Posted in Reviews on December 20th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
When it was announced by El Paraiso Records earlier this Fall, it was suggested that Dens might be the final release from Danish instrumentalist trio Edena Gardens, who feature in their ranks drummer Jakob Skøtt and bassist/baritone guitarist Martin Rude and Nicklas Sørensen of Papir. The project is one of a slew in the orbit of Causa Sui and El Paraiso, which has become an ecosystem of sometimes-jazzy psych and heavy psych, with exploration as a core value uniting the works released under its banner no less than the themed layouts of the albums being issued.
That said, Edena Gardens has stood out both for quick turnarounds — their self-titled debut (review here) came out in Oct. 2022, and they followed with Agar (review here) earlier this year and still had room to put out the Live Momentum (review here) concert-capture LP, which if this is really it for them one will be glad to have for the documentation — and Dens brings seven pieces spread gracefully across 47 minutes brimming with mellow-psych meander. In Edena Gardens and in his own band, Sørensen has demonstrated again and again an ability to keep solid footing in a molten and shifting context, and whether it’s the brief drone-laced pastoral drift of “Vini’s Lament” (titled in honor of Vini Reilly of The Durutti Column) or the way “Morgensol” takes a conceptual cue from raga and sets itself not toward conveying the energy of the day but the slow-motion manner in which the sun hoists itself above the horizon.
If the first album was Eden — and it wasn’t at the time, but we’re all friends here, you and I, and we’re just talking, and maybe sometimes you want to make a revision so you can someday do a special 4LP box set or some such — and the second Agar, then Dens is the missing syllable to complete the band’s name spelled across their titles: EdenAgarDens. As the third in a maybe-trilogy, then, its shimmering resonance is leant that much more gravitas, but gravity doesn’t really apply here. “Morgensol” runs nine minutes long and is serene throughout, and while the organ and more active drumming in the crescendo of the 14-minute penultimate cut “Sienita” fuels a movement that is vibrant and energetic, Edena Gardens aren’t aiming for impact so much as ambience in terms of the general balance of what they do. Through opener “Wald” (‘forest,’ in Danish) and breeze that seems to blow “Dusted” along its light tumble, seeming to build some tension around three minutes in but resisting the impulse to break out volume-wise, the trio hypnotize in a way that feels multi-tiered, like they’re in it as much as the listener — the very epitome of ‘dug in’ — but if they ever actually get lost at any point, I can’t find where.
CausaSui‘s Jonas Munk engineered the recording and Skøtt produced — careful hands, is what that tells you — and it’s pretty clear there’s been some level of editing done, which is to say there are fades in and out and pieces like “Vini’s Lament” or the slightly-fuzzier-in-its-leads “An Uaimh Bhinn” (referencing a cave in Scotland) that separates “Morgensol” and “Sienita” were likely carved out of larger improvisations, whereas “Sienita,” reportedly, is the front-to-back live jam with only the aforementioned organ overdubbed.
It’s academic, ultimately, to most who will take on Dens or any other of Edena Gardens‘ output past or right-timeline future, but not at all irrelevant to the vibe, which it doesn’t take long to figure out is high on the priority list here, generally speaking. “Sienita,” named for a type of volcanic rock, unfolds with casual wistfulness early, the drums at a slow march, but takes off gradually as it goes and builds to a first head before the halfway point and recedes again to let the second build start from the ground as it meanders into a payoff that feels like it’s maybe speaking to more than just this record but the cycle of three of which this is part.
And maybe, if Edena Gardens do manage to put a batch of jams/songs-carved-therefrom together after Dens it will inherently feel different just because of some imaginary border between what’s their third and fourth full-lengths. I don’t know and when you’re locked into “Sienita,” it hardly matters. It is a worthy moment for mindful hearing, not the least because it isn’t perfect and isn’t trying to convince anyone it is. It is simply that 14 minutes of playing, represented.
