Oh hi, I’m pretending I didn’t see you there. Today the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review hits and — if Apollo is willing — passes the halfway point en route to 70 total records to be covered by the end of next Tuesday. Then there’s another 50 at least to come next month, so I don’t know what ‘quarter’ that’s gonna be but I don’t really have another name for this kind of roundup just sitting in my back pocket, so if we have to fudge one or expand Spring in such a way, I sincerely doubt anyone but me actually cares that it’s a little weird this time through. And I’m not even sure I care, to be honest. Surely “notice” would be a better word.

Either way, thanks for reading. Hope you’ve found something cool thus far and hope you find more today. Let’s roll.

Quarterly Review #31-40:

Rotor, Sieben

Seven full-lengths and a quarter-century later, it’s nigh on impossible to argue with Berlin instrumentalists Rotor. Sieben — or simply 7, depending on where you look — is their latest offering, and in addition to embracing heavy psychedelia with enough tonal warmth on “Aller Tage Abend” to remind that they’re contemporaries to Colour Haze, the seven-song/38-minute LP has room for the jazzy classic prog flashes of “Mäander” later on and the more straight-ahead fuzzy crunch of “Reibach,” which opens, and the contrast offered by the acoustic guitar and friendly roll that emerges on the closing title-track. Dug into the groove and Euro-size XXL (that’s XL to Americans) riffing of “Kahlschlag,” there’s never a doubt that it’s Rotor you’re hearing, and the same is true of “Aller Tage Abend,” the easy-nodding second half and desert-style chop of “Schabracke,” and everything else; the simple fact is that Rotor these 25 years on can be and in fact are all of these things and more besides while also being a band who have absolutely nothing to prove. Sieben celebrates their progression, the riffs at their roots, the old and new in their makeup and the mastery with which they’ve made the notion of ‘instrumental heavy rock’ so much their own. It’s a lesson gladly learned again, and 2023 is a better year with Sieben in it.

Rotor on Facebook

Noisolution website

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Seer of the Void, Mantra Monolith

Athens-based sludge-and-then-some rockers Seer of the Void follow their successful 2020 debut, Revenant, with the more expansive Mantra Monolith, enacting growth on multiple levels, be it the production and general largesse of their sound, the songs becoming a bit longer (on average) or the ability to shift tempos smoothly between “Electric Father” and “Death is My Name” without giving up either momentum or the attitude as emphasized in the gritty vocals of bassist Greg “Maddog” Konstantaras. Side B’s “Demon’s Hand” offers a standout moment of greater intensity, but Seer of the Void are hardly staid elsewhere, whether it’s the swinging verse of “Hex” that emerges from the massive intro, or the punkish vibe underscoring the nonetheless-metal head-down chug in the eponymous “Seer of the Void.” They cap with a clearheaded fuzzy solo in “Necromancer,” seeming to answer the earlier “Seventh Son,” and thereby highlight the diversity manifest from their evolution in progress, but if one enjoyed the rougher shoves of Revenant (or didn’t; prior experience isn’t a barrier to entry), there remains plenty of that kind of tonal and rhythmic physicality in Mantra Monolith.

Seer of the Void on Facebook

Venerate Industries on Bandcamp

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Moodoom, Desde el Bosque

Organic roots doom from the trio Moodoom — guitarist/vocalist Cristian Marchesi, bassist/vocalist Jonathan Callejas and drummer Javier Cervetti — captured en vivo in the band’s native Buenos Aires, Desde el Bosque is the trio’s second LP and is comprised of five gorgeous tracks of Sabbath-worshiping heavy blues boogie, marked by standout performances from Marchesi and Callejas often together on vocals, and the sleek Iommic riffing that accounts as well for the solos layered across channels in the penultimate “Nadie Bajará,” which is just three minutes long but speaks volumes on what the band are all about, which is keep-it-casual mellow-mover heavy, the six-minute titular opening/longest track (immediate points) swaggering to its own swing as meted out by Cervetti with a proto-doomly slowdown right in the middle before the lightly-funked solo comes in, and the finale “Las Maravillas de Estar Loco” (‘the wonders of being crazy,’ in English) rides the line between heavy rock and doom with no less grace, introducing a line of organ or maybe guitar effects along with the flawless groove proffered by Callejas and Cervetti. It’s only 23 minutes long, but definitely an album, and exactly the way a classic-style power trio is supposed to work. Gorgeously done, and near-infinite in its listenability.

Moodoom on Facebook

Moodoom on Bandcamp

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Altered States, Survival

The second release and debut full-length from New Jersey-based trio Altered States runs seven tracks and 34 minutes and finds individualism in running a thread through influences from doom and heavy rock, elder hardcore and metal, resulting in the synth-laced stylistic intangibility of “A Murder of Crows” on side A and the smoothly-delivered proportion of riff in the eponymous “Altered States” later on, bassist Zack Kurland (Green Dragon, ex-Sweet Diesel, etc.) taking over lead vocals in the verse to let guitarist/synthesist Ryan Lipynsky (Unearthly Trance, Serpentine Path, The Howling Wind, etc.) take the chorus, while drummer Chris Daly (Texas is the Reason, Resurrection, 108, etc.) punctuates the urgency in opener “The Crossing” and reinforces the nod of “Cerberus.” There’s an exploration of dynamic underway on multiple levels throughout, whether it’s the guitar and keys each feeling out their space in the mix, or the guitar and bass, vocal arrangements, and so on, but with the atmospheric centerpiece “Hurt” — plus that fuzz right around the 2:30 mark before the build around the album’s title line — just two songs past the Motörheaded “Mycelium,” it’s clear that however in-development their sound may be, Altered States already want for nothing as regards reaching out from their doom rocking center, which is that much richer with multiple songwriters behind it.

Altered States on Facebook

Altered States on Bandcamp

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Giöbia, Acid Disorder

Opener and longest track (immediate points) “Queen of Wands” is so hypnotic you almost don’t expect its seven minutes to end, but of course they do, and Italian strange-psych whatevernauts Giöbia proceed from there to float guitar over and vocals over the crunched-down “The Sweetest Nightmare” before the breadth of “Consciousness Equals Energy” and “Screaming Souls” melds outer-rim-of-the-galaxy space prog with persistently-tripped Europsych lushness, heavy in its underpinnings but largely unrestrained by gravity or concerns for genre. Acid Disorder is the maybe-fifth long-player from the Italian cosmic rocking aural outsiders, and their willingness to dive into the unknown is writ large through the synth and organ layers and prominent strum of “Blood is Gone,” the mix itself becoming no less an instrument in the band’s collective hand than the guitar, bass, drums, vocals, etc. Ultra-fluid throughout (duh), the eight-songer tops out around 44 minutes and is an adventure for the duration, the drift of side B’s instrumental “Circo Galattico” reveling in experimentalism over a somehow-solidified rhythm while “In Line” complements in answer to “The Sweetest Nightmare” picking up from “Queen of Wands” at the outset, leaving the closing title-track on its own, which seems to fit its synth-and-sitar-laced serenity just fine. Band sounds like everything and nobody but themselves, reliably.

