Posted in Questionnaire on July 4th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Jex Blackmore from Love Interest
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I am a musician, artist, and activist. I came to do all of these things because I am enraged at the condition of the world and need to channel those feelings in productive ways or risk losing myself completely.
Describe your first musical memory.
My dad used to play piano with me strapped to him as a baby and would later play to me as I crawled around in my toddler years. I still remember this.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Cocksparrer at the Wonderland Ballroom in Revere, MA; complete chaos and the biggest and most violent sing-a-long I’ve ever witnessed.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I’ve lost a lot of friends to drug use. I believe everyone has the right to decide what they do with their life, but when loved one after loved one started dying, I found myself having to reevaluate this. Ultimately, I had to accept that everyone gets to make their own decisions, even if those decisions are not what I would want for them, and that’s ok.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Self-awareness.
How do you define success?
I hate the concept of “success” because the only thing it seems to represent is a measure of how well someone has performed a task to the standard of normative society. I don’t want to define success. I don’t want to think about success. I just want to exist and feel good about it.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
I saw Captain Sensible fall off the stage during a Damned set and get carried out of the venue by an EMT. That was sad. He was ok in the end.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
A full-length Love Interest album.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Art allows us to communicate with the world in ways that aren’t always possible with words or actions. It bridges the gap between the individual and the universal. We need an abstract language to express abstract ideas and that is one of the most essential roles of art.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I’m looking forward to growing Hydra-Fund, a mutual aid abortion fund in Detroit.
Posted in Questionnaire on March 29th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Noah Bruner, Taylor Christian and Joe Peet of Temple of the Fuzz Witch
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
Taylor: It’s hard for me to define what I do because really, I just see myself as a guy who beats on shit and calls it music. I was introduced to drumming at a young age, by my dad actually who showed me rock and metal music at such a young age, and it’s something I’ve always been able to go to as therapy and making myself feel as if I have a purpose.
Noah: It’s really just a form of mostly negative expression. Spewing the hatred. It’s kind of a release in a form at times.
Describe your first musical memory.
Joe: My first musical memory comes from my mom. I used to be a real shithead to get ready in the morning so to coax me out and get me motivated she’d put on music. I grew up in Indy so the big station for us was X103.3. Listening to stuff like Alice in Chains before being dropped off for grade school is something I really look back on fondly.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Taylor: In terms of being at a show, being smashed up against the barrier in front of Jus Oborn of Electric Wizard yelling the end of “Funeralopolis” right into my face. Absolute mind melting moment; couldn’t hear a thing for a good few days.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Joe: I was fortunate to be from a family that was pretty open minded when it comes to religion. I was never explicitly forced to go to church on Sunday. But my parents were really open to me investigating religion and seeing where, if anywhere, I felt like I could belong. So I tried out the youth group thing for a bit in high school, and honestly the peer pressure there was worse than any party or show I went to. Just the sheer amount of judgement really put me off and caused me to drop it pretty quick. I think my parents’ openness really paved the way for me to do what I do, and I’m really thankful for it.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Noah: Sometimes you can tap into something you can get to “that place.” It’s pretty much just chasing it.
How do you define success?
Noah: Well there’s success on many levels. Anything from having a good guitar take in the recording process. On a bigger scale, releasing an album or playing a really good show.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Noah: Too many things, but those things make me what I am today. I take pride in it in a morbid way.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
Joe: I’m a huge nerd, and a big sucker for concept albums. Outside of music I’m a writer, and I really want to create an album that ticks all the boxes that a good story does.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Joe: Again, cliché, but I think it’s an agent of change. The artist creates something that’s pulled from inside of them, then it’s taken in by the audience and starts making internal changes.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Taylor: Seeing where life takes me. Life is a hell of a journey and I’ve got a long way to go with so many stones yet to be turned.
[Click play above to stream Giant Brain’s new single “Fore: (Rage at the Cruelty of Forced Transhumanism).” Grade A Gray Day is out March 10 on Small Stone Records and Kozmik Artifactz.]
