Posted in Whathaveyou on August 31st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
It’s the multi-generational cult doom tour of the year! Though I say that and have no idea how many other multi-generational cult doom tours have happened throughout 2023 — it’s been a busy nine months. But uniting cult rock legends Coven with doom rockers Lucifer to apparently co-headline with classic doom upstarts Early Moods — who are about to meet a whole lot of friends they didn’t even know they had — in the opener spot is a celebration of heavy forms past, present and future, and probably a killer show besides. There’s little here not to like, I guess is what I’m saying.
Assembled at the behest of Nanotear Booking, it’s an especially strong package of bands and will hit major markets coast to coast throughout most of November. I’m not sure what else you’d need to know. Anytime Jinx Dawson hits the road it’s an event, and Lucifer is the perfect support act, with Early Moods in the opener’s slot with their own hard-hitting style and ready stage presence.
Could go on here but what’s the point? Seeing Coven is a must, seeing Lucifer is a should, and seeing Early Moods is a potential years-down-the-line regret if you don’t. Can’t make it any simpler than that.
From Nanotear on socials:
At long last, we can announce the unholy alliance of Coven & Lucifer, touring America this November with support from Early Moods. \m/
Tickets on sale this Friday.
THE SATANIC PANIC TOUR with LUCIFER & COVEN Special Guest: Early Moods
Nov 8, Los Angeles, Teragram Ballroom Nov 9, San Diego, Brick By Brick Nov 10, Santa Cruz, The Atrium Nov 11, Berkeley, The Cornerstone Nov 13, Portland, Star Theater Nov 14, Vancouver, Hollywood Theatre Nov 15, Seattle, Substation Nov 18, Denver, The Oriental Theater Nov 19, Omaha, The Waiting Room Nov 21, Minneapolis, Fine Line Nov 22, Chicago, Bottom Lounge Nov 24, Toronto, Lee’s Palace Nov 25, Montreal, Le Studio TD Nov 26, Cambridge, The Sinclair Nov 28, Philadelphia, Underground Arts Nov 29, New York, Le Poisson Rouge Nov 30, Baltimore, Soundstage †
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 20th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
If I’d had a soul, it would’ve wept bitter soul-tears last September at my being unable to attend Monolith on the Mesa 2022 (lineup here, if you’d like a refresher) in Taos, New Mexico. Now, I don’t know what Roman Barham, also of heavy trio Red Mesa, has in store for the first-and-maybe-only installment of Burque Rock City Fest, which moves the proceedings from Taos to Albuquerque and is set to have its inaugural edition take place in early August, but I’m more than willing to trust that by the time he and his crew have their shit together and know what they’re doing, based on past evidence as well as the already well-on-its-way lineup they’ve unveiled for Burque Rock City Fest 2023, highlighted by Belzebong coming over from Poland, Weedeater at the top of the bill (unclear if they’re headlining or just there for now), Matt Pike‘s solo-project, Early Moods, High Desert Queen, Sorcia and Thunder Horse alongside Prism Bitch and Coma Recovery.
It’s two days — Monolith was three last year — and will happen across two venues, neither of which I know anything about more than their name from lists of tour dates. But again, it’s a new fest but familiar parties behind it, so also not a worry. Barham notes in the quote below that Monolith on the Mesa will be back in Taos in 2024, so it’s unclear whether Burque Rock City Fest is a one-time-only placeholder or will be an ongoing second festival. I wouldn’t attempt to guess, but as it’s worth keeping an eye on, that’s what I’m doing. Will continue to do so as the lineup takes shape.
For now, the first announcement and early-bird ticket links, as per the PR wire:
Monolith On The Mesa Presents: Burque Rock City Fest
August 4th & 5th 2023
The Historic El Rey Theater & Insideout Bar in Downtown Albuquerque, New Mexico.
The first round of bands has been announced…
Weedeater * Pike Vs The Automaton * Belzebong * Early Moods * High Desert Queen * ThunderHorse * Sorcia * Prism Bitch * Coma Recovery
Roman Barham, co-founder of Monolith on the Mesa has been quietly working on Burque Rock City Fest.
Barham says:
“Monolith On The Mesa crew would love to thank everyone who helped make Monolith 2022 an awesome fest. Huge thanks from The Taos Mesa Brewery crew, the Hotel Luna Mystica crew and to all the very respectful patrons that came out and made Monolith On The Mesa 2022 an amazing tribute to our fallen brother Dano Sanchez (deceased Monolith co-founder).
We have decided to take a year off from Monolith and bring it back in 2024 to Taos Mesa Brewery.