Giöbia on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

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Astral Hand, Lords of Data

Like everything, Milwaukee heavy psychedelia purveyors Astral Hand were born out of destruction. In this case, it’s the four-piece’s former outfit Calliope that went nova, resulting in the recycling of cosmic gasses and gravitational ignition wrought in the debut album Lords of Data‘s eight songs, the re-ish-born new band benefitting from the experience of the old as evidenced by the patient unfolding of side A capper “Psychedelicide,” the defining hook in “Universe Machine” and the shove-then-drone-then-shove in “End of Man” and the immersive heft in opener “Not Alone” that brings the listener deep into the nod from the very start of the first organ notes so that by the time they’ve gone as far out as the open spaces of “Navigator” and the concluding “God Emperor,” their emergent command of the ethereal is unquestionable. They work a little shuffle into that finale, which is an engaging touch, but Lords of Data — a thoroughly modern idea — isn’t limited to that any more than it is the atmospheric grandiosity and lumber of “Crystal Gate” that launches side B. One way or the other, these dudes have been at it for more than a decade going back to the start of Calliope, but Astral Hand is a stirring refresh of purpose on their part and one hopes their lordship continues to flourish. I don’t know that they’re interested in such terrestrial concerns, but they’d be a great pickup for some discerning label.

Astral Hand on Facebook

Astral Hand on Bandcamp

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Golden Bats, Scatter Yr Darkness

Slow-churning intensity is the order of the day on Scatter Yr Darkness, the eight-song sophomore LP from now-Italy-based solo-outfit Golden Bats, aka Geordie Stafford, who sure enough sprinkles death, rot and no shortage of darkness across the album’s 41-minute span, telling tales through metaphor in poetic lyrics of pandemic-era miseries; civic unrest and disaffection running like a needle through split skin to join the various pieces together. Echoing shouts give emphasis to the rawness of the sludge in “Holographic Stench” and “Erbgrind,” but in that eight-minute cut there’s a drop to cinematic, not-actually-minimalist-but-low-volume string sounds, and “Breathe Misery” begins with Mellotron-ish melancholy that hints toward the synth at the culmination of “A Savage Dod” and in the middle of “Malingering,” so nothing is actually so simple as the caustic surface makes it appear. Drums are programmed and the organ in “Bravo Sinkhole” and other keys may be as well, I don’t know, but as Stafford digs into Golden Bats sonically and conceptually — be it the bareknuckle “Riding in the Captain’s Skull” at the start or the raw-throated vocal echo spread over “The Gold Standard of Suffering,” which closes — the harshness of expression goes beyond the aural. It’s been a difficult few years, admittedly.

Golden Bats on Facebook

Golden Bats on Bandcamp

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Zeup, Mammals

Straightforward in a way that feels oldschool in speaking to turn-of-the-century era heavy rock influences — big Karma to Burn vibe in the riffs of “Hollow,” and not by any means only there — the debut album Mammals from Danish trio Zeup benefits from decades of history in metal and rock on the part of drummer Morten Barth (ex-Wasted) and bassist/producer Morten Rold (ex-Beyond Serenity), and with non-Morten guitarist Jakob Bach Kristensen (also production) sharing vocals with Rold, they bring a down-to-business sensibility to their eight component tracks that can’t be faked. That’s consistent with 2020’s Blind EP (review here) and a fitting demonstration for any who’d take it on that sometimes you don’t need anything more than the basic guitar, bass, drums, vocals when the songs are there. Sure, they take some time to explore in the seven-minute instrumental “Escape” before hitting ground again in the aptly-titled slow post-hardcore-informed closer “In Real Life,” but even that is executed with clear intention and purpose beyond jamming. I’ll go with “Rising” as a highlight, but it’s a pick-your-poison kind of record, and there’s an awful lot that’s going to sound needlessly complicated in comparison.

Zeup on Facebook

Ozium Records store

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Giant Sleep, Grounded to the Sky

Grounded to the Sky is the third LP from Germany’s Giant Sleep, and with it the band hones a deceptively complex scope drawn together in part by vocalist Thomas Rosenmerkel, who earns the showcase position with rousing blues-informed performances on the otherwise Tool-ish prog metal title-track and the later-Soundgardening leadoff before it, “Silent Field.” On CD and digital, the record sprawls across nearly an hour, but the vinyl edition is somewhat tighter, leaving off “Shadow Walker” and “The Elixir” in favor of a 43-minute run that puts the 4:43 rocker “Sour Milk” in the closer position, not insubstantially changing the personality of the record. Founded by guitarist Patrick Hagmann, with Rosenmerkel in the lineup as well as guitarist/backing vocalist Tobias Glanzmann (presumably that’ll be him in the under-layer of “Siren Song”), bassist Radek Stecki and drummer Manuel Spänhauer, they sound full as a five-piece and are crisp in their production and delivery even in the atmospherically minded “Davos,” which dares some float and drift along with a political commentary and feels like it’s taking no fewer chances in doing so, and generally come across as knowing who they are as a band and what they want to do with their sound, then doing it. In fact, they sound so sure, I’m not even certain why they sent the record out for review. They very obviously know they nailed what they were going for, and yes, they did.

Giant Sleep on Facebook

Czar of Crickets Productions website

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Green Yeti, Necropolitan

It’s telling that even the CD version of Green Yeti‘s Necropolitan breaks its seven tracks down across two sides. The Athens trio of guitarist/vocalist Michael Andresakis, bassist Dani Avramidis and drummer Giannis Koutroumpis touch on psychedelic groove in the album-intro “Syracuse” before turning over to the pure post-Kyuss rocker “Witch Dive,” which Andresakis doing an admirable John Garcia in the process, before the instrumental “Jupiter 362” builds tension for five minutes without ever exploding, instead giving out to the quiet start of side A’s finish in “Golgotha,” which likewise builds but turns to harsher sludge rock topped by shouts and screams in the midsection en route to an outright cacophonous second half. That unexpected turn — really, the series of them — makes it such that as the bass-swinging “Dirty Lung” starts its rollout on side B, you don’t know what’s coming. The answer is half-Sleepy ultra-burl, but still. “Kerosene” stretches out the desert vibe somewhat, but holds a nasty edge to it, and the nine-minute “One More Bite,” which closes the record, has a central nod but feels at any moment like it might swap it for further assault. Does it? It’s worth listening to the record front to back to find out. Hail Greek heavy, and Green Yeti‘s willingness to pluck from microgenre at will is a good reason why.

Green Yeti on Facebook

Green Yeti on Bandcamp

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Welcome to the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review. Between today and next Tuesday, a total of 70 records will be covered with a follow-up week slated for May bringing that to 120. Rest assured, it’ll be plenty. If you’re reading this, I feel safe assuming you know the deal: 10 albums per day from front to back, ranging in style, geography, type of release — album, EP, singles even, etc. — and the level of hype and profile surrounding. The Quarterly Review is always a massive undertaking, but I’ve never done one and regretted it later, and looking at what’s coming up across the next seven days, there are more than few records featured that are already on my ongoing best of 2023 list. So please, keep an eye and ear out, and hopefully you’ll also find something new that speaks to you.