It is a difficult album to separate from the context in which it’s been made. Grade A Gray Day is the first offering from Detroit kosmiche rockers Giant Brain in some 14 years since 2009’s Thorn of Thrones (review here), and it arrives four years after the Jan. 2019 death of guitarist Phil Dürr, also known for his work in Big Chief, Luder, Five Horse Johnson and others. Dürr was reportedly in progress playing bass and guitar on what’s the third Giant Brain full-length — the first was 2007’s Plume, also on Small Stone — along with the brotherly rhythm section of bassist Andy Sutton (also vocals) and keyboardist/programmer Al Sutton, both of whom also produced at Rustbelt Studios in Detroit, as well as drummer/keyboardist Eric Hoegemeyer, at the time of his passing, and it is in tribute to his legacy in his home city and to him as an individual that Grade A Gray Day was completed, its six mostly-instrumental tracks holding together variously proggy and cosmic threads across an inevitably varied 41 minutes. There is a narrative thread hinted at in the titles of the songs:
1. Munich
2. Terminator: (Where an Astronaut Dies in Space)
3. The Variac: (His Consciousness Reawakens)
4. Fore: (Rage at the Cruelty of Forced Transhumanism)
5. Systems Failure: (Uprising, Destruction, and the Escape)
6. Between Trains
…and that it is as much spirit as space is appropriate for the music actually contained on the album, which is rife with guest appearances from the likes of Dürr‘s Luder bandmates Sue Lott (also of Slot, Big Chief, etc.), who sings on the meditative and melancholy closer “Between Trains” and Scott Hamilton, who adds guitar to “Systems Failure: (Uprising, Destruction and the Escape) and is the head of Small Stone Records, as well as a slew of others. Even the cover art by Mark Dancey feels like a thoughtful choice considering Dancey used to be in Big Chief. Kenny Tudrick of The Detroit Cobras plays piano on “Between Trains,” Billy Reedy of Novadriver and Walk on Water plays guitar on “Terminator: (Where an Astronaut Dies in Space),” Detroit Symphony bassist James Simonson (also Joanne Shaw Taylor) plays on “Terminator: (Where an Astronaut Dies in Space),” Bob Ebeling of Walk on Water, Five Horse Johnson and Kid Rock handles wine glasses on “The Variac: (His Consciousness Reawakens)” and drums on “Systems Failure: (Uprising, Destruction and the Escape),” Darrel Eubank adds vocals to “The Variac: (His Consciousness Reawakens)” and British Blues Award-winning guitarist Joanne Shaw Taylor sits in on “Munich” and “Fore: (Rage at the Cruelty of Forced Transhumanism),” starting each side of Grade A Gray Day with particularly righteous uptempo krautrock-meets-boogie shuffle.
On at least a couple levels, that’s pretty much the story of Grade A Gray Day. The remaining members of the band — the Suttons and Hoegemeyer — joining forces with a slew of others to flesh out what were Dürr‘s concepts and starting foundations for a third Giant Brain record. Invariably, the end result here can’t match what was the original intent — because the original intent was that Dürr would finish the album with his bandmates — but from the most basic level of its making to the likely logistical nightmare of recording all these players to the simple fact that there are so many involved, Grade A Gray Day absolutely bleeds its homage to Dürr.
More even than it’s an album, it is a love letter to Dürr as a player and a human being from his bandmates, friends and loved ones, and if you can get your head around the songs — personally, I’m still trying to figure out the colon-into-parenthetical happening in the middle four song titles, let alone the actual music, the effort you put into listen is duly rewarded. The manner in which “Munich” and “Terminator: (Where an Astronaut Dies in Space)” bop along like cosmic prog and ’70s swing have always secretly been the same thing, the weirdo repeats of “Terminator terminator” looped through that second cut a rare human voice in the outbound instrumental launch that gives over to float and laughter — presumably Dürr‘s — on the cinematic “The Variac: (His Consciousness Reawakens),” capping side A, these are rich culminations and brazen turns from one to the next, and within themselves, but it’s that love at their foundation that draws them together.
Next time you’re in need of a definition of “skronk,” the riff twisting itself around “Fore: (Rage at the Cruelty of Forced Transhumanism)” should serve nicely. Spaced out in shove early and in drift (and then shove again) later, it’s a quick summary of the stylistic blend that Giant Brain — especially considering the swath of personnel involved — make seamless while staying almost entirely pretense-free in the doing. The first couple minutes of “Systems Failure: (Uprising, Destruction, and the Escape)” are set to the backdrop of noise almost like peeping frogs, but just before 2:20, it bursts into life with a keyboard-inclusive fluidity before turning to a bigger rolling riff (presumably ‘Destruction’) and finds its freedom in shred at the finish, a six-minute jaunt through an interstellar badlands of microgenres that’s only easy to follow because your brain is already jelly.
