. Put simply, it changed my life.

Hearing it now, Blind is striking in its political theme. Even aside from “Vote with a Bullet,” which brought Keenan to lead vocals for the first time and is still a staple of C.O.C. live sets, its declarations of intended violence landing in something of a different context than when it first came out, cuts like the anti-white-supremacist “White Noise,” the envisioning a new world in “Great Purification” and more general anti-authority lines like “If the system had one neck/You know I’d gladly break it” in “Dance of the Dead,” and so on, land with a disaffection to coincide with the conversant-with-metal thrust behind the shred in “Painted Smiling Face,” and do so with a directness that one rarely if ever encounters in heavy rock now. It wasn’t the first or last time C.O.C. talked about social issues — lest we forget that the 2018 return LP from the Keenan, Dean, Weatherman and Mullin lineup was called No Cross No Crown (review here), or, you know, that the band’s name is Corrosion of Conformity — but while the language used and rhetoric have changed in the last 30 years, Blind taps American-style anti-governmentalism in a way that, coming off the Reagan years and as George Bush took the country to war in the Middle East in a preface to decades of moral and fiscal bankrupting, still resonates from its place in time.

Obviously, these weren’t cues I was picking up at 11 years old, but I understood wanting to break out, to not be told what to do, and internalized a lot of that from these songs, especially the singles. What I didn’t appreciate at the time was the connection via riffing to Black Sabbath in the starts and stops of “Buried” or the brooding, slower-rolling finale “Echoes in the Well” before the bookending outro “…Remain,” but that’s all over Blind in a way that not much I would’ve heard on the radio at the time would have captured. The idea of ‘heavy rock’ as something separate from metal didn’t really exist in the commercial sphere, but it’s inarguably here, and with the backdrop of what Corrosion of Conformity would accomplish in Deliverance, 1996’s Wiseblood (discussed here) and 2000’s more smoothly produced and undervalued America’s Volume Dealer, it feels both like the sore thumb standing out of their catalog and the root from which they grew into the band they wanted to be.

As noted, Agell is now in Lie Heavy and Legions of Doom, both of which one might consider actively active. Meanwhile, C.O.C. were last year beginning the process of putting together their next LP to follow No Cross No Crown, with Dean, Keenan and Weatherman collaborating with Galactic drummer Stanton Moore, who’d previously appeared on 2005’s In the Arms of God. I don’t know if that’ll be out this year, next year, or ever, but here’s hoping. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading.

—

I don’t have much time here. It’s coming on eight in the morning and The Patient Mrs. and The Pecan will soon be finished playing games on the iPad and ready to start a morning that, whatever shape it takes, will require direct participation from me. Off-laptop, in other words.

This week was my daughter’s spring break from school. It started last Friday ahead of Easter, and she goes back Monday unless we decide to abscond to Pittsburgh to watch the solar eclipse. Depends on the weather, partially. It hasn’t been the easiest of weeks — it rained and was cold and miserable from Monday through yesterday morning — but she had a half-day camp thing and ice skating lessons to keep her busy. But stuck-in-the-house, tv-off boredom might be a piece of why there’s been an uptick in attitude and more punches thrown. The other day I ended up carrying her screaming and kicking from the rink after she unloaded on The Patient Mrs. for trying to stop her from skating through the next lesson taking place on the ice. I held her down to get her skates off because I didn’t think she was in control enough to stop herself from hurting either of us. It was an especially shitty moment to be alive.

I got hit last night too, for missing a button combo in Super Mario RPG and some other infraction I can’t remember. It’s a lot of “you can’t tell me what to do” and “you have to do what I say” from her as she, I guess, works on figuring out her place in the world. It has not been pleasant, but neither was the week unipolar in awfulness. We snuggled and watched Bluey yesterday evening as The Patient Mrs. was out at dinner with a friend. Last weekend we went to Connecticut with family to color eggs. She had a nice Easter, kept it together well at brunch, and we beat Link’s Awakening on the Switch. The lows are low, but the lows aren’t everything, is what I’m saying.

We’ll see how today goes. As regards the arguments, the opposition, the way I think of it is like this: It’s never everything, but it could be anything, and it’s almost always something. I just remembered that the other thing I got hit for last night was that I didn’t anticipate she’d want the Chromecast (which hadn’t been used in a year before The Patient Mrs. and I moved it to our bedroom) to watch the “Dad Baby” episode of Bluey, which isn’t on Disney-Plus. So yeah. I’ll be honest and say I’ve had a hard time looking forward to the last couple days. Another mantra, “things will not always be as they are now.”