We begin.

Quarterly Review #1-10:

ISAAK, Hey

Last heard from as regards LPs with 2015’s Serominize (review here) and marking 10 years since their 2013 debut under the name, The Longer the Beard the Harder the Sound (review here), Genoa-based heavy rockers ISAAK return with the simply-titled Hey and encapsulate the heads-up fuzz energy that’s always been at the core of their approach. Vocalist Giacomo H. Boeddu has hints of Danzig in “OBG” and the swing-shoving “Sleepwalker” later on, but whether it’s the centerpiece Wipers cover “Over the Edge,” the rolling “Dormhouse” that follows, or the melodic highlight “Rotten” that precedes, the entire band feel cohesive and mature in their purposeful songwriting. They’re labelmates and sonic kin to Texas’ Duel, but less bombastic, with a knife infomercial opening their awaited third record before the title-track and “OBG” begin to build the momentum that carries the band through their varied material, spacious on “Except,” consuming in the apex of “Fake it Till You Make It,” but engaging throughout in groove and structure.

ISAAK on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds on Bandcamp

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Iron Void, IV

With doom in their collective heart and riffs to spare, UK doom metal traditionalists Iron Void roll out a weighted 44 minutes across the nine songs of their fourth full-length, IV, seeming to rail against pandemic-era restrictions in “Grave Dance” and tech culture in “Slave One” while “Pandora’s Box” rocks out Sabbathian amid the sundry anxieties of our age. Iron Void have been around for 25 years as of 2023 — like a British Orodruin or trad-doom more generally, they’ve been undervalued for most of that time — and their songwriting earns the judgmental crankiness of its perspective, but each half of the LP gets a rousing closer in “Blind Dead” and “Last Rites,” and Iron Void doom out like there’s no tomorrow even on the airier “She” because, as we’ve seen in the varying apocalypses since the band put out 2018’s Excalibur (review here), there might not be. So much the better to dive into the hook of “Living on the Earth” or the grittier “Lords of the Wasteland,” the metal-of-yore sensibility tapping into early NWOBHM without going full-Maiden. Kind of a mixed bag, it might take a few listens to sink in, but IV shows the enduring strengths of Iron Void and is clearly meant more for those repeat visits than some kind of cloying immediacy. An album to be lived with and doomed with.

Iron Void on Facebook

Shadow Kingdom Records website

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Dread Witch, Tower of the Severed Serpent

An offering of thickened, massive lava-flow sludge, plodding doom and atmospheric severity, Dread Witch‘s self-released (not for long, one suspects) first long-player, Tower of the Severed Serpent, announces a significant arrival on the part of the onslaught-prone Danish outfit, who recorded as a trio, play live as a five-piece and likely need at least that many people to convey the density of a song like the opener/longest track (immediate points) “The Tower,” the eight minutes of which are emblematic of the force of execution with which the band delivers the rest of what follows, runtimes situated longest to shortest across the near-caustic chug of “Serpent God,” the Celtic Frost-y declarations and mega-riff ethos of “Leech,” the play between key-led minimalism and all-out stomp on “Wormtongue” and the earlier-feeling noise intensity of “Into the Crypt” before the more purely ambient but still heavy instrumental “Severed” wraps, conveying weight of emotion to complement the tonal tectonics prior. Bordering on the extreme and clearly enjoying the crush that doing so affords them, Dread Witch make more of a crater than an impression and would be outright barbaric were their sound not so methodical in immersing the audience. Pro sound, loaded with potential, heavy as shit; these are the makings of a welcome debut.

Dread Witch on Facebook

Dread Witch on Bandcamp

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Tidal Wave, The Lord Knows

Next-generation heavy fuzz purveyed with particular glee, Tidal Wave seem to explore the very reaches they conjure through verses and choruses on their eight-song Ripple Music label debut (second LP overall behind 2019’s Blueberry Muffin), The Lord Knows, and they make the going fun throughout the 41-minute outing, finding the shuffle in the shove of “Robbero Bobbero” while honing classic desert idolatry on “Lizard King” and “End of the Line” at the outset. What a relief it is to know that heavy rock and roll won’t die with the aging-out of so many of its Gen-X and Millennial purveyors, and as Tidal Wave step forward with the low-end semi-metal roll of “Pentagram” and the grander spaces of “By Order of the King” before “Purple Bird” returns to the sands and “Thorsakir” meets that on an open field of battle, it seems the last word has not been said on Tidal Wave in terms of aesthetic. They’ve got time to continue to push deeper into their craft — and maybe that will or won’t result in their settling on one path or another — but the range of moods on The Lord Knows suits them well, and without pretense or overblown ceremony the Sundsvall four-piece bring together elements of classic heavy rock and metal while claiming a persona that can move back and forth between them. Kind of the ideal for a younger band.

Tidal Wave on Facebook

Ripple Music on Bandcamp

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Guided Meditation Doomjazz, Expect

Persistently weird in the mold of Arthur Brown with unpredictability as a defining feature, Guided Meditation Doomjazz may mostly be a cathartic salve for founding bassist, vocalist, experimentalist, etc.-ist Blaise the Seeker, but that hardly makes the expression any less valid. Expect arrives as a five-song EP, ready to meander in the take-the-moniker-literally “Collapse in Dignity” and the fuzz-drenched slow-plod finisher “Sit in Surrender” — watery psychedelic guitar weaving overhead like a cloud you can reshape with your mind — that devolves into drone and noise, but not unstructured and not without intention behind even its most out-there moments. The bluesy sway of “The Mind is Divided” follows the howling scene-setting of the titular opener, while “Stream of Crystal Water” narrates its verse over crunchier riffing before the sung chorus-of-sorts, the overarching dug-in sensibility conveying some essence of what seems despite a prolific spate of releases to be an experience intended for a live setting, with all the one-on-one mind-expansion and arthouse performance that inevitably coincides with it. Still, with a rough-feeling production, Expect carries a breadth that makes communing with it that much easier. Go on, dare to get lost for a little while. See where you end up.

Guided Meditation Doomjazz on Facebook

The Swamp Records on Bandcamp

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Cancervo, II

II is the vocalized follow-up to Cancervo‘s 2021 debut, 1 (review here), and finds the formerly-instrumental Lombardy, Italy, three-piece delving further into the doomed aspects of the initial offering with a greater clarity on “Arera,” “Herdsman of Grem” and “The Cult of Armentarga,” letting some of the psychedelia of the first record go while maintaining enough of an atmosphere to be hypnotic as the vocals follow the marching rhythm as the latter track moves into its midsection or the rhythmic chains in the subsequent “Devil’s Coffin” (an instrumental) lock step with the snare in a floating, loosely-Eastern-scaled break before the bigger-sounding end. Between “Devil’s Coffin” and the feedback-prone also-instrumental “Zambla” ahead of 8:43 closer “Zambel’s Goat” — on which the vocals return in a first-half of subdued guitar-led doomjamming prior to the burst moment at 4:49 — II goes deeper as it plays through and is made whole by its meditative feel, some semblance of head-trip cult doom running alongside, but if it’s a cult it’s one with its own mythology. Not where one expected them to go after 1, but that’s what makes it exciting, and that they lay claim to arrangement flourish, chanting vocals and slogging tempos as they do bodes well for future exploration.