Branching south from the Monolith On The Mesa tree is Burque Rock City Fest in Albuquerque, NM At The Historic El Rey Theater & Insideout Bar On Friday August 4th & Saturday August 5th 2023.
More band announcements & more exciting info soon.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 10th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
To my fellow East Coasters, let’s collectively decide not to fuck this one up, hmm? I know February is cold and everyone has shit to do in their life, going out costs money that no one seems to have anymore, on and on. I know all the excuses. I’ve lived every single one of them. But the fact is this is Early Moods‘ first headlining run that hits the Eastern Seaboard — they signed with Nanotear Booking last year following, among other things, a stellar performance at Psycho Las Vegas (review here) — and it’s something you don’t want to miss. These guys are young, hungry, on-point in terms of sound and a genuine presence on stage. If they, and we as the audience, all play our cards right, they could become something really special for doom in the next few years.
Or we could stay home and they could get no support, flame out, be bitter, suck or break up, and not realize their potential to vanguard a new generation’s take on classic doom metal. I’m not saying it’s all on your shoulders personally. I’m saying they’re going for it. They’re putting their work in starting at half-past already, and if you believe in heavy music, the underground, any of it, it’s your responsibility to support a young band giving touring life a real shot, especially as they do it for the first time. And especially since they’re good.
It’s not my job to try to sell tickets for anybody, but Early Moods are the kind of band who can make you believe. Even if you’ve forgotten what that feels like.
Here are the dates:
EARLY MOODS – *ANNOUNCEMENT*
Catch us out on the road next month in support of our new record. Tickets are are on sale now. Which date will we see you at ?
2/16 – San Diego, CA- Brick By Brick 2/17 – Tucson, AZ – Groundworks 2/18 – Scottsdale, AZ- Yucca Tap 2/19 – Albuquerque, NM – Sisters 2/21 – Austin, TX- Lost Well 2/22 – Shreveport, LA – Shreve Station 2/23 – Atlanta, GA – Boggs 2/24 – Charlotte, NC – Snug Harbor 2/25 – Baltimore , MD – Holy Frijoles 2/26 – Philadelphia, PA – Kung FunNecktie 2/27 – Brooklyn, NY – Saint Vitus 2/28 – Youngstown, OH – Westside Bowl 3/01 – Detroit, MI – Sanctuary 3/02 – Chicago, IL – Live Wire 3/03 – Lawrence, KS – Replay Lounge 3/04 – Denver, CO – Hi-Dive 3/05 – SLC, UT – Urban Lounge 3/07 – Seattle, WA – Substation 3/08 – Portland, OR – High Water Mark 3/09 – Sacramento, Ca – Cafe Colonial 3/10 – Oakland, CA – Eli’s 3/11 – Palmdale, Ca – Transplants
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 2nd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I mean, what can you say to this other than ‘can I come?’ I’ve known this festival was capable of some real-deal shit over the last decade, but this is absolutely epic, which is a word I do my best to avoid. And they end it by saying there’s more to come. God damn. Really. God damn.
Wow.
Here:
Desertfest London announce over 40 bands for 2023
Friday 5th May – Sunday 7th May 2023 | Weekend Tickets on sale now
Desertfest London is rounding off the year with an ear-shattering bang, announcing a mammoth 43 artists to their 2023 line-up. Joining the likes of Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats, Graveyard, Kadavar and Church of Misery, the Camden-based festival also welcomes back Corrosion of Conformity as headliners.
Pioneers of a groove-laden sound that is undeniably their own, Corrosion of Conformity have not been back on UK soil since 2018 so expect big, loud and memorable things from their appearance at Desertfest next year. Corrosion of Conformity have been due to play the event since 2020 – making their return one of the most widely requested in the event’s history.
Japan’s own avant-garde maestros of down-tuned psychedelia Boris leap over to London alongside the crushingly loud tones of NOLA’s own Crowbar. One of the most exciting bands in recent memory King Buffalo, make their long-awaited debut plus Desertfest favourites, Weedeater are back after five long years of chugging whiskey lord-knows-where.
The pace moves up a notch with New York City’s noise-rock guru’s Unsane and British punk-legends Discharge, all of whom bring a detour from the slow’n’low sounds the festival is best recognised for. Montreal’s Big | Brave will play the festival for the first time showcasing their experimental and minimalist take on the notion of ‘heavy’, whilst the doors to the Church of The Cosmic Skull are open, as they ask Desertfest revellers to join them in a union unlike any other.