Which of course is nothing so simple. Involved in that, and one might argue emphasized here in terms of the position ahead of closer “Dawn Daydreams,” which is nine minutes shorter than “Sienita” and the second inclusion to reference sunrise behind “Morgensol,” is the chemistry shared between Rude and Skøtt and Sørensen and the organic nature of the jam itself. It’s heady stuff, and one must perhaps be willing to grant that jazz- and krautrock-informed light-touch psychedelic instrumentals might not be a universal appeal — rest assured, it’s the universe’s problem — but Edena Gardens in about the span of a year went from being nothing to having an identifiable sonic persona distinct from both Causa Sui and Papir, the two acts from whom its membership draws.
One such record was not a minor achievement. Two felt like a bonus. The live record, well shit, if they’re gonna be on stage, then yeah. And this? I don’t want to call it a victory lap, because it’s too classy to rub your face in its own achievement, but maybe a celebration of the core collab that makes it up, at least, or a potential project sendoff — and nobody’s saying ‘never again’ here to start with — as well as a completion to the arc that was set out by the band. At the very, very least, it is a collection of thoughtful, malleable and immersive tracks put together by artists whose joy for the process(es) of its making resonates as clearly as Sørensen‘s lead lines in the dappled shimmer of “Wald.” If it’s to be a culmination, then yes, it is.
Posted in Reviews on November 10th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
One of European heavy psychedelia’s most essential acts, Danish instrumentalist four-piece Causa Sui last released a live album in 2017’s Live in Copenhagen (review here), and six years between them seems like more than enough for an outfit so vibrant. The narrative (blessings and peace upon it) holds that guitarist Jonas Munk, drummer Jakob Skøtt, keyboardist Rasmus Rasmussen and bassist Jess Kahr recorded Loppen 2021 at the renowned Christiania venue named in its title on Sept. 11, 2021, the same week Denmark lifted its covid lockdown. And if you ever wanted to hear that manifest into sound, the kick-in of “Homage” captured here should do the job nicely, even before the organ shows up. Playing to a crowd of 400, Causa Sui left behind the jazzy explorations of their most recent studio LP, 2020’s Szabodelico (review here) and offshoot projects, solo work and collaborations to solidify around what their own label El Paraiso Records once used to call ‘Freedom Fuzz’ when it printed the slogan on trucker hats a decade ago.
Heady considerations of aesthetic? Well, yeah, they’re still there. I mean, it’s Causa Sui — as deep as you want to listen, they’ll meet you on that level — but the vibe here is more casual, perhaps relieved given the context. Causa Sui have never been a road-dog kind of band, and because of that, one assumes that whatever money they make comes from all those fancy records they sell through El Paraiso, but in the 16-minute take on “Ju-Ju Blues” from 2013’s Euporie Tide (discussed here) and in the dulcet, lightly Western ramble of the guitar in “Under the Spell” from Szabodelico, the swirl of effects that rises as “Mondo Buzzo” sloughs into its midsection, soon enough with its guitar solo drawn in, they sound genuinely immersed in the moment.
Maybe that’s me reading into the story I’ve been told about the record. That happens. I’m not sure that makes the energy of Loppen 2021 any less palpable as Causa Sui take eight select pieces from out of their storied and sprawling 18-year catalog for an 81-minute set that, yes, sees the band present their material in its full dynamic range, with the buzzy gotta-jam-now urgency that starts opener “The Juice” flowing smoothly into the subdued dream-keys in “Mondo Buzzo,” which follows, and on from there. “The Juice” and the aforementioned “Ju-Ju Blues” — penultimate to the perma-closer “El Paraiso,” which was on their 2005 self-titled debut — as well as “Mireille” and “Homage” are from Euporie Tide, which makes four out of eight inclusions, where Szabodelico only has “Under the Spell” and the prior 2017 studio LP, Vibraciones Doradas (review here), just “El Fuego”; though, I say “just” there and the track is 11 minutes long.