Cancervo on Facebook

Electric Valley Records website

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Dirge, Dirge

So heavy it crashed my laptop. Twice. The second full-length from Mumbai post-metallers Dirge is a self-titled four-songer that culls psychedelia from tonal tectonics, not contrasting the two but finding depth in the ways they can interact. Mixed by Sanford Parker, the longer-form pieces comprise a single entirety without seeming to have been written as one long track, the harsh vocals of Tabish Khidir adding urgency to the guitar work of Ashish Dharkar and Varun Patil (the latter also backing vocals) as bassist Harshad Bhagwat and drummer Aryaman Chatterji underscore and punctuate the chugging procession of opener “Condemned” that’s offset if not countermanded by its quieter stretch. If you’re looking for your “Stones From the Sky”-moment as regards riffing, it’s in the 12-minute second cut, “Malignant,” the bleak triumph of which spills over in scream-topped angularity into “Grief” (despite a stop) while the latter feels all the more massive for its comedown moments. In another context, closer “Hollow” might be funeral doom, but it’s gorgeous either way, and it fits with the other three tracks in terms of its interior claustrophobia and thoughtful aggression. They’re largely playing toward genre tenets, but Dirge‘s gravity in doing so is undeniable, and the space they create is likewise dark and inviting, if not for my own tech.

Dirge on Facebook

Dirge store

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Witch Ripper, The Flight After the Fall

Witch Ripper‘s sophomore LP and Magnetic Eye label-debut, The Flight After the Fall, touches on anthemic prog rock and metal with heavy-toned flourish and plenty of righteous burl in cuts like “Madness and Ritual Solitude” and the early verses of “The Obsidian Forge,” though the can-sing vocals of guitarists Chad Fox and Curtis Parker and bassist Brian Kim — drummer Joe Eck doesn’t get a mic but has plenty to do anyhow — are able to push that centerpiece and the rest of what surrounds over into the epic at a measure’s notice. Or not, which only makes Witch Ripper more dynamic en route to the 16:45 sprawling finish of “Everlasting in Retrograde Parts 1 and 2,” picking up from the lyrics of the leadoff “Enter the Loop” to put emphasis on the considered nature of the release as a whole, which is a showcase of ambition in songwriting as much as performance of said songs, conceptual reach and moments of sheer pummel. It’s been well hyped, and by the time “Icarus Equation” soars into its last chorus without its wings melting, it’s easy to hear why in the fullness of its progressive heft and melodic theatricality. It’s not a minor undertaking at 47 minutes, but it wouldn’t be a minor undertaking if it was half that, given the vastness of Witch Ripper‘s sound. Be ready to travel with it.

Witch Ripper on Facebook

Magnetic Eye Records store

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Pelegrin, Ways of Avicenna

In stated narrative conversation with the Arabic influence on Spanish and greater Western European (read: white) culture, specifically in this case as regards the work of Persian philosopher Ibn Sina, Parisian self-releasing three-piece Pelegrin follow-up 2019’s Al-Mahruqa (review here) with the expansive six songs of Ways of Avicenna, with guitarist/vocalist François Roze de Gracia, bassist/backing vocalist Jason Recoing and drummer/percussionist Antoine Ebel working decisively to create a feeling of space not so much in terms of the actual band in the room, but of an ancient night sky on songs like “Madrassa” and the rolling heavy prog solo drama of the later “Mystical Appear,” shades of doom and psychedelia pervasive around the central riff-led constructions, the folkish middles of “Thunderstorm” and “Reach for the Sun” and the acoustic two-minute “Disgrace” a preface to the patient manner in which the trio feel their way into the final build of closer “Forsaken Land.” I’m neither a historical scholar nor a philosopher, and thankfully the album doesn’t require you to be, but Pelegrin could so easily tip over into the kind of cartoonish cultural appropriation that one finds among certain other sects of European psychedelia, and they simply don’t. Whether the music speaks to you or not, appreciate that.

Pelegrin on Facebook

Pelegrin on Bandcamp

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Black Sky Giant, Primigenian

Lush but not overblown, Argentinian instrumentalists Black Sky Giant fluidly and gorgeously bring together psychedelia and post-rock on their third album, Primigenian, distinguishing their six-song/31-minute brevity with an overarching progressive style that brings an evocative feel whether it’s to the guitar solos in “At the Gates” or the subsequent kick propulsion of “Stardust” — which does seem to have singing, though one can barely make out what if anything is actually being said — as from the denser tonality of the opening title-track, they go on to unfurl the spiritual-uplift of “The Great Hall,” fading into a cosmic boogie on the relatively brief “Sonic Thoughts” as they, like so many, would seem to have encountered SLIFT‘s Ummon sometime in the last two years. Doesn’t matter; it’s just a piece of the puzzle here and the shortest track, sitting as it does on the precipice of capper “The Foundational Found Tapes,” which plays out like amalgamated parts of what might’ve been other works, intermittently drummed and universally ambient, as though to point out the inherently incomplete nature of human-written histories. They fade out that last piece after seeming to put said tapes into a player of some sort (vague samples surrounding) and ending with an especially dream-toned movement. I wouldn’t dare speculate what it all means, but I think we might be the ancient progenitors in question. Fair enough. If this is what’s found by whatever species is next dominant on this planet — I hope they do better at it than humans have — we could do far worse for representation.

Black Sky Giant on Facebook

Black Sky Giant on Bandcamp

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Edena Gardens, “Veil” video premiere

[Click play above to stream the premiere of Edena Gardens’ video for “Veil.” Their new album, Agar, is out April 7 on El Paraiso Records.]

Two albums in a year’s time is a pretty quick turnaround anyhow, but Edena Gardens released their self-titled debut (review here) in late October, and Agar — the instrumental trio’s follow-up, released like its predecessor on El Paraiso — will be out less than six months later. Without knowing the recording circumstances of one and the other, it’s hard to gauge whether the returning three-piece of baritone/bass guitarist Martin Rude, drummer Jakob Skøtt and guitarist Nicklas Sørensen are actually creating that fast or if one or the other record was in the can, either the debut’s release delayed and the second album written in the interim, or the two recorded at the same time and edited into multiple sessions à la Big Scenic Nowhere, but one way or the other, Agar‘s arrival-on-heels delivers plainly the message that despite the fact that Rude and Skøtt are members of Causa Sui and related projects like London Odense Ensemble and Sørensen is accounted for in fellow Danish explorationists Papir, Edena Gardens is going to be a real band.

