Hamburg, Germany’s Karla Kvlt make their full-length debut through Exile on Mainstream Records on Feb. 21 with the seven-song sprawl and crush of Thunderhunter. Beginning with the stark thud of Johann Victor Wientjes‘ drums and gradually building over its early measures into a noisy soundscape of atmospheric sludge in lead cut “Karma,” the 37-minute long-player brings together hard-crunch with psychedelic resonance, reverb lacing the vocals of Teresa Matilda Curtens, who’s also responsible for the low-end rumble beneath the guitar of Markus E. Lipka — beneath in frequency, not necessarily in the mix — who adds vocals to Curtens‘ own in a blown-out break toward the end of the song, lending avant flourish to the earlier melody.
It all comes crashing down and Thunderhunter is underway. Below, you’ll find a visualizer premiering for “Swallowed,” which follows the lumber-plod of “Temple” near the start of the record and holds together with almost jazzy purpose through urbane verses and a raw but lush lead tonality from Lipka. Known for his work in Eisenvater — which I hadn’t heard prior to getting this record, but it’s devastating — the guitarist brings a suitably open feel to “Swallowed,” which holds pretty loose in the rhythm as it moves into its second half, exploring while still writing structured songs. Samples of crackling fire precede the burst, and with the force of Big Riff behind, Karla Kvlt roll through the crescendo with marked purpose.
That transition is not jarring, but some of Thunderhunter is, and into that category I’d put centerpiece “Magna Mater” with the sample of a baby crying mixed into its nod, and that’s pretty clearly on purpose. And it’s all part of the thing. There’s complexity of style throughout, and an overarching airiness of tone gives the band ample space to fill as they chase down one aural idea or another, be it a riff, sample, synth or the deceptively intricate chug coinciding with the cries in “Magna Mater.” The subsequent “Mun Kvlta” begins calmer with synth and standalone guitar, but it’s not long before a low-distortion drone takes hold for a few minutes of texture-exploration. Something of a preface there for the closing title-track, in that it’s instrumental and more about ambience despite being heavy as buildings.
Before “Thunderhunter” though, the penultimate “Hekate” seems to be a special moment just to highlight the chug, which is monstrous, and create a feeling of intensity in the turns that are post-metallic but that are raw enough in their presentation to be coming from somewhere else. The good news is that the place they’re coming from is Karla Kvlt‘s own, and that if Thunderhunter is the beginning of a new journey this apparent family band are undertaking, they set out in noteworthy and forward-thinking fashion. One looks forward to hopefully learning the places to which their sound might ultimately go, but what you need to know going into “Swallowed” is don’t get distracted and keep your mind open. Decent advice generally, I guess.
Beyond that, you’ll find more info from the PR wire below, but honestly in my head it’s such a given that anything on Exile on Mainstream is going to be somehow awesome that Karla Kvlt as a new band are already a no-brainer in my head. That the band actually turn out to kill it across the record feels like a bonus.
Please enjoy:
Karla Kvlt, “Swallowed” track/visualizer premiere
Karla Kvlt on “Swallowed”:
With ‘Swallowed,’ you come imminently closer to a state of complete self-dissolution. The ominous sound design of the intro immediately evokes the feeling of being trapped in the belly of a nameless beast, rendered helpless at its mercy. Vocals and bass come more to the fore here and reinforce the mysterious and trance-like atmosphere. ‘Swallowed’ is an infernal dance that celebrates utter madness.
Thunderhunter will be released on LP w/ bundled CD and digitally on February 21st.
“Swallowed” is the new single from new German sludge metal/post-rock trio KARLA KVLT. The song is found on the band’s impending debut LP, Thunderhunter, nearing release this month through Exile On Mainstream Records.
KARLA KVLT marks the return of Markus E. Lipka, the driving guitar force behind 1990s German alternative/noise rock heroes Eisenvater, here joined by his son Johann Wientjes on drums and his daughter-in-law, Teresa Matilda Curtens, on bass and vocals – both also in Melting Palms. Together, the trio delivers a raw and monolithic debut album that is unique in style and approach with Thunderhunter.
KARLA KVLT is currently booking live ventures across Europe for the Spring and Summer months, having booked a Thunderhunter release show in Hamburg April 25th and a gig with labelmates Caspar Brötzmann Massaker in June. Additional live updates will follow shortly.