Desertfest also warmly welcomes noise from STAKE, British anti-fascist black metallers Dawn Ray’d and London’s loudest duo Tuskar as well as some of the best recent stoner acts in the form of Telekinetic Yeti, Weedpecker & Great Electric Quest. Elsewhere the weekend will also see Wren, The Necromancers, Dommengang, Samavayo, Morass of Molasses, Sum of R & GNOB offer up unique live performances.
Rounding off this beast of an announcement are Acid Mammoth, Deatchant, Zetra, Trevor’s Head, Our Man in The Bronze Age, Wyatt E., Iron Jinn, Mr Bison, Troy The Band, Oreyeon, Warren Schoenbright, Early Moods, Longheads, Terror Cosmico, Thunder Horse, TONS, Vinnum Sabbathi, Bloodswamp, The Age of Truth, Earl of Hell and Black Groove.
Weekend Tickets for Desertfest London 2023 are on-sale now via www.desertfest.co.uk with more acts still to be announced.
Day splits and day tickets will be on sale from January.
Full Line-Up for Desertfest London 2023: UNCLE ACID & THE DEADBEATS | GRAVEYARD | CORROSION OF CONFORMITY | KADAVAR | BORIS | CROWBAR | CHURCH OF MISERY | WEEDEATER | KING BUFFALO | BLOOD CEREMONY | DISCHARGE | SOMALI YACHT CLUB | UNSANE | BIG|BRAVE | INTER ARMA | CHURCH OF THE COSMIC SKULL | VALLEY OF THE SUN | STAKE | MARS RED SKY | SPACESLUG | GRAVE LINES | GAUPA | TUSKAR | TELEKINETIC YETI | WEEDPECKER | DAWN RAY’D | WREN | GREAT ELECTRIC QUEST | THE NECROMANCERS | DOMMENGANG | ECSTATIC VISION | SAMAVAYO | MORASS OF MOLASSES | SUM OF R | HIGH DESERT QUEEN | GNOB | EVEREST QUEEN | ACID MAMMOTH | DEATHCHANT | ZETRA | CELESTIAL SANCTUARY | TREVOR’S HEAD | OUR MAN IN THE BRONZE AGE | WYATT E. | MR BISON | TROY THE BAND | PLAINRIDE | IRON JINN | OREYEON | WARREN SCHOENBRIGHT | EARLY MOODS | LONGHEADS | TERROR COSMICO | THUNDER HORSE | TONS | VINNUM SABBATHI | BLOODSWAMP | VENOMWOLF | THE AGE OF TRUTH | EARL OF HELL | BLACK GROOVE | MARGARITA WITCH CULT
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 27th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
And now for the heartwarming tale of a band getting bigger. Early Moods come along and start kicking ass and yesterday I’m reading they’re starting to work with Nanotear for booking (you might know Nathan Carson from Witch Mountain if not the booking end of things) and now today they’re announcing a (prior booked) trip to the East Coast supporting no less than High on Fire. From here to where? Europe? Oh that’s gotta be in the works. They’re too good at what they do for Europe not to have noticed. Is their self-titled (review here) the best debut album of 2022? I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it yet. But I know it’s on the damn list.
Also somewhat curious that their post hashtags Nuclear Blast. I know that’s Municipal Waste‘s label now, and fair enough, but it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if they saw something they liked in a young band taking on classic doom metal at such a high level and with their kind of nascent stage presence. I don’t know anything in that regard, mind you — the self-titled came out on RidingEasy Records, and if their next one does too, it’ll only be to the band’s benefit; Daniel knows how to make a band happen — but it’s something that caught my eye just the same. If that announcement comes, I’ll just make another post, pat myself on the back for noticing what turned out to be a dropped hint.
So anyway, tour dates, huh? Here you go:
We’re hitting the road this December w/ @municipalwaste @highonfireband & @gelhc !
Tickets go on sale Friday, October 28th at 10:00AM Local Time at the link in bio.
Dec 1 – Hampton Beach, NH – Wally’s Dec 2 – Brattleboro, VT – The Stone Church Dec 3 – Hartford, CT – The Webster Theater Dec 4 – Patchogue, NY – 89 North Dec 6 – Asbury Park, NJ – House of Independants Dec 7 – Mechanicsville, PA – Lovedraft’s Brewing Co Dec 8 – Virginia Beach, VA – Elevation 27 Dec 9 – Greenville, NC – The State Theatre Dec 10 – Columbia, SC – The Senate Dec 11 – Tampa, FL – The Orpheum
Posted in Radio on September 30th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
As will happen during a Quarterly Review, I’ve sort of found myself thinking there’s a ton of stuff that I don’t want to see get lost in the shuffle, and I’ve decided to focus this episode of The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal on making sure that doesn’t happen.