Two sides to that, of course. Like everything.

Next week is slammed front-to-back and I’m already behind on news, so whatever. I’ll do my best to write as much as I can and that’s that. I hope you have a great and safe weekend, whatever you’re up to. If you get to see the eclipse, don’t look at it. Otherwise, hydrate, move your body a bit, watch your head, and I’ll be back on Monday with more of whatever you call this at this point.

FRM.

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I mean, what can you say to this other than ‘can I come?’ I’ve known this festival was capable of some real-deal shit over the last decade, but this is absolutely epic, which is a word I do my best to avoid. And they end it by saying there’s more to come. God damn. Really. God damn.

Wow.

Here:

Desertfest London announce over 40 bands for 2023

Friday 5th May – Sunday 7th May 2023 | Weekend Tickets on sale now

BUY TICKETS HERE: https://www.desertfest.co.uk/

Desertfest London is rounding off the year with an ear-shattering bang, announcing a mammoth 43 artists to their 2023 line-up. Joining the likes of Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats, Graveyard, Kadavar and Church of Misery, the Camden-based festival also welcomes back Corrosion of Conformity as headliners.

Pioneers of a groove-laden sound that is undeniably their own, Corrosion of Conformity have not been back on UK soil since 2018 so expect big, loud and memorable things from their appearance at Desertfest next year. Corrosion of Conformity have been due to play the event since 2020 – making their return one of the most widely requested in the event’s history.

Japan’s own avant-garde maestros of down-tuned psychedelia Boris leap over to London alongside the crushingly loud tones of NOLA’s own Crowbar. One of the most exciting bands in recent memory King Buffalo, make their long-awaited debut plus Desertfest favourites, Weedeater are back after five long years of chugging whiskey lord-knows-where.

The pace moves up a notch with New York City’s noise-rock guru’s Unsane and British punk-legends Discharge, all of whom bring a detour from the slow’n’low sounds the festival is best recognised for. Montreal’s Big | Brave will play the festival for the first time showcasing their experimental and minimalist take on the notion of ‘heavy’, whilst the doors to the Church of The Cosmic Skull are open, as they ask Desertfest revellers to join them in a union unlike any other.

Desertfest also warmly welcomes noise from STAKE, British anti-fascist black metallers Dawn Ray’d and London’s loudest duo Tuskar as well as some of the best recent stoner acts in the form of Telekinetic Yeti, Weedpecker & Great Electric Quest. Elsewhere the weekend will also see Wren, The Necromancers, Dommengang, Samavayo, Morass of Molasses, Sum of R & GNOB offer up unique live performances.

Rounding off this beast of an announcement are Acid Mammoth, Deatchant, Zetra, Trevor’s Head, Our Man in The Bronze Age, Wyatt E., Iron Jinn, Mr Bison, Troy The Band, Oreyeon, Warren Schoenbright, Early Moods, Longheads, Terror Cosmico, Thunder Horse, TONS, Vinnum Sabbathi, Bloodswamp, The Age of Truth, Earl of Hell and Black Groove.

Weekend Tickets for Desertfest London 2023 are on-sale now via www.desertfest.co.uk
with more acts still to be announced.

Day splits and day tickets will be on sale from January.

Full Line-Up for Desertfest London 2023:
UNCLE ACID & THE DEADBEATS | GRAVEYARD | CORROSION OF CONFORMITY | KADAVAR | BORIS | CROWBAR | CHURCH OF MISERY | WEEDEATER | KING BUFFALO | BLOOD CEREMONY | DISCHARGE | SOMALI YACHT CLUB | UNSANE | BIG|BRAVE | INTER ARMA | CHURCH OF THE COSMIC SKULL | VALLEY OF THE SUN | STAKE | MARS RED SKY | SPACESLUG | GRAVE LINES | GAUPA | TUSKAR | TELEKINETIC YETI | WEEDPECKER | DAWN RAY’D | WREN | GREAT ELECTRIC QUEST | THE NECROMANCERS | DOMMENGANG | ECSTATIC VISION | SAMAVAYO | MORASS OF MOLASSES | SUM OF R | HIGH DESERT QUEEN | GNOB | EVEREST QUEEN | ACID MAMMOTH | DEATHCHANT | ZETRA | CELESTIAL SANCTUARY | TREVOR’S HEAD | OUR MAN IN THE BRONZE AGE | WYATT E. | MR BISON | TROY THE BAND | PLAINRIDE | IRON JINN | OREYEON | WARREN SCHOENBRIGHT | EARLY MOODS | LONGHEADS | TERROR COSMICO | THUNDER HORSE | TONS | VINNUM SABBATHI | BLOODSWAMP | VENOMWOLF | THE AGE OF TRUTH | EARL OF HELL | BLACK GROOVE | MARGARITA WITCH CULT