Its ending leaves “Between Trains” with the daunting task of saying goodbye, to Dürr as well as to this album in his honor. Lott delivers a highlight performance from among the many, emotive but subdued over the ambient drones, a ticking clock that fades out, and a wash that rises and recedes into residual guitar, a last gasp of amplifier hum like they don’t want to let go. Fair. Dürr must have been a pretty special person to earn this kind of celebration of his life and creativity. Grade A Gray Day is as sincere in its realization as it possibly could be, and for that, likewise beautiful, sad, loving and — despite all its space prog psych experimentalism, all its far-far-out sounds and antigravity twists — quintessentially human.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 16th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The opening cut and advance single from Giant Brain‘s upcoming album, Grade A Gray Day, announces itself with a strum of guitar, then disappears momentarily, as though, having bid welcome, it’s then receding into the jammy krautrock ether where it will subsequently reside. The band’s founding guitarist Phil Dürr passed away in 2019, and Small Stone Records, whose Scott Hamilton (who was also in Luder with Dürr) also appears on the record, stands behind the offering as a tribute from the band (and more) to Dürr’s creative spirit, his work in Big Chief on addition to Giant Brain, and his presence as a figure in the Detroit heavy underground.
No, it’s not gonna be 2023’s most hyped release. It’s an instrumental amalgam of kosmiche and heavy psychedelic pieces, thoroughly dug in and hypnotic, likewise on brand and off trend in its craft and somewhat familial in its sundry guest appearances. Still, Small Stone and Kozmik Artifactz offer it as the final studio output from Dürr, and if the mission is to highlight the vibrancy of his playing in this band and honor a friend, then I’ll say as someone who has listened to it that that mission is likewise honorable and successful.
March 10 is the release date. “Munich” is streaming at the bottom of this post, and preorders are up now, as per the PR wire:
GIANT BRAIN To Release Grade A Gray Day Full-Length In Tribute To Late Guitarist Phil Dürr; Record To See Release March 10th Via Small Stone Recordings/Kozmik Artifactz + New Track Streaming
Experimental electro-prog project GIANT BRAIN will release their Grade A Gray Day full-length on March 10th via Small Stone Recordings and Kozmik Artifactz. The mind-bending offering serves as a final studio tribute to the memory of late guitarist Phil Dürr.
On January 11th, 2019, Dürr returned to the great mothership in the sky, days after suffering a cardiac arrest while in Germany visiting relatives. Between his international familial bonds and his membership in such hard-touring bands as Big Chief and Five Horse Johnson, he was mourned by friends, fans, and family globally. His loss was most keenly felt in Detroit, Michigan, his hometown since moving to the area from Mexico as a child, and where he was amid recording the latest GIANT BRAIN album.
After the pain, tears, toasts and reflection, bandmates Al Sutton, Andy Sutton, and Eric Hoegemeyer endeavored to finish what they had started. Coming out four years after Dürr’s passing, Grade A Gray Day is GIANT BRAIN’s last musical will and testament, serving as both a tribute to their departed bandmate and the final chapter in a collaboration that reaches back to the 1990s, when the band members laid the groundwork for the Detroit rock renaissance of the following century.
Long fixtures of the local scene, GIANT BRAIN coalesced between sessions at Rustbelt Studios, Al Sutton’s recording facility in Royal Oak which has hosted regional and national rock royalty. One of the best guitarists in town, no small feat given the terrain, Dürr laid down six-string ideas that rolled as much as rocked while the Sutton brothers supplied taut rhythmic support and technical expertise. Their mix of Krautrock grooves, Detroit attitude, and ambient textures was first heard on 2007’s Plume. Producer and programmer Eric Hoegemeyer would join the band for 2009’s Thorn Of Thrones, with both albums being released on Small Stone Records.
From its packaging to the songs therein, Grade A Gray Day is a family affair. Sue Lott and Scott Hamilton, who played with Dürr in fellow Small Stoners Luder, guest on different songs, Detroit music luminaries Kenny Tudrick, Billy Reedy, James Simonson, Bob Ebeling, and Darrel Eubank sit in on others. UK transplant and Keeping The Blues Alive recording artist Joanne Shaw Taylor lays down searing guitar leads on two tracks and the album artwork was provided by underground art legend Mark Dancey, whose work has graced album covers by Soundgarden and who played guitar alongside Dürr in Big Chief.