‘Selections from the QR’ may be the theme here, but what it rounds out to is a cool mix of mostly new music either way. Goes without saying that with 100 releases covered, there was plenty to choose from, and indeed I might end up doing a second of these — it was a two-week Quarterly Review after all, ending today — but if you’ve kept up with that or not, this is a summary of some of what was included. Like the Quarterly Review itself, it’s pretty heavy on vibe and atmosphere, but there are a couple bangers in there too that, along with the rest, I most certainly hope you enjoy.
Thanks if you listen and thanks for reading.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 09.30.22 (VT = voice track)
Mezzoa
Moya
Dunes of Mars
Lightrain
Hyd
AER
Spirit Adrift
Mass Formation Psychosis
20 Centuries Gone
VT
Cachemira
Ambos Mundos
Ambos Mundos
Goatriders
The Garden
Traveler
Garden of Worm
In the Absence of Memory
Endless Garden
Church of the Cosmic Skull
Now’s the Time
There is No Time
Voidward
Chemicals
Voidward
Early Moods
Curse the Light
Early Moods
Maunra
Lightbreather
Monarch
Obiat
Ulysses
Indian Ocean
Reverend Mother
Locomotive
Damned Blessing
Deer Creek
A Dark, Heartless Machine
Menticide
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships
Mystical Consumer
Consensus Trance
Blacklab
Abyss Woods
In a Bizarre Dream
VT
The Gray Goo
Bicycle Day
1943
Les Lekin
Ascent
Limbus
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Oct. 14 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
Posted in Reviews on September 23rd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
See you back here Monday, huh? Yeah. If onslaughts of new music are your thing and you’ve been following along throughout this week — first, thank you — and second, we’ll pick up after the weekend with another 50 albums in this double-wide Fall 2022 Quarterly Review. This was a good week though. Yesterday had some genuine killers, and I’ve added a few to my best-of lists for the end-of-year stuff to come. There’ll be another Quarterly Review then too. Never any trouble filling slots with new releases. I’ve already started, in fact.
Madness. Didn’t I say something yesterday about one thing at a time? Ha.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Crippled Black Phoenix, Banefyre
There are times where I wonder if Crippled Black Phoenix aren’t just making fun of other bands, their audience, themselves, and everything, and then there are times when I’m pretty sure they are. To wit, their latest outing for Season of Mist, Banefyre, is nearly an hour into its 90-plus-minute runtime before they offer up the 10-minute “Down the Rabbit Hole,” and, well, if we’re not down it by then, where the hell are we? See also “Wyches and Basterdz” near the outset. Whatever else they may be, the long-running, dynamic, progressive, dark heavy rock troupe surrounding founding songwriter and guitarist Justin Greaves are like nothing else. They offer shades of influences, discernable elements from this or that style, this or that band — “The Reckoning” has a bit of The Cure, “Blackout77” filters that through Katatonia, etc. — but are never working to be anyone but themselves. Accordingly, the thoroughly British depressive triumphs throughout Banefyre — looking at you, “I’m OK, Just Not Alright” — are part of an ongoing narrative of creative development that will hit its 20th year in 2024 and has offered listeners an arc of emotive and stylistic depth that, in whatever genre you want to try to confine it, is only ever going to escape. The only real tragedy of Banefyre is that they’ll probably have another record out before this one can be properly digested. That’ll take a few years at least.
An Oklahoma hardcore-born circus of sludge-toned tragedies personal, cultural and socioeconomic played out across nine songs/42 minutes held together at times seemingly most of all by their disenchantment, Chat Pile‘s debut album, God’s Country is arthouse angularity, raw aggression and omnidirectional intensity. As the UK’s post-industrial waste once birth’d Godflesh, so now come vocalist Raygun Busch, guitarist Luther Manhole, bassist Stin and electronic-drummer Cap’n Ron with brilliantly constructed tales of drugs, murder, suicide, loss, violence, misery, and general wretchedness of spirit, presented instrumentally with quick turns that draw from hardcore as noted, but also death metal, sludge, industrial doom, and so on. The lyrics are masterful drug poetry and delivered as such, semi-spoken, shouted, some singing, some acting out, such that you never know from what direction the next punch is coming. “Why” tackles homelessness, “Pamela” demonstrates the impossibility of coping with loss, “Slaughterhouse” is what it says, and closer “Grimace_Smoking_Weed.jpeg” resolves its nine minutes in long-held feedback and crashes as Busch frantically screams with decreasing intelligibility until it’s even words anymore. A perfect finish to a stunning, terrifying, moving first album. Don’t go into it expecting listenability. Even as “I Don’t Care if I Burn” offers some respite, it does so while describing a murder fantasy. It’s not the only one.