http://www.desertscene.co.uk/support
https://www.facebook.com/DesertfestLondon
https://www.instagram.com/desertfest_london/
https://twitter.com/DesertFest
https://www.desertfest.co.uk/

No lack of substance as Desertfest Berlin 2023 moves forward this morning (afternoon CET) with its second announcement for next May, adding the likes of Corrosion of Conformity, Bongzilla, Monolord, Slift, Minami Deutsch, Valley of the Sun, Dommengang, Kanaan, Mother Engine, and Gnome to what was already a packed bill. Accordingly, the European underground’s touring sphere — of which this fest is a significant part in the Spring season — is also starting to take shape, and if you’re paying attention, you can start to connect some of the dots for who will be on the road when and where, as well as speculate who will be out with whom, and so on. These are things I enjoy thinking about.

I’ve never been to this fest, would love to go. I imagine it’ll be a little different this year with a shift in venue, but my understanding is the vibe is where it’s at in Berlin, and after so many years, I have no trouble thinking Desertfest Berlin feels like home to many who will attend, no matter where it’s actually taking place. I mean, as long as it’s in Berlin. Would be weird if they decided to run Desertfest Berlin in Copenhagen one year or something (though an extension of the festival brand in that Danish city would likely be ace in its own right).

Here’s the latest, courtesy of the fest:

DESERTFEST BERLIN — NEW BANDS ADDED TO THE 2023 LINE-UP

Desertfest Berlin is happy to add to the line-up of the 2023 edition (May 19-21, 2023):

CORROSION OF CONFORMITY
MONOLORD
SLIFT
BONGZILLA
MINAMI DEUTSCH
MOTHER ENGINE
VALLEY OF THE SUN
DOMMENGANG
KANAAN
GNOME

Along with:
UNCLE ACID & THE DEADBEATS
THE OBSESSED
KING BUFFALO
CHURCH OF MISERY
DOZER
BLOOD CEREMONY
L.A. WITCH
SOMALI YACHT CLUB
GNOD
ECSTATIC VISION
DAILY THOMPSON
GAUPA
PSYCHLONA
+ much more TBA

Weekend tickets for Desertfest Berlin 2023 are on sale NOW via the link in our bio or www.desertfest.de

The new venues for the 2023 edition will be Columbiahalle and Columbia Theater Berlin (with additional outdoor space & stage).
Address: Columbiadamm 13-21, 10965 Berlin.

Desertfest Berlin May 19th – 21st 2023 will take place at Columbiahalle and Columbia Theater (with additional outdoor space & stage) this year.

Event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/1324621551683513/

www.desertfest.de
www.facebook.com/DesertfestBerlin
www.instagram.com/desertfest_berlin

Slift, Live at Desert Daze Festival, 0ct. 1, 2022

I don’t know how many of these posts I’ve done by now. Fewer than actual episodes, the number of which I do keep track. But it always feels a little weird. Yeah, guess what? I think it’s a cool show. Of course I fucking do. I made it. What, I’m going to try to suck?

So hey, this is a pretty good show. You should listen.

In all seriousness, I want to express my thanks to Gimme Metal for allowing me to continue to do this. Their platform has gotten huge in the last few years and they need my ass taking up two hours of precious air time like they need a reminder of traditional radio’s downfall, so it really means something to me that I get to weird out and share music for a new show every two weeks. I can’t even turn my playlists in on time. My voice tracks weren’t submitted until Tuesday! Terrible.

Bottom line though is Gimme doesn’t at all have to let me keep doing a show. In my embarrassing number of years, I’ve seen outside-the-genre interest in heavy rock, psych, doom, sludge, and so on wax and wane, and my experience is that if you’re not all the way in it, you’re eventually going to move on to something else that speaks to you. Nothing wrong with that, of course; it’s how life works. It’s why I’m not catholic. But for a company with their hands in so much other shit to allow someone like me to do my thing in my own way and my own time is pretty god damned rare and viscerally appreciated.