Despite being a studio entity, GIANT BRAIN has always sounded like a band. There’s no denying, however, much of their unique musical voice was centered around Phil Dürr’s guitar playing, his ability to change gears from gritty to dreamy in the course of a single verse, his love of blues rock gravity and post-punk atmospherics, always thinking in the back of his mind, “What would Eddie Hazel play here?” At times sad and at other points a celebration, Dürr’s presence pulses and reverberates throughout Grade A Gray Day, whether in his guitar interplay with Joanne Shaw Taylor on the opener “Munich,” or the plangent chords hovering underneath Sue Lott’s vocals on “Between Trains,” the album’s final track and a moving farewell.
GIANT BRAIN’s Grade A Gray Day will be released on CD (limited to 300 copies) and digitally via Small Stone Recordings and vinyl (limited to 300 copies) via Small Stone with Kozmik Artifactz.
Grade A Gray Day Track Listing: 1. Munich 2. Terminator: (Where An Astronaut Dies In Space) 3. The Variac: (His Consciousness Reawakens) 4. Fore: (Rage At The Cruelty Of Forced Transhumanism) 5. Systems Failure: (Uprising, Destruction, And The Escape) 6. Between Trains
GIANT BRAIN: Phil Dürr – guitars, bass Andy Sutton – bass, vocals Eric Hoegemeyer – drums, keys, programming, synths Al Sutton – percussion, programming, keys
Posted in Questionnaire on July 27th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Alex Awn of Temple of Void
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I’m a creator, a leader, and a challenger. These three aspects manifest themselves differently depending on the realm, whether it’s through art, business, or even family life. I think all three are deep-rooted personality traits that are maybe equal parts nurture and nature.
Describe your first musical memory.
That’s a tough one. I don’t know what my first musical memory is but the first thing that comes to mind is seeing the artwork for Seventh Son of a Seventh Son. I remember seeing the cardboard cutouts in Woolworths in Glasgow. As an eight year old I was really drawn to the fantastical imagery of the album and the accompanying 12″ singles. I spent lots of time looking through the poster racks in the store as I stared at other Maiden artwork like “Bring Your Daughter to the Slaughter,” “Stranger in a Strange Land,” and “Aces High.” I was transfixed.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
My favorite musical memories are all about playing live shows. There have been too many exceptional shows to pick one, though. The memory is more of a feeling than a singular event. When I’m able to transcend and really enter a flow-state on stage, that is the best fucking thing in the world. There’s really a oneness that you can achieve when the circumstances are right. Everything feels pure and effortless and connected. It doesn’t happen every show. But when it does it’s magical.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I’m an atheist. Always have been. On top of that I despise religion. Always have. But I got married in a church. It was a gesture of a couple hours that had a significant return on investment from an emotional perspective. It didn’t mean I hated religion any less. It just meant I loved my wife more than I hated religion. But I had to have confidence in myself and my beliefs to make such a decision.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Hopefully it leads to self-fulfillment and authentic expression.
How do you define success?
Success can be measured in a variety of ways. Simply put, it’s achieving the thing which you set out to achieve. It’s very binary. You either did the thing you wanted to or you didn’t. But success can be held through failure, too. If you learned in your failure then you grew. You moved yourself forward. And that is success in and of itself. I have different measures of success in different realms of my life. They’re all uniquely defined. Sometimes simply trying is a success.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Michael Masi’s ruling in the last race of the 2021 F1 season in which he robbed Lewis Hamilton of his eighth world title. It was criminal.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
A new album from my new band.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Self-expression.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Last day. Maybe I’m supposed to have some grand reflection as we hit 100 of 100 records for the Quarterly Review, but I’ll spare you. I’ve put a few records from the bunch on year-end lists, enjoyed a lot of music, wondered why a few people got in touch with me in the first place, and generally plotzed through to the best of my ability. Thanks as always to The Patient Mrs., through whom all things are possible, for facilitation.
And thank you for reading. I hope you’ve managed to find something killer in all this, but if not, there’s still today to go, so you’ve got time.
Next QR is probably early October, and you know what? I’ve already got records lined up for it. How insane is that?