Fuck yes Gen-Z doom. Yes. Yes. Yes. Show the old men how it’s done. Please. Not a gray hair in the bunch, or a bullshit riff, or a lazy groove. Early Moods got their influences in line with their 2020 debut EP, Spellbound (review here), and you can still hear some Candlemass in “Broken,” but their self-titled debut LP stamps its foot to mark their arrival as something new and a fresh take on classic ideas. Vocalist Alberto Alcaraz is a distinct presence atop the hard-distorted guitars of Eddie Andrade and Oscar Hernandez, while Elix Feliciano‘s bass fuzz-rumbles through the interlude “Memento Mori” and Chris Flores‘ big-room-ready kick counts in the Trouble‘d early highlight “Live to Suffer.” Later on, “Curse of the Light” leans into the metal end of classic doom metal ahead of the chugging roll of “Damnation” and the finisher “Funeral Macabre,” but Early Moods have already put these things in play by then, as demonstrated with the eponymous title-track. Songs are tight, crisply produced, and executed to style with a promise of more growth to come. It’s an easy record to get excited about, and one of 2022’s best albums. I might just buy the tape and the CD.
Less than a year after a return born of celebrating the project’s 10th anniversary with the Ink fo’ Blood (review here) full-length, prolific visual artist, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and singer Alexander von Wieding returns with Larman Clamor‘s latest, With a Deadly Hiss. As ever, formalities are dispensed with in favor of deceptively intricate arrangements of slide acoustic and electric guitar, whatever’s-around-style percussion and von Wieding‘s telltale throaty vocals, which on “Swamp Jive” and even a bit of the six-minute finale “Eleventh Spell to Cast” draw back the throaty grit in favor of a more melodic, somewhat less performative delivery that suits the material well. Songs are mostly short — there are 11 of them and the aforementioned closer is the longest by about three minutes — but each is a blinking glimpse into the humid, climbing-vine world of von Wieding‘s creation, and in instrumentals like the manic percussion of “Monkey and the Trash Goblins” and the distortion-backed algae-delica of “Iguana at the Fountain,” the brashness of “Tortuga” and the playful falsetto of the leadoff title-track are expanded in such a way as to hint of future paths to be explored. One way or the other, Larman Clamor remains an entity unto itself in concept, craft and delivery, and if With a Deadly Hiss is just another forward step en route to the next stop on down the road, even better.
Recorded in 2021, The Necromancers‘ third album would seem to have a mind toward picking up where the Poitiers, France-based four-piece left off pre-pandemic with 2018’s Of Blood and Wine (review here). Can hardly blame them, frankly. Now self-releasing (their first two albums were on Ripple), the semi-cult heavy rockers bring an air of classic metal to the proceedings but are remarkably cohesive in their craft, with guitarist/vocalist Basile Chevalier-Coudrain fronting the band even in the studio as demonstrated on the ’80s metal roller “The Needle,” which follows the eight-minute doom-adjacent unfolding of “Crimson Hour” — and that “adjacent” is a compliment, by the way; The Necromancers are less concerned with playing to genre than with it — wherein guitarist Robin Genais adds a short but classy solo to underscore the willful grandiosity. Bassist Simon Evariste and drummer Benjamin Rousseau underscore the grooves, prominent in the verse of the title-track, and while it’s guitars up front in traditionalist fashion, the truth is all four players are critical here, and it’s the overarching affect of the whole that makes When the Void Rose such an engaging listen, rather than the individual parts. That is to say, listen front to back for best results.
Though instrumental across its vast stretches, Les Lekin‘s Limbus — their first full-length since 2017’s Died with Fear, also on Tonzonen, and third overall — begins with a verbal message of hope, lyrics in German, in the beginning intro “Licht.” That gives a specifically covid-era context to the proceedings, but as the subsequent three massive sans-vocal pieces “Ascent” (14:14), “Unknown” (8:18) and closer “Return” (22:00), unfold, they do so with a decidedly otherworldly, deeply-weighted psychedelic verve. The narrative writes itself in the titles, so I’ll spare you the pretense of insight (on my part there), but note that if it was escapism through music being sought on the part of the meditative Salzburg three-piece, the richness of what’s on offer throughout Limbus is generous enough to share that experience with the audience as well. “Ascent” swells and builds as it moves duly upward, and in “Unknown,” the trio explores post-metallic atmospherics in a crunching midsection without ever losing sight of the ambience so central to what they’re doing, while it would be hard for “Return” not to be the highlight, drums and initial bass rumble giving way to a huge sounding, engrossing procession of atmospheric density. Les Lekin have been a critical favorite for a while now, and it’s easy to hear why, but their work here holds far more than academic appeal or to-genre conformity. They embody the release they would seem to have sought and still carry an exploratory spirit despite the clearly charted course of their songs.