It was the biggest question coming out of Edena Gardens, and the answer feels all the more declarative for the short break between that and the eight songs and 46 minutes (the first was seven/41) offered in Agar, even as the material itself seems to move forward and ponder who and what Edena Gardens are going to be as a band. The answer this time is complex, whether it’s the seven-minute opener “Forst” (in English: ‘first’), which mindfully stumbles in on a drum fill and in medias res-feeling strums, taking all of six seconds — no less crucial for their brevity in setting an atmosphere of improvisation-in-the-room; a subliminally functioning ambience that reminds of communication studies in how it tells the audience where they are — to get its footing before jamming out like the day in 1994 when all the kids who had been playing grunge unanimously voted to invite Neil Young to the party, or side B counterpart “Halcyon Days,” which runs just 1:31 and is hardly more than a snippet but expressive and memorable in its floating guitar lead over Rude‘s baritone rhythm, an escapist drone filling out behind, cymbals maybe there but so gentle they’re practically static I can’t be sure if I’m imagining them or not. And I don’t just mean it’s a complex answer; ‘complex’ is who they’re going to be.

Fair enough as they shift from the lightly jazz-improv vibe that caps “Forst” into the shorter “Sombra Del Mar” with its wistful swells of floating guitar and deceptively lighthearted bounce, a contemplative meander out for one walk rhythmically and another melodically and meeting up in the echoing resonance, smoothing out for a time and then splitting off again as the drums crash with time-to-go finality at 3:42 only to keep going for a while longer behind the serene drone guitar, complementing in a way that feels organically off the cuff. Closing side A is Agar‘s longest track, the  12:31 “Veil” (premiering above), which starts with foreboding drums and near-Western swagger of strum in its first minute-plus, Rude and Skøtt reminding a bit of Earth (plus keys) before Sørensen‘s forward higher frequencies stretch out over top.

“Veil” wants to roll, and so it does as it cycles through, Sørensen diving into a more decisive ‘lead’ around three and half minutes in as they build subtly amid hypnotic repetition, the part gradually changing in the midsection — I’m not sure if that’s bass or baritone guitar, but if you’ve got headphones you can hear the strings vibrate — to emerge circa the seven-minute mark in a place adjacent to but different from where it started, still riding that initial groove. At 8:38, Skøtt turns to the ride cymbal and that seems to signal a pickup in energy for all three as “Veil” winds toward a crescendo of reshaping, finding a way toward heavy rock solo-topped nod without giving up the peaceful vibe in service to volume without reason, with a crash and burst of amp noise as if to say, “sorry this jam has exploded, please try another.” So it goes with a band brave enough to be honest about who they are as players and creators. Sometimes a thing just needs to end, and the sense that “Veil” was edited to finish like that is part of Edena Gardens‘ aesthetic; the studio itself becoming another instrument in the realization of the songs.

The aforementioned and duly sentimental “Halcyon Days” follows to softly launch a procession of shorter pieces en route to the near-10-minute “Crescent Helix” at Agar‘s conclusion. “Dreich” follows “Halcyon Days” with a willful-feeling contrast in purpose, starting wholly exploratory with cymbal wash and melodic swell before working into a more grounded movement of subdued baritone and (regular ol’) guitar, doppler keyboard or synth or guitar effects or whatever that is going by at steady intervals as the trio figure out the direction in real-time, Skøtt again telling all when to bring it down. Toms, keys and especially floating, noodling guitar unfurl themselves across the two minutes of “Ascender,” some backwards soloing tucked away near the end but still leaving room for residual echoes to fade; an inhale, perhaps, before the deeper dive into the penultimate “Montezuma” and “Crescent Helix.”

In its underlying low-frequency strum, loose ’90s nostalgia and aspects of drone rock, “Montezuma” feels like kin to “Veil” and even “Halcyon Days,” and comes across somewhat as a combination of the two, while its central movement feels built off Chris Isaak‘s “Wicked Game” and is topped by a more sweeping solo. Edena Gardens aren’t so hook-minded, necessarily, but Agar has a number of standout moments and Sørensen crafts another as the record makes its way into its last section, a long note held at 4:25 like a howl before cycling through again to end “Montezuma” in appropriately thoughtful fashion before “Crescent Helix” announces its arrival with an immediate reorientation of focus on free jazz that feels like an extension almost of the setting-forth that began “Forst.”

Clocking in at 9:55, “Crescent Helix” has room to spread out, and is lush without being overbaked as it constructs and explores the space in which it resides, never quite completely giving up the bent-note skronk of its introduction even as it draws the multiple sides of Edena Gardens‘ approach together, fluidly jamming from the relative cacophony into a midpoint cymbal wash that’s ’70s sentimental in the guitar beneath creating an oddball languid motion, a melting of images still being drawn. The drums transition into more active toms before about 7:30, and Rude and Sørensen follow shortly thereafter, the whole band almost reluctantly hitting an apex before a gently winding final few measures close, a bit of hum and last cymbal taps end, either a tom thud or pedal clicking off calling back once more to the natural spirit in which Agar commenced, or, at very least, keeping in tune with the theme.

Where the self-titled was more tentative in its personality, Agar comes across sure-footed in the forward progressive steps it finds Edena Gardens taking. And while it signals clearly (with a universe of infinite possibilities as a caveat) that they’re going to keep the project going, it also asks more questions about what their ultimate stylistic reach is going to be. Agar rests well alongside some of El Paraiso‘s more psych-jazz offerings, but it’s not just that and it’s not just rock and roll either, and that’s part of what makes it exciting to hear, since by avoiding the trap of one thing or another, Edena Gardens invariably become themselves. To what it will lead, and when, are intriguing thoughts, but in just a matter of months, Edena Gardens have traced a path that is thoroughly their own and begun to survey the surroundings. One hopes that, if and when they continue with studio work, they can keep the sincerity that is so much a part of Agar along with the expanding scope at the core of their methods.

Edena Gardens, “Sombra Del Mar” official video

Edena Gardens on Facebook

Edena Gardens on Instagram

El Paraiso Records on Instagram

El Paraiso Records on Facebook

El Paraiso Records

Denmark’s Altar of Oblivion have signed with From the Vaults and will release their new EP, Burning Memories, this summer, with the full-length Proselytes of the Apocalypse coming at some point thereafter. The doomly purveyors were last heard from studio-wise with 2019’s The Seven Spirits (review here), which was their third LP overall and first in seven years since 2012’s Grand Gesture of Defiance (review here), though last year they put up the Live at Godset 2017 live record as well. The upcoming short release and long-player have apparently been in the can for a while, as the band informs they were tracked before the viral shitstorm that began in 2020, which if you’ve been keeping up — and bless you if you haven’t; I’m jealous — was three years ago. Therapy for everyone!

Alas, more likely not. At least not in the US. In Denmark I bet telehealth is free.

Still, doom will help as only doom can. The Seven Spirits is streaming below if you’d like a refresher on where Altar of Oblivion are coming from. I’ll hope to have more on the releases as we get closer to, uh, the releases, but here’s this off the PR wire for now:

ALTAR OF OBLIVION sign to From The Vaults

From The Vaults is proud to announce the signing of epic doom/heavy metal band ALTAR OF OBLIVION. The Aarhus six-piece, who successfully released three full-length albums and four EPs since their inception in 2006, has been one of the most convincing acts in the traditional doom/heavy metal Danish scene and is now ready for a new chapter in their careers. The first Altar Of Oblivion battle under the From The Vaults banner will be a mini-album to be released this year.