Quarterly Review #91-100:
Jo Quail, The Cartographer
To list the personnel involved in Jo Quail‘s Roadburn-commissioned five-movement work The Cartographer would consume the rest of this review, so I won’t, but the London electric cellist is at the center of an orchestral experiment the stated purpose of which is to find the place where classical and heavy musics meet. Percussion thuds, there’s piano and electric violin and a whole bunch of trombones, and whatever that is making the depth-charge thud underneath “Movement 2,” some voices and narration at the start by Alice Krige, who once played the Borg Queen among many other roles. Though Quail composed The Cartographer for Roadburn — originally in 2020 — the recording isn’t captured on that stage, but is a studio LP, which lets each headphone-worthy nuance and tiny flash of this or that shine through. So is it heavy? Not really in any traditional sense, but of course that’s the point. Is SunnO))) heavy? Sure. It’s less about conforming to given notions of genre characteristics than bringing new ideas to them and saying this-can-be-that in the way that innovative art does, but heavy? Why the hell not? Think of it as mind-expansion, only classy.
An aptly named second full-length from Buenos Aires trio Experiencia Tibetana greatly solidifies the band’s approach, which of course itself is utterly fluid. Having brought in Gaston Saccoia on drums, vocals and other percussion alongside guitarist/vocalist Walter Fernandez and bassist Leandro Moreno Vila since their recorded-in-2014-released-in-2020 debut, Vol. I (review here), the band take the methodology of meditative exploration from that album and pare it down to four wholly expansive processions, resonant in their patience and earthy psychedelic ritualizing. Each side of the 48-minute LP is comprised of a shorter track and a longer, and they’re arranged for maximum immersion as one climbs a presumably Tibetan mountain, going up and coming back down with the longest material in the middle, the 16-minute pair “Ciudad de latahes” and “(Desde el) Limbo” running in hypnotic succession with minimalism, noise wash, chanting, percussive cacophony, dead space, bass fuzz, spoken word and nearly anything else they want at their disposal. With “El delito espiritual I” (8:18) and the maybe-eBow(?) ghost howls of “El delito espiritual II” (7:19) on either side, Vol. II charts a way forward for the trio as they move into unknown aural reaches.
People of the Black Circle, People of the Black Circle
Not quite like anything else, Athenian conjurors People of the Black Circle plunge deep into horror/fantasy atmospheres, referencing H.P. Lovecraft and Robert Howard within the five tracks of their nonetheless concise 34-minute/five-track self-titled debut. Weighted in tone and mood, almost garage-doom in its production, the synth-backing of “Cimmeria” unfolds after the outward crunch of leadoff “Alchemy of Sorrow” — like Euro doom dramaturge transposed onto a bed of ’80s synths with Om-style bass — and from centerpiece “The Ghoul and the Seraph (Ghoul’s Song II)” through the bookending choral figures and either sampled or synthesized horns over the resolute chug of “Nyarlathotep” and more straight-ahead slow-motion push of closer “Ghosts in Agartha,” which swirls out a highlight solo after a wailing verse lets go and seems to drift away after its payoff for the album as an entirety. While in concept, People of the Black Circle‘s aesthetic isn’t necessarily anything new, there’s no denying the boundaries of dungeon synth and horror/garage doom are being transcended here, and that mixture feels like it’s being given a fresh perspective in these songs, even if the thematic is familiar. A mix of new and old, then? Maybe, but the new wins out decisively. In the parlance of our times, “following.”
It always seems to be a full moon when Black Capricorn are playing, regardless of actual cloud cover or phase. The Sardinian trio of guitarist/vocalist Fabrizio Monni (also production; also in Ascia), bassist Virginia Pras and drummer Rachela Piras offer an awaited follow-up to their 2019 Solstice EP (discussed here). Though it’s their fifth full-length overall, it’s the second with this lineup of the band (first through Majestic Mountain), and it comes packed with references like the doomly “Worshipping the Bizarre Reverend” and “Snake of the Wizard” as distorted, cultish and willfully strange vibes persist across its 44-minute span. Doom. Even the out-there centerpiece kinda-interlude “Godsnake Djamballah” and the feedback-laced lurch-march of the nine-minute “Witch of Endor” have a cauldron-psych vibe coinciding with the largely riff-driven material, though, and it’s the differences between the songs that ultimately bring them together, closer “Uddadhaddar” going full-on ritualist with percussion and drone and chanting vocals as if to underscore the point. It’s been five years since they released Omega (review here), their most recent LP, and Cult of Blood wholly justifies the wait.