LightShower is the fourth session from Hungarian jammers Highbay to see release in the last year-plus, and it arrives with the immediately noteworthy backing of Psychedelic Source Records. In the vein of many of that collective’s offerings, it is live recorded, probably improvised, and wholly instrumental, the trio vibing their way into a groove early on “Walking on Bubbles” and holding gently to that locked-in, entranced feel across the following five jams. The shimmering guitar tone, particuly as “Miracle Under Water” moves into the more extended “Spaceship” and the pleasantly funky “FunKing Dragons Above Fissure Mountains,” is a highlight, but the intention here is a full set, and I won’t take away from the fuzzier, riffier emergence later on in “FunKing Dragons” either, or, for that matter, the ready-to-wander post-rock float of closer “3D(ays) Trippin’.” It’s a big universe, and Highbay have their work cut out for them if they want to feel their way through all of it, but “Spaceship” mellows its way off into a greater beyond, and even “Hungover Sadness (’90s Romance)” manages to not be a drag as filtered through the trio’s chemistry. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t be the last time Highbay are heard from this year, but they’re yet another name to add to the list of Psychedelic Source-associated acts whose jammy sensibilities are helping manifest a new generation of Eastern European lysergic rock and roll.
Think of this as less of a review and more of a general reminder to throw a follow in the direction of Berkeley, California’s dug-in-as-hell Sound Animal, or at very least let your ears pay a visit every now and again to soak up some of the weirdo drone, dance, psych electronics and whatever else might be had on any given afternoon from the prolific solo-project. “Yes, Yes, You” is the latest single, but likely not for long, and it plays out across 3:33 of keyboardian ambience and recitations of the titular reassurance that would be soul-pop were they not so definitively experimental and part of such an ongoing creative splurge. Tucked away in a corner of the Bandcamp dimension, Sound Animal comes across as an outlet for ideas as much as sonics, and with the persistent thud of a beat beneath, one, two, three, four, the melodic serenity of the wash feels like direct conversation, with the listener, the self, or, more likely, both. It is beautiful and brief, as I’m told life also is, and it may just be the thing that came after one thing and before the next, but if you stop for a minute or three and let it sink in, you just might find a more substantial place to reside. Not gonna be for everyone, but the fact that “Yes, Yes, You” is so vague and yet so clearly encouraging rather than accusatory speaks to the artistic purpose writ large throughout Sound Animal‘s e’er expanding catalog. Wouldn’t be surprised or sad to find a subsequent single going somewhere else entirely, but again, just a reminder that it’s worth finding that out.
Somewhere between classic metal and doom, heavy rock’s riff-led impulses and cultish atmospheres there resides the Pesaro, Italy, trio Warcoe and their debut album, The Giant’s Dream. Led by guitarist/vocalist Stefano — who also plays bass on some of the later tracks — with bassist Carlo and drummer Francesco proffering thickened roll and punctuating rhythm all the while save for the early acoustic interlude “Omega Sunrise,” the band nestle smoothly into a modern-via-not-at-all-modern sphere, yet neither are they retro or aping ’70s methodologies. Maybe that moment has passed and it’s the ascent of the ’80s metal and doom we’re seeing here — or maybe I just slated Warcoe and Early Moods the same day and both bands dig Trouble and Death Row/Pentagram, I won’t pretend to know — but the bass in “Fire and Snow” is more of a presence than bass was pretty much ever 40 years ago, so to call The Giant’s Dream anything but ‘now’ is inaccurate. They lean into rock on “Thieves, Heretics and Whores” and manifest grim but stately lurch before the fade of the penultimate “Scars Will Remain,” but wherever each piece might end up, the impression is abidingly dark and offers a reminder that Italy’s history of cult doom goes farther back than most. Paul Chain, Steve Sylvester, your legacy is in good hands.