Still, the lesson of that is Loppen 2021 isn’t a show the band were playing because they were trying to promote a thing — at least not any more than everybody is trying to promote a thing anytime they do anything; they’re probably not going to fight you if you try to buy a t-shirt or some vinyl — so much as revel in the spirit of that moment and celebrate the not-at-all-simple fact of their ability to be on a stage again. They’re not the only outfit to emerge from the no-live-music portion of the covid pandemic with a live record, but the intention is so resonant, they’re so dug in, and the set is so rock-based — which sounds funny thinking of Causa Sui as a heavy band, but from improv jams to jazzy collaborations, they could have gotten up there and done just about anything they wanted — that the show-as-catharsis storyline can’t help but fit. To wit, the held organ notes in the build as “El Fuego” moves past its middle and comes to life like the ’60s never ended and it was a secret but you just found out, or “Mireille” breezes through its cyclical sans-vocals chorus ahead of the all-in finish of “Ju-Ju Blues” (16:22) and “El Paraiso” (12:21), both of which underscore the resounding and floating nature of their energies.
Part of what one might appreciate about any given Causa Sui release is the sense of exploration that’s so endemic to their approach, the fact that they seem to make weighted tones step lightly, blending ideas classic, modern and futuristic into a take that has evolved from its mid-aughts European heavy rock foundations — still audible in “El Paraiso” and elsewhere, for sure — into something the band’s own and the basis of an oeuvre fostered through their label in their own output and that of others. I don’t know what it might’ve been like to be at this show — Causa Sui are a bucket-list band for me — but as Munk solos over the roundabout crashes at the crescendo of “Ju-Ju Blues,” the impetus to find out is laid bare. They crash and stop, then follow the organ line’s mellow swagger to the end, which is greeted with well justified howls.
And baby, when that “El Paraiso” strum hits, there’s nowhere to go but out of your own head. On a technical level, Causa Sui are masters of their respective crafts, and “El Paraiso” is the moment on Loppen 2021 where they truly underscore the “we’re back” message, but with a “we” that goes beyond themselves to include the audience present and, by extrapolation, the listener at home. Whoever decided this would be publicly released, whenever that decision was made, the result is a lush and vivid encapsulation of Causa Sui‘s more rocking side and a deeper experience because of how the music is used in hindsight to tell the story of the moment the recording was made.
No doubt the band could take you track-by-track through each miniscule, unnoticeable-to-anyone-else flub, but this is what live heavy music is all about, in terms of the band’s chemistry and the notion of a given night, a given show, as a fleeting thing not to come again. It is to the benefit of all who take it on that Loppen 2021 exists, and if you’d point out the rare nature of an act whose third live album ends up being one of their most essential and evocative offerings, well yeah, that’s kind of what I’ve been saying this whole time. There’s only one Causa Sui. Established fans and newcomers alike should have no trouble after hearing this in extrapolating just how much that means.
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 25th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
I like that Edena Gardens basically go, “Yeah, maybe this’ll be the last record or maybe not.” If I’d already put out a self-titled debut (review here) and the follow-up, Agar (review here) and put together a third LP for release — that’s Dens, out Dec. 1 as per the headline above — between 2022 and 2023, I might be somewhat cautious too. If they’re thinking of these three records as a trilogy — they might want to rename the first one Eden for subsequent pressings if they’re using the four-letter-words-from-the-band’s-name as a uniting theme — that’s fine, but they’ve already also done a live album (review here), so they’re not necessarily limited by anything other than what they themselves impose.
Dens is the third Edena Gardens LP. If it’s the last one, well, the collaborative outfit formed by Jakob Skøtt (drums) and Martin Rude (baritone and bass guitar) of Causa Sui and Papir guitarist Nicklas Sørensen didn’t owe anyone anything when they started and they certainly don’t now. If it’s not the last one, and maybe a fourth surfaces sometime in the vast unknowable future, be it six months, six years or whatever, I have no doubt the explorations will continue to resonate as they have through their efforts to-date.
“Veil” in the video below comes from Agar. I haven’t found any a/v from Dens yet but I’m sure both that and preorders are coming. El Paraiso Records knows what’s up, so keep an eye out.