The Danish title Skyggekæmper translates to English as “shadow fighter,” and if punk-informed heavy rocking Aarhus three-piece SABOTØR mean it in a political context, then fair enough. I speak no Danish, but their past work and titles here like “2040-Planen” — seemingly a reference to Denmark’s clean energy initiative — the stomping, funky “Ro På, Danmark!” (‘calm down, Denmark’) and even the suitably over-the-top “King Diamond” seem to have speaking about Danishness (Danedom?) as an active element. Speaking of “active,” the energy throughout the nine-song/49-minute span of the record is palpable, and while they’re thoroughly in the post-Truckfighters fuzz rock dominion tonally, the slowdowns of “Edderkoppemor” and the closing title-track hit the brakes at least here and there in their longer runtimes and expand on the thrust of the earlier “Oprør!” and “Arbejde Gør Fri,” the start-stop riffing of which seems as much call to dance as a call to action — though, again, I say that as someone without any actual idea if it’s the latter — making the entire listening experience richer on the whole while remaining accessible despite linguistic or any other barriers to entry that might be perceived. To put it another way, you don’t have to be up on current issues facing Denmark to enjoy the songs, and if they make you want to be afterward, so much the better.
Vocalist/rhythm guitarist Van Bassman, lead guitarist/backing vocalist Benjamin J. Davidow and bassist/backing vocalist/percussionist Charles Wiles are The Buzzards of Fuzz. I’m not sure who that leaves as drummer on the Atlanta outfit’s self-titled Sept. 2021 debut LP — could be producer/engineer Kristofer Sampson, Paul Stephens and/or Nick Ogawa, who are all credited with “additional instrumentation” — and it could be nobody if they’re programmed, but one way or the other, The Buzzards of Fuzz sure sound like a complete band, from the trippin’-on-QOTSA vibe of “Tarantulove” and “Desert Drivin’ (No Radio)” (though actually it’s Kyuss alluded to in the lyrics of the latter) to the more languid psych pastoralia of “All in Your Head” and the spacious two minutes of “Burned My Tongue on the Sun,” the purposeful-feeling twist into Nirvana of “Mostly Harmless” and the nod to prior single “Lonely in Space” that is finale “Lonely in Space (Slight Return).” Sleek grooves, tight, hooky songwriting and at times a languid spirit that comes through no matter how fast they’re playing give The Buzzards of Fuzz, the album, a consistent mood across the 11 songs and 32 minutes that allows the delivery to play that much more of a role in making short pieces feel expansive.
Crawl into Temple of Void‘s deathly depths and you may find yourself duly consumed. Their style is less outright doom than it used to be, but the Detroit extremist five-piece nonetheless temper their bludgeoning with a resilient amount of groove, and even at their fastest in songs like “Hex, Curse & Conjuration” and some of the more plundering moments in “A Sequence of Rot” just prior, the weight behind their aural violence remains a major factor. The keys in “Deathtouch,” which follows down-you-go opener “Behind the Eye” and leads into “Engulfed” branches out the band’s sound with keyboards (or guitar-as-keyboards, anyway) and a wider breadth of atmosphere than they’ve enjoyed previously — “Engulfed” seems to touch on Type O Negative-style tonality as it chugs into its midsection — and the concluding “Dissolution” introduces a quieter, entirely-clean approach for just under three key-string-laced minutes that Temple of Void have legitimately never shown before. Seems doubtful they’ll take that as far as Opeth in putting out Damnation — though that’s just crazy enough to work — but it shows that as Temple of Void move toward the 10-year mark, their progression has not abated whatsoever. And they still kill, so no worries there.
Psych jazz, instrumental save for some found voice samples which, if you were listening on headphones out in the wild, say, might have you wondering if you’re missing the announcement for your train at the station. Based in Thessaloniki, Greece, Anomalos Kosmos brim with experimentalist urgency on the half-hour of Mornin Loopaz, the seven tracks of which are titled playing off the days of the week — “Meinday,” “Chooseday,” “Whensday,” etc. — but which embark each on their own explorations of the outer reaches of far out. The longest of the bunch is “Thirstday” at just over five minutes, and at 30 minutes one could hardly accuse them of overstaying their welcome. Instead, the shimmering tone, fluid tempos and unpredictable nature of their style make for a thrilling listen, “Thirstday” remaining vital even as it spaces out and “Friedday” picking up directly from there with a ready sense of relief. They spend the weekend krautrocking in “Shatterday” and managing to squeeze a drum solo in before the rushing Mediterranean-proggy end of “Sinday,” the crowd noise that follows leaving one wondering if there aren’t more subversive messages being delivered beneath the heady exterior. In any case, this is a band from a place where the sun shines brightly, and the music stands as proof. Get weird and enjoy.