Hard to find info on the Boston or Boston-adjacent extreme-metal-inflected, sludge-toned dark hardcore outfit DONE — and that may just as well be anti-social-media mystique creation as the fact that their name is ungooglable — but the tape slays. Aged and Untreated hammers 15 scathing tracks into its 28 minutes, and dies on a hill of wintry black metal and barking hardcore mostly but not completely summarized in the turns of “Soulsplitter.” The fun part is when they bounce back and forth, throw in some grind on “To Curt on Waverly,” scratch your eyes out with “Dance for Them” — the second cut behind says-it-all-in-a-minute opener “Nah” — and willfully crash into a wall on the comparatively sprawling 2:35 “I Fucking Hate Thinking About You.” Haven’t seen a lyric sheet and probably won’t if my success rate in tracking down relevant factoids is anything to go by, but shit, I lived on the South Shore for seven years, including the record-breaking winter of 2014, and it sure felt a lot like this. Maybe they’re from Arizona, and if they are, I’m sure some hack would say the same thing, but hell’s bells Aged and Untreated is an intense listen, and its wreck-your-shit violence is meted out such that even the slightly-slower punch in the first half of “Hope Trickle” makes the song feel sarcastic. I wouldn’t put it on every day, but yeah. Righteously pissed.
I’ve been waiting weeks to say that. It is, however, a place for imposter syndrome, and I’ll admit to having already filled my quota of wondering how the hell I managed to get here. Considering I can barely get up to get myself a cup of water — I brought my pink water-drinking cup from home — let alone ice from somewhere down the hall, it feels pretty odd to not be at home right now. I am lucid, mostly. A little while ago I got back from seeing Kadabra at the Redtail and I guess that was the end of my night. I picked up a hamburger salad on the way back and that was dinner and I keep expecting it to kick in and have a surge of energy, but yeah, probably not.
Never had coffee today. There’s a Starbucks downstairs that I’ll hit in the AM. Desperate times, if I didn’t say that before.
What I learned throughout the course of today is that Resorts World is fucking huge. It’s three or four or seven plus-size hotels all interconnected. I don’t even know where one casino ends and another begins, or what’s where or whose is anything and there are a lot of flashing lights and a kind of mall attached with a big chrome watery-looking ball in it that’s like the mall art you remember but on steroids or maybe given a grim alien reboot. Finding the check-in to get my wristband this morning was a hoot, and from there I had my work even more cut out for me finding the pool. I was back and forth a few times throughout the day — there was one point during Early Moods where, righteous and doomed as they were, I just needed air conditioning. That’s poolside.
No, I didn’t go in. A lot of people did. My bathing suit is in the wash, or at least it was when I left the house yesterday to go to the airport. Clouds rolled in as the afternoon went on and Rifflord begat Early Moods begat Uniform and so forth, but it wouldn’t rain until during Elder’s set, which even though it was dark already still felt something like a godsend. I had been headed inside anyway. I’m getting ahead of myself.
The day was two days, how it worked out. I wound up splitting the schedule into two parts. Taking a break in the middle meant missing Deathchant, about whose set I’ve already heard good things, but made the rest of the day doable. Sometimes in life we have to make sacrifices. I’d rolled up early for Rifflord, got my bag searched for the first of three times today — the second time I was told to throw out my water bottle, which seems a little counterintuitive for an outdoor event in Las Vegas in August; I kind of felt like there should be refilling stations every two meters along the wall — and was asked about the camera gear but I said I was media (hence that whole imposter thing noted above) and they let it go. After I shot Rifflord and the head of Psycho’s team of 10 photographers came up to me and with a very West Coast manner, introduced himself and proceeded to tell me he didn’t know there was any outside media allowed to shoot the festival. The implication, of course, that I shouldn’t be there.
Well, there I was. One band, who rocked by the way, into a four-day festival, 100 degrees minimum with the sun trying to cleave my skull, and Photo Dude coming ’round to put me in my place. Yessir. Well sir, you see. And so on. He said his piece and even knowing I was right — which, yes, I was — it was still a kind of shitty way to start the thing. Fortunately, Rifflord had played “Tumbleweed” so I felt like I could take on anything the planet might put in my way, and it was too hot to be really bummed out. The trick is finding somewhere to be. Staking out a spot and putting yourself in it. I found a little shade toward the back and sat down. I’d been in one of the cabanas, but the people who’d staked it out came back and it was pretty clearly time to move on. I’d watch Early Moods, abscond for a few minutes to cool off by walking around the big, empty, fenced-off dirt lot that I assume is going to be eventually turned into some kind of ‘experience’, and then return for the finish of their set.