That’s all I’ve got to say about it, except that, again, this show is pretty good.

Thanks if you listen and thanks for reading.

The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.

Full playlist:

The Obelisk Show – 09.16.22 (VT = voice track)

King Buffalo	Mammoth	Regenerator
DRÖÖG	Stormhatt	DRÖÖG
Slomosa	There is Nothing New Under the Sun	Slomosa
VT
Fu Manchu	Mongoose	California Crossing
Stöner	Space Dude & The Burn	Totally…
Monolord	The Siren of Yirsinia	Your Time to Shine
Corrosion of Conformity	The Door	Wiseblood
Colour Haze	Goldmine	Sacred
Mythic Sunship	Equinox	Light/Flux
Blue Rumble	Brasas	Blue Lightning/Brasas
Solanhum	Basti (Falling into the Natural Realm)	Rostratum
Fogteeth	Delirium Man	Headspace
Electric Wizard	The Chosen Few	Witchcult Today
Alain Johannes	If Morning Comes	Hum
Red Sky Blues	Glowing	Red Sky Blues
VT
Kungens Män	Keeper of the One Key	VA – International Space Station Vol. 1

The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Sept. 30 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.

Gimme Metal website

The Obelisk on Facebook

Doors are in about half an hour. From the cursory reconnaissance I’ve done at this point, it’s easy to think the Knockdown Center could become a multi-year home for Desertfest New York. It’s big, which certainly helps, and there’s more space than is being used right now. The second stage room is tiny — the sense I get is that by the time Sasquatch go on that will be an issue, but no one’s here yet except for bands and I’ve got basically a warehouse room to myself to write this.

Got in last night at 1AM, woke up around 7AM, so not the worst night of sleep ever. I was destroyed last night by the end of that show. Utterly bludgeoned. But I made it home and I expect I’ll do the same tonight. Hydrate. Advil. Who wants to hear my litany of old man complaints about my plannar fasciitis in my right foot? Nobody, I know. But it’s there. A presence in my life.

Sasquatch are here, and Mothership, John Garcia and the Band of Gold are soundchecking. Geezer and Howling Giant and various others, some I know and some I don’t. It looks like a show. I still have no idea how I’ll cover it but I’ll write when I can while bouncing back and forth between stages and see as much as I can see. That’s pretty much always the plan anyway. With the support of the egg and cheese on chaffle sandwich The Patient Mrs. made me this morning and the bit of pecan butter I finished up on the ride in, I should buy myself a couple hours of go. After that, will need coffee.

But alas, one crisis at a time.

Leather Lung

They had some new songs and asked if there were sleazy motherfuckers in here or not. If not, I think the general humidity in this room should provide some before the night’s out. Leather Lung were one of the last bands I saw before lockdown, and their heavy swinging sludge-rock-plus-extreme-this-and-that remains as nasty as I remembered. They’ve filled the room and heads are nodding, more and more coming in. I can feel the rumbling of the low end in the concrete floor, so take from that what you will. The start of a fest like this is always nerve-racking. You have to find the groove of the place, the groove of the crowd, the groove of the timing and the groove of your own mindset. Fortunately, Leather Lung have plenty of groove to spare to aid that process, and their taking stage isn’t so much a wading into the river of riffs — the riffver??? — as a full-on crazy old-timey Southern church baptismal dunk. Who says you can’t have aggro songs about getting fucked up?

—

Black Tusk

I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this band before, but I’m also pretty sure it’s been at least a decade, if not longer. They’ve had their ups and some real-life tragedies along the way — like everybody — but they’re a pro-shop metal band and they play like it. First act on the big stage and similar to Leather Lung, The intent seems to have been to roll out with something meaner rather than a languid style. Hey man, mean works. They’re piping them outside to where the food trucks are through a separate P.A., and I guess if you want furious riffs with your souvlaki, that’s a go. I will abscond momentarily to the smaller room again for Howling Giant, whom I’ve only seen at Psycho Las Vegas, but whose shenanigans are already legion in my brain. I’ve been looking forward to it, as I’ve been looking forward to all of this. Black Tusk though, digging that ferocity. Pummeling. And very much in that way of bands who’ve spent forever touring that they could just plug in wherever and make that happen.