This third full-length from Quebec-based doom outfit Cauchemar brings the band past their 15th anniversary and makes a bed for itself in traditionalist metallurgy, running currents of NWOBHM running through opener “Jour de colère” and “Rouge sang” while “Danger de nuit” takes a more hard rock approach and the penultimate roller “Volcan” feels more thoroughly Sabbathian. With eight songs presumably arranged four per vinyl side, there’s a feeling of symmetry as “Le tombeau de l’aube” tempts Motörhead demons and answers back with wilful contradiction the late-’70s/early-’80s groove that comes late in “Notre-Dame-sous-Terre.” Closer “La sorcière” tolls its bells presumably for thee as the lead guitar looks toward Pentagram and vocalist Annick Giroux smoothly layers in harmony lines before the church organ carries the way out. Classic in its overarching intentions, the songs nonetheless belong to Cauchemar exclusively, and speak to the dead with a vibrancy that avoids the trappings of cultism while working to some of its strengths in atmosphere, sounding oldschool without being tired, retro or any more derivative than it wants to be. No argument here, it’s metal for rockers, doom for doomers, riffs for the converted or those willing to be. I haven’t looked to see if they have patches yet, but I’d buy one if they do.
If you ever wanted to hear Weedeater or Dopethrone hand you your ass with Sons of Otis-worthy tones, Seum‘s Blueberry Cash has your back. The no-guitar-all-bass-and-drums-and-screams Montreal three-piece are just as crusty and weedian as you like, and in “Blueberry Cash,” “John Flag” and the seven-minute “Hairy Muff,” they reinforce sludge extremity with all that extra low end as if to remind the universe where the idea of music being heavy in the first place comes from. Grooves are vital and deathly, produced with just enough clarity to come through laced with what feels like extra nastiness, and “John Flag”‘s blues verse opens into a chasm of a chorus, waiting with sharpened teeth. Rounding out, “Hairy Muff” is a take on a song by vocalist Gaspar‘s prior band, Lord Humungus, and it’s drawn out into a plodding homage to liberation, pubes and the ability of sludge to feel like it’s got its hands on either side of your face and is pressing them together as hard as it can. These guys are a treasure, I mean that, and I don’t care what genre you want to tag it as being or how brutal and skinpeeling they want to make it, something with this much fuckall will always be punk rock in my mind.
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 12th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The joke here is obvious, right? That ‘summoning the slayer’ is what every dude shouting ‘SLAYERRRRRRRR’ at every show has been doing since probably 1984. Looking at the Hieronymus Bosch-meets-Guillermo Tel Doro cover art though, clearly Detroit’s Temple of Void had their own ideas about where they were coming from on their fourth album and label debut for Relapse Records. The five-piece have steadily worked on either side of the line — often on both sides — of death and doom metals, and after their 2020 third album, The World That Was (review here), the newly unveiled eight-minute single “Deathtouch” finds them gloriously grueling and headfirst into extremity as ever, but check out too a bit of melody near the ending. Maybe hints of some of the expansion of their sound the PR wire is hinting at below.
Either way, I’ll take it. “Deathtouch” is duly lethal. You’ll find it at the bottom of this post. Consider the slayer summoned, though there are of course more singles to come before the June 3 release.
Info:
TEMPLE OF VOID ANNOUNCE RELAPSE DEBUT SUMMONING THE SLAYER OUT JUNE 3
SHARE “DEATHTOUCH” MUSIC VIDEO
WATCH/SHARE:
https://orcd.co/templeofvoid-sts
Cave dwellers TEMPLE OF VOID finally return from the inky abyss on their highly anticipated new album, Summoning the Slayer, out June 3 on Relapse Records. Watch the “Deathtouch” music video, directed by The C.O.I.N.