From the PR wire:
Edena Gardens: Dens
Members of Papir & Causa Sui finalise Edena Gardens trilogy.
Formats: CD/LP (600 copies) / Digital Download Release date: December 1st, 2023
True to El Paraiso fashion, Dens concludes a trilogy of albums, aptly spelling out the last third of the group’s name. And true to form, the band turns inwards rather than outwards, drawing on deep shades of ambient, slowcore, and the ghost of Mark Hollis. While maintaining their psychedelic edge, the trio weaves the lines between genres in a way that’s becoming a signature of its own. Never in a hurry, but always moving somewhere.
Causa Sui drummer Jakob Skøtt & Martin Rude’s bass and baritone guitar lay out a robust yet fleeting foundation. Papir’s Nicklas Sørensen’s glistening guitar lines never felt more free and explorative. While The Durutti Column tribute Vini’s Lament is drenched in nostalgia, a cut like Morgensol (Morning Sun in Danish) explodes in Popol Vuh-esque gloomy euphoria.
Engineered by Jonas Munk & produced by Jakob Skøtt, the album culls hours of free improvisation into a coherent size. Seamless edits and studio wizardry enhance the feeling of an almost narrative nature as the album progresses. Invoking anything from a crackling campfire, rattling bones, and the singing of sand dunes. The culmination lies in the 14-minute track Sienita. A fully formed blistering improvisation, abandoning any studio trickery, besides a singly dubbed organ, rising and falling like the tide.
Is Dens the final chapter of Edena Gardens? Who knows, and who cares… Edena Gardens is all about the present anyway.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 12th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Immediate no brainer. New Causa Sui live album. Done. Fine. It exists? Great, I want to hear it. The Danish heavy psych mainstays will release Loppen 2021 through their own El Paraiso Records imprint on Sept. 29 — which is this friggin’ month! — and even before you get to the part about the band ‘exploring eight epic fan-favourites’ or the record presenting some of the band’s ‘heaviest, most psychedelic tunes’ or the fact that it was recorded at Loppen in the semi-anarchist Christiania area of Copenhagen just post-lockdown, there’s enough here to motivate based on concept alone. Causa Sui, doing a thing. Yes, you can go ahead and sign me up for that.
This came in with the Futuropaco news that went up yesterday, but I wanted to give each thing its own space. If you’re a Causa Sui fan, I have to think you’ve already clicked off to go preorder the thing, or at least stopped reading to check out the track at the bottom of this post. In any case, I don’t blame you. Onward.
From the PR wire:
Catalog number: EPR073LP Format: 2LP (1000 copies on coloured “ecomix” vinyl, includes download card) Release date: September 29th 2023
Double LP set capturing some of Causa Sui’s heaviest, most psychedelic tunes recorded live at Loppen – a legendary Copenhagen venue, located in the famous – and infamous – Freetown Christiania commune. This is the sound of Causa Sui at their home turf, stretching out and exploring eight epic fan-favourites from their entire catalogue in front of a small crowd of 400 people in a packed sold-out venue. The show was recorded the first week that Covid restrictions were lifted on venues in Denmark, which called for an especially buzzing night, even for a band that has exclusively played no more than a handful of shows each year since their 2005 debut.
Each Causa Sui show is unique. Here we’re offered a different perspective of the band’s music – it’s looser, more free-flowing, and some tracks are warped into something far from their original versions, bouncing off the wooden beams on the low ceiling of Loppen with renewed energy. At one point you can hear the band calling to take a breather and let some air inside the sauna-like temperature of the show, which just weeks before seemed impossible. Loppen 2021 offers a complete set from start to finish, so since chances that you’ll catch the band live in person are slim, this is the next best thing.