—

Howling Giant

These guys are a riot. A lot of bands can goof off and visibly have fun while playing their songs. Howling Giant can do that, play at a humbling level, and base it around killer material. They might be the only even vaguely prog-leaning heavy band out there who balance that against not taking themselves too seriously, and they absolutely refuse to leave their audience behind. Yeah, it was pretty god damned packed in that little room — they call it the Texas Stage, which is a little ironic considering the proportions — but my reason for walking out before Howling Giant were done had less to do ultimately with the heat and humidity and more with the sudden, very powerful urge I felt to buy a Howling Giant t-shirt. So I did that. Then, because there was no getting in whatsoever as the space was slammed with hoo-mans, I scootched over to the main stage again and chatted to some folks about this and that. Trying to remember to do that. There’s something like 1,400 people here this weekend. I feel like everybody’s everybody’s friend. That’s easier to think while Howling Giant play.

—

Mothership

Doesn’t matter who you think of from that infinite set of list ’70s heavy rock bands, Mothership do it better. Texas trio, trip on the ship, all that. Just a great time. I guess they’ve been off tour for a while — who hasn’t? — but they made the big stage feel small with just the three of them and a vitality that few in whichever microgenre can match, and that energy is infectious, particularly from Kelley Juett on guitar, who is the classic wildman on stage. I have seen them three times now, at Maryland Doom Fest, in Boston with C.O.C., and here, and in this big room and that small one, they filled the space with sound and a genuine feeling of celebrating rock and roll. Kyle Juett on bass and vocals is more subdued, and drummer Judge Smith sits back there like he’s about to start laughing his ass off any minute. And then he does. Even better. You gotta be doing something right when Orange Goblin are on this stage next and people are asking for one more song.

—

Geezer

Seems silly because I’ve seen them a bunch of times over their years — not much recently, duh — but I was really looking forward to Geezer’s set. It’s okay to like a band, right? I feel like I know their new album, Stoned Blues Machine, pretty well, since I was there when most of the basics were recorded and don’t tell anyone but I’m streaming it this coming Wednesday, but it was nothing but a pleasure to hear those songs come to life on stage. “Cold Black Heart,” “Atomic Moronic,” “Logan’s Run.” That’s a good-ass time. And they seemed in high spirits, no implication intended as to lucidity. Kind of a release show for them, since the record’s out next week, but I still haven’t seen any merch from them around. So it goes. The smaller room — I’ve heard a few complaints; it is what it is; be earlier — has a kind of raised floor along stage left and I went up there for a bit and watched. They’re not quite hometown heroes in NYC, but they draw a good crowd and deliver to them. That made it a little extra satisfying to watch them kill as they did.

—

Orange Goblin

Orange Goblin. I mean, what do you say about a band like that? This was my first time seeing them with Harry Armstrong — apparently also his first time in New York, as was declared from the stage — but come on, was there any way it was going to be anything less than stellar? My real question is whether Ben Ward will come out for a guest spot with John Garcia later. But I’ve been seeing this band live for well over a decade and a half and I’ve not once been underwhelmed. I’ve seen them here, in London, elsewhere, and all they do is rock and roll. I feel like there are so many other bands I don’t need to see because I’ve seen Orange Goblin, and that’s not a slag on anybody, but god damn. You never know when they’re not gonna come back (to take the living), so I feel like every set should be treasured, and this one certainly will be. That sounds corny as shit, but I mean it. I read they’ve got new material in the works too. How hard will they tour? How feasible is it? I don’t think it’s a question of how much they have in the tank, because watching them play, the answer is plenty, but with all they’ve done, the influence they’ve had, they still get on stage and bring it like a hungry band. They’re one of a kind, much to the chagrin of the many pretenders out there.

—

Holy Death Trio

It certainly did get dark in that little room. And I guess not so much with turning lights on. Okay, you make do. Holy Death Trio came up from Texas to play this show, and they played like a next-generation act, like they’ve got it together, have a plan when they go on stage and have put in the work to make their presentation as engaging as possible. One assumes it would’ve been even more so with lights on, but you know, sometimes it can be like a secret. Hey this band is super-cool but shh. Their record came out through Ripple last year in the label’s Blasko-curated splurge and if they’re going to tour for real life, it seems like they’re the kind of act where people are going to ask if you’ve seen them yet. I have now, and I’ll hope to again. They’ve got a party atmosphere — if you want to keep it to Austin bands, they’re like a less frenetic Amplified Heat — but they’re all the more exciting since they seem to be finding and still developing their approach. And make no mistake, asses were kicked. All I’m saying is that if they keep on the way they’re going, more will be in the years to come.