Summoning The Slayer is out June 3 on LP/CD/CS/Digital. Physical pre-order via Relapse.com are available HERE: https://store.relapse.com/temple-of-void-summoning-the-slayer
Digital Downloads/Streaming HERE: https://orcd.co/templeofvoid-sts
The critically acclaimed, Michigan-based quintet—featuring Alex Awn (guitars), Don Durr (guitars), Mike Erdody (vocals), Jason Pearce (drums), and Brent Satterly (bass)—hunkered down during the last two years, expanding upon their brand of fusty, artfully brutish death-doom with equal parts process and imagination. The outcome is an album that feels massive yet sepulchral, exploratory yet distinguishable—as if crafted deep below and inspired by all the things (mentally and physically) that come with their subterranean endeavor. Summoning the Slayer creepily evolves TEMPLE OF VOID.
Produced, mixed, and mastered by Arthur Rizk (Power Trip, Sumerlands, Candy, and more,) Summoning the Slayer pairs long-time influences and a bevy of non-metal vectors into hulking columns of heavy and desolation. Focus tracks “Deathtouch,” “Hex, Curse, & Conjuration” and “The Transcending Horror” showcases TEMPLE OF VOID’s death-doom at its heights and their massive, crushing lows. But the group’s fourth album is more than that. The album’s capper, “Dissolution,” is one example of the Detroiters stretching out, the song’s ‘70s rock/singer-songwriter motifs hitting The Moody Blues and Nick Drake hard. Lyrically, Summoning the Slayer eschews commonplace horror tropes with a deeper, broader psychological discussion of the self. TEMPLE OF VOID’s ultimate death-doom metal journey is now complete.
Photo Credit: Brian Sheehan
SUMMONING THE SLAYER TRACKLIST: Behind The Eye Deathtouch Engulfed A Sequence of Rot Hex, Curse, & Conjuration The Transcending Horror Dissolution
TEMPLE OF VOID Is: Michael Erdody – Vocals Don Durr – Guitar Jason Pearce – Drums Alex Awn – Guitar Brent Satterly –Bass
Posted in Questionnaire on November 23rd, 2021 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Karen O’Connor of The Lucid Furs
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
If you would have told 20 year old me if I thought I would end up singing on stage in front of a crowd, I wouldn’t have believed you. I puked after trying out for a solo in high school choir. My first involvement with the music scene was doing event booking and then screen printing t-shirts for bands. At that time I only sang to my dog, almost never publicly unless I had too many drinks.
I was asked to join my first band, Karmic Lava, after doing karaoke at a party, “White Rabbit” I think. I tried to back out of it but my friend Rob Cedar razzed me until I finally caved and came to my first band practice. I am very glad that he did. After a few live shows I came out of my shell. The music was good, just not really what I wanted to play and I didn’t have much of a hand in writing. Two years later, I left the project and began seeking out musicians to form my own, that project turned into The Lucid Furs. I still work for musicians as a printer and try to show my support to anyone who puts themselves out there, knowing how much courage and hard work it takes.
Describe your first musical memory.
When I was a kid my grandparents had this huge antique reed organ in their living room. Spent lots of my time pretending I was playing it while watching Lawrence Welk reruns on public TV. I vividly remember the day I realized I was finally tall enough to reach the foot pumps from the bench.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
In 2018, we played a show at World Famous Kenton Club in Portland. Not a particularly packed gig but, the energy in the room was radiant. As I got off stage I was stopped by a woman, who informed me that we had just played her wedding reception. Their previously reserved spot had double booked, so they moved it to our show spur of the moment. They were super cool, we took some pictures with them, hooked them up with some merch and a round. I’m not much for ceremonies but it did feel nice to participate in a momentous life event of a stranger.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
My beliefs are continually being tested and that’s a good thing. I am too new to this world to permanently dig my heels in.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
A sense of inner peace and enhanced self worth.
How do you define success?
I only ever really set loose goals. Having a rigid definition for success always brought out the avarice in me. Right now the goal is simply to continue writing and touring with my three best friends. Continue pushing forward expanding the band’s horizons and making new connections with potential partners.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
The US political atmosphere between the years 2016 and now.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I’d like to create a communal working space, not just my band but other bands from my area. There has always been a lack of functional private secure spots for musicians here, now more so than ever after the pandemic.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Comradery and connecting people from other walks of life.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I made sure our tour route landed us near SC on our Monday off so I can stop in Hilton Head Island and see my Grammy. She’s 95 years old, sharp and a tack, very sweet and a riot at happy hour.