Mixed and mastered by Jonas Munk. Edition of 1000 copies on coloured ecomix vinyl. Includes download card.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 11th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
A little undercurrent of Afrobeat in “Tirannia Velata,” the new streaming track from Futuropaco that you can hear below, and that fits with the song’s purported protest ethic. Justin Pinkerton (Glass Parallels, ex-Golden Void, etc.) continues Futuropaco‘s instrumentalist exploration, with synthy flourish surrounding wah guitar and jazzy drums and his new album, Fortezza di Vetro Vol. 1, will be out through respected purveyor El Paraiso Records.
It’s trippy either way, and its linear groove got me hooked into that synth thread, so yeah, I’m posting the preorder link. If you’re feeling adventurous or like something that isn’t just riffs (blessings and peace upon riffs), this might be a way to go. I wouldn’t expect “Tirannia Velata” to speak for the whole of Fortezza di Vetro Vol. 1, let alone any subsequent volumes, but it does represent the open nature of the project well and is immersive besides. You don’t lose out by hearing it, is what I’m saying.
Catalog number: EPR074 Formats: CD/LP (1000 LPs on black vinyl, includes download card) Release date: October 13th 2023
First new sounds from Futuropaco in five years. Futuropaco, a.k.a. Justin Pinkerton from Oakland, California creates colourful psychedelic music – a pan-cultural cratedigger’s delight that welcomes in a wide range of elements – from afro-beat and post rock to Italian library music and heavy psych.
The title translates to “The Glass Fortress” and is a reference to the fragility of the superpowers of the world, such as the US: “As we witnessed in the height of the pandemic and its after effects, it doesn’t take much to take down one of these entities that hide behind the facade of power and indestructibility. One tiny crack can trigger an unstoppable catastrophe.” says Pinkerton of the album concept. “Though Futuropaco songs are instrumental I tend to channel my feelings about politics and the world through them. Unfortunately, the world can be a terrible place at times, so there is a sort of dark, at times angry, theme to these songs. But, instead of writing lyrics to convey those feelings, I just let the music do the talking.”
But despite (or perhaps because of) it’s underlying dark inception, Justin’s new album is a terrific ride, from the first notes of earth-shaking opener “Muro Vuoto” to the mysterious and dreamy closer “Omicidio Per Soldi”. Not a second is wasted on this record, every vinyl groove is packed with ideas and sounds that demand attention, whether they originate from Justin’s vintage Moog synthesizers, his Turkish Saz, fuzz guitars or flute layered on top of Pinkerton’s meticulously crafted, yet bone shaking drum fills. You could spend hours analysing what’s going on musically, but that’s beside the point – the nine tracks offered here are simply an invitation to surrender yourself to the head-spinning grooves and mesmerizing timbres. A truly unique psychedelic experience, and this is just volume 1!
I’m drinking coffee out of a different mug today. It may not surprise you to learn that I’m particular about that kind of thing. I have two mugs — one from Baltimore, one from Salem, Mass. — that are the same. They are huge, blue and black, and they curve slightly inward at the top. They can hold half of a 10-cup pot of coffee. I use one of them per day for a pot in the morning.
Not today. The Pecan gifted me a Mr. Spock mug — he’s in his dress uniform, so it’s likely based on the TOS episode ‘Journey to Babel,’ where we meet his parents for the first (our time) time — and it’s smaller and lighter in the hand, will require an extra trip up to the kitchen to finish the pot, but I think she’ll be glad to see me use it, and maybe that’ll help her get a decent start to the day in a bit when she comes downstairs.
Today’s the last day for this week of QR, but we dive back in on Monday and Tuesday to close out. Hope you find something you dig, and if I don’t catch you at the closeout post for the week, have a great weekend.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Motorpsycho, Yay!