Classic heavy rock and doomer vibes. The morose aspects of Early Moods were a good setup for Uniform in that if Early Moods was bumming out about the world, Uniform were judging and finding it wanting. It made sense in a stages-of-grief kind of way. Rifflord and Early Moods were both bands I pointedly wanted to see, and Uniform’s harsher take — some industrial elements, mostly dark, aggro noise — was a shift in atmosphere that was welcome despite the groove the first two acts had established. By the time Uniform were finished, I felt like I was ready to die. I’d been hydrating and saying hello to the people kind enough to say hello to me, and I just plunked myself down at one point and did the math on eating and sleeping and found that their increasing my likelihood to last the full day made it worth a journey back to the room.
I did find my way back, eventually, but I’m still not sure that, say, if I was going to Dawg House to watch Elder at 1AM finish their rained-out set, I’d know how to get there. I’ll be asleep before then anyhow — already writing with one eye closed, which is never a good sign for continued consciousness. I ate a protein bar and then settled myself onto the bed, still not really having decided I was going to sleep. Then I turned off the light and was out in about five seconds. I’d set an alarm to be up in time for me to get back to the pool for Elder with flex enough that I got to see some of Bridge City Sinners’ goth-bluegrass, which was a good time, even if the singer seemed let down by the audience response. It was just starting to ‘cool off,’ so I got where both she and the crowd in front of the stage were coming from. Even having slept, I would hardly call myself up to full speed. And maybe it was a bad time to go off my meds after all. I don’t know.
Elder were next, and I’ll do you the favor of sparing you the music-as-magic-because-they-made-it-rain thing. I mean, yes, obviously that’s what happened, I just feel stupid writing about it. They weren’t through “Compendium” before it started coming down. As noted, they’ll be at the Dawg House — one of the many venue-type places nestled into the mall-ish area; I stumbled on it earlier — but yeah. I was on my way to catch Salem’s Bend who were on before Kadabra at the Redtail. I’d thought about hitting Eyehategod back at the pool and Midnight are Midnight, but there was no way I was going to make it. Death would occur. I got to see two bands I’d never seen before in Salem’s Bend and Kadabra, and that felt like a win, which I also kind of feel obligated to point out because some of the comments I got yesterday or whenever that was were a little off-putting, like I’m not enjoying myself. Well, I was getting on a fucking airplane. What’s enjoyable about that? Even if you’re looking forward to where you’re going, you have to get there first.
Psycho Las Vegas is really, really, really big. Yeah, there’s your pullquote — you’re welcome. I’m media! But even compared to when I was out here in 2018 and it was at the Hard Rock, it’s mammoth. Today there were four stages that had stuff going at various points. Tomorrow is six, and it starts at noon and it ends at 2:45AM and you could never see it all — they rightly call it a ‘choose your adventure’ festival — but it’s fun to try if completely overwhelming. I think that’s the idea. I think maybe it’s supposed to be fun. Sounds weird, I know.
But you have to understand the scale of the thing. This morning, looking at the schedule for the next four days, it was like I was staring down a tidal wave or maybe more appropriately a sandstorm since we’re in the desert, and I hardly feel any different about that now that the day is over. However big you’re thinking it is, it’s bigger. It’s more on the scale of SXSW Music than a regular one- or two-stage fest. More like getting around a city.
I was ready for Kadabra when they went on, following the heavy boogie of Salem’s Bend, whose guitarist had a very proud aunt in the crowd and whose bassist opted to go without pants, presumably being fresh out of the pool. Good fun all around, and Kadabra followed it well, with a more drawn out, fuzzier take that still reminds me of the first Mars Red Sky record. Their Ultra album came out last year on Heavy Psych Sounds and was a gem that I thought didn’t get enough love. Having seen them live, now I know that’s the case. First smiling drummer I saw all day, and maybe a win on tone as well, but it was the melody, depth of tone and the swinging groove that had me locked in. All of that coming together in a languid nodder psychedelia given just enough push to keep rolling downhill? Sign me up forever. Or at least for the next album.
Between the pizza joint, the Mexican place, the vegan place and the breakfast place, the nearest I got to a caesar salad was the hamburger-with-chipotle-dressing thing I ate a bit ago. Not something I’d likely order on a normal day — I have increasing trouble trusting red meat when I don’t know where it comes from — but glorious and quickly consumed for all that. My head has already started thinking about the long day that tomorrow will be, and that’s a good thing, but today was an interesting one. The heat, the sun and fatigue, disorientation, dreadful sobriety, and so on, were a drag at various points, but the music sounds good and it’s… fun. Still feels kind of strange to say that.
Tomorrow is the first day of the festival proper. I’m lonely but holding up. I’ve got Dreadnought, Stinking Lizaveta and Hippie Death Cult as one-two-three first thing in the afternoon, and coffee to find before that. First sleep.