—

John Garcia and the Band of Gold

A good mix of John Garcia solo stuff and the requisite Kyuss tunes. “July” from Slo Burn. How could you fit everything from such a career? He said from the stage that they hadn’t done anything in two and a half years. Me neither, dude, one YOB show and a couple outdoor Sun Voyager gigs notwithstanding. Perhaps the weekend’s most brutal conflict is John Garcia on the same time as Sasquatch. That’s a hard one to live through, though not like there’s a wrong answer, except leaving. “Whitewater” felt duly like a watershed moment, the band by then totally warmed up and killing it. I guess you’d say Garcia’s stage presence is quiet. He has his moves but doesn’t go nuts or anything. He thanked the crowd and the Desertfest crew though respectfully and even when Sasquatch went on in the smaller room it was packed. Less all-charge than Orange Goblin, because that’s the music they play, but they tore up that jam in “Whitewater” and earned that whole Band of Gold moniker, even before they kicked into an uptempo take on “Green Machine” to close out. I saw Vista Chino play that song. That was cool too. This is a drunk crowd. Maybe I’m not the only one for whom this is pandemic-breakout, which inevitably is more fun than an outbreak, also happening but let’s not talk about it.

—

Sasquatch

I know it’s been a long day because I had to look up whether Sasquatch’s new album, Fever Fantasy, had been announced yet and I’m the one who wrote the announcement. You want rock and roll? There it is. That band. Keith Gibbs, Jason Casanova, Craig Riggs. Holy shit. They are the American heavy rock ideal, unstoppable in their momentum until they pull the rug out from under and lock in another killer groove. They opened with “Just Couldn’t Stand the Weather.” I fucking love “Just Couldn’t Stand the Weather!” How did they know? And I kind of feel like people holding up their cellphone flashlights when the band asked for more light on the stage was as close as the universe was going to come to doing me personal favors tonight, beyond simply being here. But Sasquatch have already been back on tour and they’ve got more in the works as I understand it, but god damn, just go see them. Just go. How many bands pass 20 years since they started and still deliver like that? There are a couple on the bill tonight, actually, but outside this building it’s far rarer. It was packed in the room 15 minutes before they went on, and the lights were low again, but whatever, it’s fucking Sasquatch. Bullshit need not apply.

—

Corrosion of Conformity

They went on 15 minutes late, which, you know, so it goes when there’s no one else playing behind you. Plenty of Judas Priest to listen to in the meantime. By the time they were through the jammmy take on “Paranoid Opioid” that opened the set, Mike Dean starting it off quiet on bass — fucking rad — time didn’t matter. Plenty of the standards in the set, including “Vote with a Bullet,” which I wondered if they’d break out (Pepper Keenan said something about it on stage but I didn’t catch what), but I guess it’s been a year since there was an insurrection on the Capitol Hill, so, fair game. Highlight for me might’ve been “Born Again for the Last Time,” which will be stuck in my head forever and that’s just fine, but there was plenty of competition there, and I was just really, really happy to see them again. I wonder if they’ll do another record. That’d be interesting. They probably don’t need to yet, really — I don’t think there was anything from the latest album in the set — but I’d be curious what they came up with after a few quiet years and the road time they put in before and apparently after the covid era, such as it is. Bottom line though is new album or not, I’ve been listening to this band since before I hit puberty and every chance I get to watch them play I’m happy to do it. More so as time goes on.

—

Other Random Observations:

– Dude in the Ween shirt wins shirts. In general there’s a bit of deviance from the black-shirt-blue-jeans norm. I support that.

– I have good friends here, new and old. It’s important to remember that. I have been and continue to be pretty isolated in regular life.

– Lot of couples attending.

– Knockdown Center could have four stages going, easy, and that’s before you put anything outside other than the food trucks.

– I have hugged and been hugged more this evening than in the last two and a half years.

– I’m still not 100 percent sure if I’m in Brooklyn or Queens. Life, huh?

– Still feels a little weird being out, but I brought a mask and I haven’t felt compelled to wear it as yet, so that’s… progress?

– Thanks for reading.

More pics after the jump.

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