Long-running and prolific Norwegian prog rockers Motorpsycho have proven time and again their stylistic malleability across their north-of-100-strong catalog of releases, and comprised of 10 tracks running 42 minutes of acoustic-led-but-still-lushly-arranged, melodic and sometimes folkish craft. If you ever needed an argument that Motorpsycho could have been writing simplified, ultra-accessible, soundtrack-to-your-summer fare — and I’m not sure you have — Yay! provides that, with a classic feel in the harmonies of “Sentinels” and “Dank State,” though the lyrics in that last cut and in pieces like the leadoff “Cold & Bored,” the later isolated strummer “Real Again (Norway Shrugs and Stays at Home)” and in the lost-love-themed “Loch Meaninglessness and the Mull of Dull” have a cynical current to their framing contrasts that the outwardly pretty face lent to it by the Paul Simon-style lead vocals from Bent Sæther (also guitar, mandolin, omnichord here and more elsewhere). If the record is a gimme for an audience looking for a more earthbound Motorpsycho, then the arrival of the 7:46 “Hotel Daedalus” is where they give a nod to the heavier heads in their fanbase, with one of several guest spots from Reine Fiske (Dungen, Träden, etc.) and a shift in the balance between electric and acoustic guitar and synth at the foreground. Standout as that is, it’s also consistent with the spirit of Yay! more generally, which is built to be more complex in emotion than it presents on its face, and the work of masters, whether they’re writing longform prog epics or sweet closer “The Rapture,” which paints the change of seasons through an image of unmelted leftover snow “sulking in the shade.” One should expect no less than that kind of reach and attention to expression, and one should never engage Motorpsycho with expectations beyond that.
“Apollo,” which was the first single released by Severed Satellites, opens the Baltimore instrumentalists’ first EP, Aphelion, as well, its uptempo blues-informed groove an enticing beginning before “Lost Transmissions” digs further into riffer nod. With five tracks running 27 minutes, Severed Satellites — guitarist Matt Naas, keyboardist Dave Drell, bassist Adam Heinzmann and drummer Chuck Dukehart, the latter two both of heavy rockers Foghound, among others — offer material that’s built out of jamming but that is not itself the jam. Songs, in other words. Recorded by Noel Mueller at Tiny Castle Studio, the EP proves solid through “Lost Transmissions” and the bassier “Hurtling Toward Oblivion” with its ending comedown leading into the coursing keyboard waveform at the start of “Breaking Free From Orbit,” which is the longest inclusion at 7:21 and uses most of that extra time in the intro, building afterward toward a ’70s strutting apex that puts energy ahead of largesse before the keys lead the way out in the two-minute outro “Reaching Aphelion.” Through the variety in the material, Severed Satellites showcase a persona that knows what it’s about and presents that fluidly to the listener with a minimum of indulgence. A rousing start.
The collaboration between baritone/bass guitarist Martin Rude, drummer Jakob Skøtt, both also of Danish psych-jazz and psych-as-jazz explorers Causa Sui, and guitarist Nicklas Sørensen of molten-but-mellow jammers Papir, Edena Gardens issue their first and perhaps not last live album in Live Momentum, a three-song set taped at Jaiyede Jazz Festival — their first onstage appearance — in 2022 and pressed concurrent to the second Edena Gardens studio full-length, Agar (review here) while still not so far removed from their 2022 self-titled debut (review here). “Veil” from the sophomore LP opens, with a thicker guitar sound and more active delivery from the stage, a heavier presence in the guitar early on, hinting at Link Wray and sounding clear enough that the applause at the end is a surprise. Taken from the self-titled, “Now Here Nowhere” is more soothing and post-rocking in its languidity — also shorter at seven minutes — an active but not overbearing jazz fusion, while side B’s 17-minute “Live Momentum” would seem to be the occasion for the release. Exploratory at the start, it settles into a groove that’s outright bombastic in comparison to the other two tracks, brings down the jam and pushes it out, growing in volume again late for a slow, howling finish. What should be a no-brainer to those who’ve heard the band, Live Momentum portrays a side of Edena Gardens that their ‘proper’ albums — which is also where new listeners should begin — hasn’t yet shown, which is no doubt why it was issued to start with. Only fortunate.