“We just signed a record deal with Danish label From the Vaults, which will put out a five-track EP named “Burning Memories” in the summer of 2023, followed by our fourth full-length album “Proselytes of the Apocalypse””, the band states. “Both sonic endeavors were recorded prior to the pandemic, and we can’t wait to have them unleashed upon old fans as well as new”.

Altar of Oblivion is an epic doom / heavy metal band from Aalborg, Denmark highly in the vein of the 80s style. Since their formation in the year 2006 (from the ashes of Summoning Sickness), they have released three full-length albums and four EPs, all very well regarded in the most traditional epic heavy/doom metal genre.

Now, in 2023, the sextet is preparing a brand new mini-album to be released this year.

Altar Of Oblivion is:
Mik Mentor – vocals
Martin Meyer Sparvath – guitar
Jeppe Campradt – guitar
C. Nørgaard – bass
Danny Woe – drums
Jannick Nielsen – keyboards

https://www.facebook.com/altarofoblivion
https://www.instagram.com/altarofoblivion/
https://open.spotify.com/artist/2YbeTJvoU9a8Hd1slqzQWK
http://altarofoblivion.dk/

https://www.facebook.com/FromTheVaultsRecords
https://www.instagram.com/from.the.vaults/
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/783kHeWGIDXXqlHRvrkvj1?si=8fa87d088d72498c
https://fromthevaults.dk/
https://targetshop.dk/

Altar of Oblivion, The Seven Spirits (2019)

El Paraiso Records posted the above image the other day on the ol’ social medias, and heck if it wasn’t an effective teaser. Sure, any El Paraiso release is going to be something at the very least worth checking out — and that is a layer of anticipation inherently — but those rich tones of the cover art, add intrigue as well.

A couple days later, the news is good as Edena Gardens — the Danish instrumental three-piece comprised of Jakob Skøtt and Martin Rude of Causa Sui and Nicklas Sørensen of Papir — unveil a video for the new song “Sombra Del Mar” and announce that their second full-length, Agar, will be released April 7 on El Paraiso. Oh, and there’s a live album coming too, as if to get the “hey we’re an actual band” point across that much clearer.

I don’t think anyone would’ve been surprised or even held it against them if it was a while before they followed up last year’s stunning self-titled debut (review here), but you won’t hear me complain about the quick turnaround either. “Sombra Del Mar” is a dream, perhaps given to some of the stoner folk vibes discussed in the announcement copy below but sweetly melodic and boasting some fascinating intricacy between the guitar and lower end (may be baritone guitar, I don’t know) progression. Easy vibe to get into, and I have a hard time imagining you won’t if you do.

So hey, here’s something awesome that I didn’t know existed yesterday. And I’m glad they turned out to be a real band — their record was pretty well received, which is always nice — and are doing cool stuff like playing Esbjerg Fuzztival in May and putting out new albums. That’s pretty right on.

Enjoy:

Edena Gardens, “Sombra Del Mar” official video

First single off their 2nd album, Agar, out on El Paraiso Records April 7th, 2023.

On their 2nd album, Edena Gardens manifests itself as a permanent fixture in the El Paraiso catalogue.

Edena Gardens could have flickered and disappeared in true El Paraiso fashion with a single session album, but the trio emerges with both a new studio album as well as a live album (Live Momentum). It’s part of the band’s DNA: it contains multitudes. There’s always a variation or open path, shifting with ease from heady cosmic stoner folk-vibes, to the scorched earth of 12-minute centrepiece The Veil. Halcyon Days opens up a panoramic interlude of beautiful analogue warmth, while closer Crescent Helix opens in full free-jazz mode, only to travel into an endless crescendo of alt. rock proportions rarely found on this side of the 90’s.

Somehow, Edena Gardens combines the sum of its multifaceted parts in a unified way, Perhaps due to Causa Sui drummer Jakob Skøtt’s transparent edits and layered treatments. Or perhaps the trio’s level of experience and joy of playing simply connects whatever direction they pursue – Nicklas Sørensen of Papir’s glistering guitar lines, backed up by Martin Rude’s rumbling Baritone guitar strums or solid basslines. It’s an album that showcases not only the spontaneous paths taken but also the vast well of ideas or sounds only implied or briefly touched upon, creating an aggregation of sounds just out of reach.

Welcome back to Edena Gardens.

Edena Gardens on Facebook

Edena Gardens on Instagram

El Paraiso Records on Instagram

El Paraiso Records on Facebook

El Paraiso Records

Danish post-metallers Late Night Venture will release their fifth long-player, V: Bones of the Extinct, on March 17 through Trepanation Recordings and Vinyltroll Records. The five-piece were last heard from with 2019’s Subcosmos, which completed a space-themed trilogy of albums, and it would seem that their return to earth has put them in a position of finding it wanting. To be fair, it has not been the planet’s best few years. Even before you get to the plague, it’s becoming easier every oddly-weathered day to believe we’re living through a climate apocalypse, and with jarring statistics about ecosystem collapse, a lack of moral or political will to do anything about it, and the cruelty inherent in the wealthy nations of the Global North telling the Global South essentially to eat (the North’s) shit, and then you have populism and social movements toward isolation and a closing of doors it once seemed so obvious needed to be open. “Hostile Nature” (premiering below) touches on some of these ideas, and it opens V: Bones of the Extinct with a blend of contemplative sadness and omnidirectional rage that, well, yes. You would be reasonable to call it a fit for the times.

The five-piece of guitarists Michael Falk (also vocals) and Søren Hartvig, bassist Jens Back, keyboardist/synthesist Jonas Qvesel and drummer Peter Falk make their sound all the more consuming for the incorporation of synth, as one can hear in the post-apocalyptic landscape survey in the midsection of the album opener and the swirls that top the inevitable return of the full volume onslaught. There’s some of Amenra‘s melancholy and an abidingly severe emotional mien that reminds of The Moth Gatherer and others who came up in the wake of Isis (Late Night Venture got their start in the mid-aughts), but the chug that caps “Hostile Nature” makes it plain that the intensity of V: Bones of the Extinct is a purposeful choice in direction, and as “Mammut” arrives with largesse enough to warrant the title, embodying the band’s stated move toward heavier, more crushing fare.

Shorter than the leadoff, “Mammut” has its own break/return, with a guitar solo twisting over the heavy finish, stainless despite all the dust and rust surrounding. It gives over to “Reappear” at the end of side A with a quieter rollout and some clean vocals from Falk, who will continue to showcase more than the barks that typified the first two tracks, and a tense but subdued build, coming slowly to its eventual payoff at 3:23 into the total 5:55, the full wash slow moving in the drums and melancholy in the guitars like the heavy post-rock of Red Sparowes, but darker and with an eventual return of vocals in the crash, a softer ending not quite mirroring the outset but bookending nonetheless.