Following up 2022’s What Lies Beneath (review here) and the intervening covers collection, Cover Ups, and the Crack the Lock EP, prolific Pennsylvania heavy rock outfit Delco Detention, led by the son/father duo of Tyler and Adam Pomerantz return with their Come and Get It! is suitably exclamatory fashion. The nine-track collection is headlined by a guest guitar spot from Earthless‘ Isaiah Mitchell on “Earthless Delco” near the album’s middle, but stop-bys from familiar parties like Kevin McNamara and Mike DiDonato of The Age of Truth and Jared Collins of Mississippi Bones, among others, assure diversity in the material around the foundation of groovy heavy rock. Clutch remain a strong influence — and the record finishes with a take on “I Have the Body of John Wilkes Booth” — but the fuzzy four minutes of the penultimate “Rock and Roll God” and the swing in opener “Domagoj Simek Told Me Quitters Never Smoke” continue to show the band’s growth in refining their songwriting process and aligning the right performers with the right songs, which they do.
The second full-length from Montana heavy-funk shenanigans purveyors The Gray Goo, Circus Nightmare, sounds like there’s a story to go along with every song, whether it’s the tale of “Nightstocker” no doubt based on a 24-hour grocery store, or the smoke-weed-now anthem “Pipe Hitter” that so purposefully and blatantly takes on Sleep‘s “Dragonaut,” or even the interlude “Cerulean” with its backward wisps of guitar leading into the dreamy-Ween-esque, Beatles-reference-dropping “Cosmic Sea,” or the Primus-informed absurdity of “Alligator Bundee,” which leads off, and the garage punk that caps in “Out of Sight (Out of Mind).” Equal parts brilliant and dopey, “BEP” is a brief delve into surf-toned weirdness while “Wizards of the Mountain” pays off the basement doom of “Pipe Hitter” just before with its raw-captured slowdown, organ included in its post-midpoint creep and “Cumbia de Montana” is perhaps more dub than South American-style mountain jamming — though there’s a flute — but if you want to draw a line and tell me where one ends and another starts, I won’t argue. Bottom line is that after an encouraging start in last year’s 1943 (review here), The Gray Goo are more sure of themselves and more sure of the planet’s ridiculousness. May they long remain so certain and productive. Heavy rock needs more oddballs.
It’s like they packed it with extra nasty. The seven-song/27-minute Shit Hexis is the debut offering from Saarbrücken, Germany’s Shit Hexis, and it stabs, it scathes, it skin-peels and not in the refreshing way. Flaying extreme sludge riffs presented with the cavernous echo and murky purposes of black metal, it is a filthy sound but not completely un-cosmic as “Latrine Odins” feedsback and lumbers through its 92 seconds, or “Erde” drone-plods at terrifying proportion. On paper, Shit Hexis share a mindset with the likes of Come to Grief or even earlier Yatra in bringing together tonal weight with aesthetics born out of the more extreme ends of heavy metal, but their sharp angles, harsh tones and the echoing rasp of “Le Mort Saisit le Vif” are their own. Not that fucking matters, because when you’re this disaffected you probably don’t give a shit about originality either. But as their first release of any kind, even less than a half-hour of exposure seems likely to cause a reaction, and if you’re ever somewhere that you need people not to be, the misanthropic, loathing-born gurgling of “Mkwekm” should do the trick in clearing a room. This, of course, is as the duo of guitarist/vocalist Mo and drummer Pat designed it to be, and so, wretched as it is, their self-titled can only be called a success. But what a vision thereof.
That Sacramento, California, two-piece Oromet — guitarist/vocalist/layout specialist Dan Aguilar and drummer/bassist/synthesist/backing vocalist/engineer Patrick Hills — have a pedigree between them that shares time in Occlith accounts for some of the unity of intent on the grandly-unfolding death-doom outfit’s self-titled three-song Transylvanian Recordings debut full-length. Side A is dedicated solely to the opener/longest track (immediate points) “Familiar Spirits” (22:00), which quiets down near the finish to end in a contemplative/reflective drone, and earlier positions Oromet among the likes of Dream Undending or Bell Witch in an increasingly prevalent, yet-untagged mournful subset of death-doom. “Diluvium” (11:31) and “Alpenglow” (10:07) follow suit, the former basking in the beauty in its own darkness and sounding duly astounded as it pounds its way toward a sudden stop to let the residual frequencies swell before carrying into the latter, which is gloriously tortured for its first six minutes and comes apart slowly thereafter, having found a place to dwell in the melodic aftermath. Crushing spiritually even as it reaffirms the validity of that pain, it is an affecting listening experience that can be overwhelming at points, but its extremity never feels superfluous or disconnected from the sorrowful emotionality of the songs themselves.