At 8:10, the side B opener “Hate Speech” is the longest inclusion on the album — both sides start with their respective longest tracks; an effective play for listener immersion — and is quickly engaged in a tense chug offset by lead lines and punctuated with thud and crash alike, the at-first-absent synth/keys gets its moment as part of a wash that builds, recedes, then falls into a tense cinematic drone before slamming back into the initial chug at 5:35, the verse returning.

That tension never completely releases — nor should it, considering the apparent subject matter — but “Hate Speech” has its payoff moment and fades into quiet ahead of the synthier “Armed Warrior,” a semi-spoken verse over horror chug and keyboard, then just keyboard and guitar, floating away, coming back of its own accord, the structure familiar by this time but executed with a particularly open, canyon-esque echo before a few measures of that original chug finish out, the song about as barebones as Late Night Venture get here and efficient at less than four and a half minutes. This leaves “Prognosis Negative” to summarize the point of view of V: Bones of the Extinct, which it does even before the full-volume lumbering kicks in and the consuming nod of the verse, more extreme in the vocals with keyboard flourish as a subsequent counterpoint, takes hold.

Back‘s bass gets a standout moment in the quieter stretch, seeming to lead while the guitars explore the atmosphere surrounding, and though it’s never a question that they’re coming back for a last blowout surge of energy, getting there is satisfying as Falk‘s voice and the dense tones work to complement each other until that last roll begins in earnest. Even in the ‘big finish,’ there’s an air of post-rocking contemplation, a patience of delivery that lets the listener know Late Night Venture, if they so chose, could easily let their material spill over into chaos, but as one would expect and hope given their maturity as an outfit, they don’t.

Expressive drive is maintained even when marching into oblivion, which, when they get there, turns out to be not so bad after all. There is more persona on display throughout V: Bones of the Extinct than mourning for a better world that might’ve been, and the precision that underlies the weight of their tradeoffs in actual sound and mood alike is not to be glossed over. Their reach is as broad as the ending of “Prognosis Negative” is dire, and if the abiding message of the collection is that we as humans did it to ourselves, to each other, then the only question left to ask if perhaps we aren’t the bones referred to in the title.

The “Hostile Nature” video premieres below, followed by some more comment from the band and info on the album.

Please enjoy:

Late Night Venture, “Hostile Nature” video premiere

Michael Falk on “Hostile Nature”:

“I guess we’re trying to say something about human nature’s encounter with the elements. About how we are trying to convince ourselves that we can tame the forces of nature with ideas. But it seems that neither mankind nor the planet will respect any warnings. Reality is overshadowed by concepts.”

Out March 17 2023 on Trepanation Recordings / Vinyltroll Records

LATE NIGHT VENTURE was formed in 2006 and released its eponymous debut album the same year. In 2012, the band commenced on its ‘cosmic trilogy’ with the sophomore album ‘Pioneers of Spaceflight’, followed by ‘Tychonians’ in 2015 and completed with ‘Subcosmos’ in 2019. Along the way, LATE NIGHT VENTURE has refined its post-metallic sound rounded off by the band’s poetic, Scandinavian clinging expression while playing more than 400 shows all over Europe.

While creating ‘V: Bones Of The Extinct’, LATE NIGHT VENTURE deliberately labored towards making the music more direct than before. This approach has resulted in six sharply cut compositions, where the post rock elements are downplayed and songwriting and riffs are the focal points. The band’s vivid and gritty aesthetics are intact and as always the band recorded the music live. As a whole, the album presents itself as the band’s most heavy, angry and focused work to date.

‘Bones Of The Extinct’ is a text excerpt establishing a framework for the album and its songs, which individually are images of unforeseen occurrences with irreversible consequences. The lyrics cast their gaze upon the world and can be characterized as grounded doomsday stories about conditions, which more or less concern all beings on the planet. This gaze is directed towards mankind and its nature, all our efforts in this world – and the consequences of our urge. ‘Bones Of The Extinct’ is an image of us watching the bones of ourselves; watching the consequences of our emotions, words and actions. One day, our history will lay scattered as the bones of the extinct – not least, if we remain on the current path determined by the greedy, prideful and vain.

‘V: Bones Of The Extinct’ is produced by Patrick Fragtrup in Sweet Silence Studios (Metallica, Morbid Angel, Mew), mastered by Brad Boatright in Audiosiege and carries artwork by Morten Grønnegaard.

LATE NIGHT VENTURE – V: Bones Of The Extinct
Track list:
1. Hostile Nature
2. Mammut
3. Reappear
4. Hate Speech
5. Armed Warrior
6. Prognosis Negative

LATE NIGHT VENTURE will play four March dates alongside fellow Danes sludge metal trio Dirt Forge and post hardcore-combo Kollaps\e, including shows in Denmark, Norway and Germany.

LATE NIGHT VENTURE Live 2023:
22.03.23 – Vaterland, Oslo (NO)
23.03.23 – 1000Fryd, Aalborg (DK)
24.03.23 – Frølageret, Odense (DK)
25.03.23 – Tommy-Weisbecker-Haus, Berlin (DE)

Music: Late Night Venture
Lyrics: Michael Falk & Jonas Qvesel
Producer: Patrick Fragtrup / Wolf Rider Sound Production & Late Night Venture
Mix: Patrick Fragtrup / Wolf Rider Sound Production
Mastering: Brad Boatright / Audiosiege
Artwork: Morten Grønnegaard

Late Night Venture is:
Michael Falk: Guitar & Vocals
Jonas Qvesel: Synth & Keys
Peter Falk: Drums
Søren Hartvig: Guitar
Jens Back: Bass

Late Night Venture on Facebook

Late Night Venture on Instagram

Late Night Venture on Bandcamp

Late Night Venture website

Trepanation Recordings on Facebook

Trepanation Recordings on Instagram

Trepanation Recordings on Bandcamp

Vinyltroll Records on Facebook

Vinyltroll Records on Instagram

Vinyltroll Records website

This is a good way to spend a couple of nights in Denmark. Hot damn. I missed I think, wait, let me check, yes, all of the batch announcements for Esbjerg Fuzztival 2023 due, I assume, to the whims of the algorithm, but when it finally occurred to me to check in on the fest precisely because I hadn’t seen anything about it, well, there was the full damn lineup waiting for me.

And it’s looking sharp, as well. There isn’t one band on this bill I wouldn’t want to see, from Nebula and Greenleaf to Slowjoint and Vestjysk Ørken. Not a clunker in the bunch. And hell, I’ve never seen Clouds Taste Satanic and they’re from New York, so catching them in Denmark would be a hell of a way to see them for a first time. And Ecstatic Vision, High Desert Queen, Edena Gardens, Kryptograf, getting to check Causa Sui off my all-time must-see list? Yeah. Sounds fucking amazing, actually. Throw in Kanaan, Valley of the Sun and oh, say, Deathchant, and you’ve got yourself a deal. I’m not trying to be glib when I say this, but it looks like a lovely time.

I pieced the below together out of the aforementioned posts I missed, so if it reads clunky or they come off as excessively proud, perhaps, that’s why. Here you go:

Complete lineup for Fuzztival ’23!

Who are you most excited to see this year!?

Get your tickets in now!

Fuzztival are PROUD to announce our Friday night headliner NEBULA, bringing the desert to Denmark! ECSTATIC VISION, VALLEY of THE SUN and KRYPTOGRAF will be joining! And as always the Fuzztival house band VESTJYSK ØRKEN will be opening the festival for the 6th consecutive time!

We are PROUD to present another round of bands! Adding KANAAN as well as EDENA GARDENS (feat. members of Causa Sui & Papir) and CLOUDS TASTE SATANIC to Fuzztival 23!

We are proud to be adding the OG desert Rockers FATSO JETSON alongside DEATHCHANT and HIGH DESERT QUEEN! The riffs will be plenty and scorching hot! SLOWJOINT will be returning to Fuzztival with a special surprise set!

The almighty riff machine GREENLEAF will be headlining Saturday at Fuzztival ’23! Closing the fest with a shake and a bang so bring your dancing shoes!

Last but not least we are PROUD to welcome back the KINGS of Heavy Psych CAUSA SUI to Fuzztival ’23!

This wraps up the bands announced for this year! Final call to save some dough for more Fuzz Ales!

https://www.facebook.com/esbjergfuzztival/
https://www.instagram.com/esbjerg_fuzztival/
https://www.fuzztival.com/

Valley of the Sun, “Devil I’ve Become” official video

[Click play above to stream the self-titled debut from Edena Gardens. Album is out Oct. 28 via El Paraiso Records with preorders here.]

The meeting of vibes taking place throughout Edena Gardens‘ self-titled debut is not entirely unexpected, and it’s in keeping with the Causa Sui/El Paraiso Records psych-as-jazz-and-also-sometimes-psych-jazz ethos that, like collaborating soloists, Martin Rude and Jakob Skøtt of the venerable Danish explorers should unite with guitarist Nicklas Sørensen of established countrymen post-jammers Papir for an album that harnesses strengths from all of them. With Skøtt on drums and Rude swapping between bass and guitar, and Sørensen stepping into a kind of featured role, Edena Gardens offer mellow-psych immersion throughout the entirely-instrumental 44 minutes of their self-titled debut — on El Paraiso, naturally — echoing through synth-laced cosmic pastoralia on “Now Here Nowhere” and, crucially, seeming to find its way as it goes, with cymbal wash and guitars waking at the outset of 10-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Aether,” which marks out the fluidity with which the proceedings will play out.

Rude, on guitar or bass, is the unifying factor in bringing together Sørensen‘s guitar and Skøtt‘s guitar, and while it’s a jazz-born ethic, one might also recognize it from a near-infinite number of rock power trios, including to some extent Papir, so the argument might be made for some carryover on Sørensen‘s part there, but the thunder-rumble under “Aether” as it comes gradually to life is the rhythmic center around which the song takes shape, a light lumber with a correspondingly light warning of the tonal heft that may or may not follow.

It does, at least a little, but it doesn’t really have to. And that’s not a complaint in the slightest. These seven songs find Edena Gardens willfully embracing the tenets of heavy psychedelia, whether it’s the gathering-consciousness-for-exhale taking place in “Aether” or the immediately more active “Sliding Under” picking up from that extended leadoff with what sounds like Yawning Man-style pedal steel or slide; dreams cast in intertwining lines of guitar, hear-every-string strums and a soft, ethereal, jammy roll.

The song might be titled after its ending fadeout, in which indeed the guitar and drums slide under a line of synth to finish and give way to “The Canopy,” which follows the guitar’s deceptively plotted course — that is to say, just because the listener doesn’t yet know where Sørensen is headed doesn’t mean he doesn’t know either — sweet detailing of synth/effects and quiet drums behind, maybe some chime percussion? It’s hard to know what’s real and what’s imaginary after a while, but the drift factor in “The Canopy” is a righteousness unto itself, finishing with a brief moment of drone that is like a reveal for what’s been filling the song out all the while.

So much flow. And whether or not you can go with it is going to determine basically the entirety of the impression Edena Gardens is making, but it’s hardly an effort to follow Rude, Skøtt and Sørensen through these pieces that make up the whole of the album. “The Canopy” wraps side A with the exact opposite of a feeling of ceremony, as if just to quietly note the passing of time, the fleeting nature of even the universe itself, let alone anything to temporary as art, music, humanity, and so on. One of just two songs under four minutes long — the other is the penultimate “Iod” — it leads to the centerpiece/side B opener “Hidebound,” which pushes the synth forward in cyclical washes alongside a steady progression of guitar and drums, the spirit more cool-river than molten-ooze, with a rise in volume serving as a perfunctory crescendo as that synth line runs by again for the comedown.

This they follow with the aforementioned “Now Here Nowhere,” putting Skøtt‘s drums along with the synth and Rude‘s bass out there on the quick with Sørensen joining a moment later, a perfectly executed, smoothly realized methodological swap that puts the listener in a different place almost without realizing it. All they had to do was change up who starts playing and where the drums are in the mix, and it works to give a different vibe, more like some lost Hendrix studio track, readily meandering blues licks and tripped-out effects for aural detailing coinciding with a progression that, I’m not sure it’s right to call it straightforward, but perhaps on a relative level.

“Now Here Nowhere” pays off the light warning of “Aether” in its apex, and prefaces the rock aspects in the finale to come, with the droner “Iod” ensuring breath and breadth alike, the ambience so much a factor in what Edena Gardens have been able to conjure in this material. Even in what’s essentially an interlude on a completely instrumental record, the band manage to offer headphone-worthy depth and mood, and though it’s over quick, the open spirit plays well into “An T-Eilean Dubh” (say “anti-alien dub,” which I guess/hope means they’re worried about invaders from outer space), with a far-away-at-first rush on the drums and a central figure of guitar that feels specifically like homage to Colour Haze in its movement.

That also, not a complaint. With Rude‘s bass underscoring the tom work from Skøtt and Sørensen‘s solidified but still laid back lead lines, the volume swells subtly as the closer moves through its 6:51, seeming to come to a head near its halfway point but saving its standout moment for the improvised-sounding dawn-of-enlightenment solo that rounds out before the entirety comes apart and the record ends in duly understated fashion.

I will not pretend to know what will become of Edena Gardens, if it will be an ongoing collab between Sørensen, Skøtt and Rude or if it’s a one-off happening, but it’s hard to listen to the songs on Edena Gardens and not appreciate the fact that somebody in the studio that day hit ‘record.’ The tracks have obviously been edited with the fadeouts and so on, but they’d have to be to accommodate format, the mix becomes part of the art, and accordingly, the album feels like glimpses of and short visits to another world, where at least today it’s sunny and warm if not all the time.

The potential for expansion on what they do here is likewise planetary in scale, but the sweetness of Edena Gardens is something essential and organic that arises from the music, and toward whatever reaches they might ultimately adventure (or not), there will only ever be one first time out. This is it, and they make the most of the occasion.

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