Each of the four tracks of Le Mur‘s fourth record, Keep Your Fear Away From Me, corresponds to a place in time and point of view. That is, we start in the past with 15-minute leadoff “…The Past Will Be Perfect…” — and please note that the band’s name is also stylized all-caps where album and song titles are all-lowercase — moving through “Today is the Day/The Beauty of Now” (9:27) in the present and “Another Life/Burning the Tree/I See You” (11:19) confirming the subjectivity of one’s experience of self and the world, and closer “…For the Puzzles of the Future.” (12:12) finishing the train of thought by looking at the present from a time to come. Samples peppered throughout add to the otherwise mostly instrumental proceedings, focused on flow and at least semi-improvised, and horns on the opener/longest cut (immediate points) sets a jazzy mindset that holds even as “Another Life/Burning the Tree/I See You” forays through its three-stage journey, starting with a shimmy before growing ever-so-slightly funky in the middle and finishing acoustic, while the (electric) guitar on “…For the Puzzles of the Future.” seems to have saved its letting loose for the final jam, emerging out of the keyboardy intro and sample to top a raucous, fun finish.
Pushing through sax-laced, dug-in space jamming, Tunisia’s 10-20 Project reportedly recorded Snakes Go Dark to Soak in the Sun during the pandemic lockdown, perhaps in a bid just to do anything during July 2020. Removed from that circumstance, the work of the core duo of guitarist Marwen Lazaar and bassist Dhia Eddine Mejrissi as well as a few friends — drummer Manef Zoghlemi, saxophonist Ghassen Abdelghani and Mohammed Barsaoui on didgeridoo — present a three-track suite that oozes between liquid and vaporous states of matter across “Chutney I” (25:06), “Chutney II” (14:32) and “Chutney III” (13:00), which may or may not have actually been carved out of the same extended jam. From the interweaving of the sax alongside the guitar in the mix of the opener through the hand-drumming in the middle cut and “Chutney III” picking up with an active rhythm after the two pieces prior took their time in building quietly, plus some odd vocalizations included for good measure, the 52-minute outing gets its character from the exploratory meld in their arrangements and the loose nature with which they seem to approach composition generally. It is not a challenge to be entranced by Snakes Go Dark to Soak in the Sun, as even 10-20 Project seem to have been during its making.
If one assumes that “Side A” (19:58) and “Side B” (20:01) of Landing‘s are the edited-down versions of what appeared as part of the Connecticut ambient psych troupe’s Bandcamp ‘Subscriber Series Collection 02’ as “Motionless I-III” (29:56) and “Motionless IV-VI” (27:18), then perhaps yes, the Sulatron Records-issued Motionless I-VI has been markedly altered to accommodate the LP format. The (relatively) concise presentation, however, does little to undercut either the floating cosmic acoustics and drones about halfway through the first side or the pastoral flight taken in “Side B” before the last drone seems to devour the concept with especially cinematic drama. Whereas when there are drums in “Side A” the mood is more krautrock or traditional space rock, the second stretch of Motionless I-VI is more radical in its changes while still being gentle in its corner turning from one to the next, as heard with the arrival of the electric guitar that fades in at around six and a half minutes and merrily chugs through the brightly-lit serenity of what might’ve at some point been “Motionless V” and here is soon engulfed in a gradual fade that brings forward the already-mentioned drone. There’s more going on under the surface than at it — and that dimension of mix is crucial to Landing‘s methodology — but Motionless I-VI urges the listener to appreciate each element in its place, and is best heard doing that.
[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.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on February 24th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
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.