KARLA KVLT Live: 4/25/2025 Elbdeichstudio – Hamburg, DE *record release show 6/07/2025 Z-Bau – Nürnberg, DE w/ Caspar Brötzmann Massaker
Tracklisting: 1. Karma 2. Temple 3. Swallowed 4. Magna Mater 5. Mun Kvlta 6. Hekate 7. Thunderhunter
Recorded by Stefan Gretscher at Privatear studios in Hamburg/Germany Mixing by Nihil Rossburger Mastering by Chris von Rautenkranz at Soundgarden Studio Album cover design by Teresa Matilda Curtens
KARLA KVLT are: Markus E. Lipka – Guitars, Guitar Soundscapes, Voice Teresa Matilda Curtens – Bass, Vocals J. Victor Wientjes – Heavy Drums, Synth Soundscapes
UK heavy weirdo noise rock two-piece Noisepicker will put out their second album, The Earth Will Swallow the Sun, on March 21 through respected purveyor Exile on Mainstream. Aside from working with the label on the release, the band are pointedly DIY, as drummer Kieran Murphy and guitarist/vocalist Harry Armstrong — whose pedigree in Hangnail and End of Level Boss would be plenty even if he wasn’t also now a member of Orange Goblin — further demonstrate with the video premiering below for the album’s second single, “Chew.”
Second single and second track. In the album’s succession and in making its way to public ears, “Chew” follows behind “What You Deserve” in showcasing where The Earth Will Swallow the Sun is coming from. And where “What You Deserve” starts with an almost Steve Von Till-style throaty drawl ‘n’ drone before opening up to its bigger nod and answering the atmospheric tension in tonal spaciousness. It’s a slow roller on the surface, and with Armstrong‘s vocal delivery and the corresponding hum, it feels as much like a setup for what’s to follow throughout the 10-tracker as its own piece.
“Chew” reinforces that idea. With a sound that’s almost as ’90s noise rock as the band’s logo treatment on the front cover, the three-minute cut rides in on a harsher/harder tonalism and crunching groove. Melvins are an immediate touchstone in terms of sound, but “Chew” has a bit of reach in its chorus and is more about craft than its own weirder facets. The melody in the hook reaches up from deep in the mix with Facelift-era Alice in Chains desperation, and the shifts between the verse and chorus hint in sound toward the punkish ideology driving the shove. As songs go, it’s in and out, and surely “Tomorrow Lied the Devil,” which follows on the LP, will reap the benefit of the momentum it quickly and unpretentiously builds.
Sans-bullshit heavy crunch? With a chorus? I know; be still my beating heart. I haven’t heard all of The Earth Will Swallow the Sun at this point, and given the swath of ground they covered on 2018’s Peace Off, their first LP, I’m not about to speculate on sonic particulars or whims being chased. Fine. For today, take three minutes out of your life and appreciate a bit of puppetry and deceptively nuanced stylistic quirk.
Armstrong was kind enough to give some comment on the song and video, and the info for the record follows, as per the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Noisepicker, “Chew” video premiere
Harry Armstrong on “Chew”:
The two of us live on opposite sides of the country, which makes getting together tricky at times. To the point where we never rehearse. Apart from two songs, we had only played the entire new album together when we entered the studio to record it. And those two tracks were only ever played during soundcheck, an hour before we played them live. Which probably explains a lot! This means we need to be “inventive” when thinking about videos, basically making sure that we are not the main focus of them. We grab footage of each other when we can and store it up in case it’s needed. That’s where the puppet idea came from. I couldn’t get both of us in the same room, so I had to improvise. I think it actually makes for a better video! The song is about hating what you’ve become after chasing the expectations of an unfulfilling society, and only realizing you’ve been had when it’s far too late. You’ve been played. Like a puppet on a string. Enjoy!
British avant doom/post-rock duo NOISEPICKER prepares to release their second album, The Earth Will Swallow The Sun, March 21st via Exile On Mainstream Records.
With more than a quarter of a century of noise making history behind him, singer and guitarist Harry Armstrong returns. Known as the current bass player in Orange Goblin, Armstrong has been a part of delivering the hard rock of Blind River, the sludgy thrash metal of End Of Level Boss, the piano-led jazz rock of The Earls Of Mars, the stoner fix of Hangnail and alongside Bill Steer and Ludwig Witt in Firebird, the instrumental soundscapes of The Winchester Club, the death metal of Decomposed, and many others. Armstrong, alongside drummer Kieran Murphy, are NOISEPICKER.
Having released their first album, Peace Off, through Exile On Mainstream in 2018, other commitments (and the dreaded COVID-19 shutdown) put NOISEPICKER on a slight hiatus, until a stash of unused riff ideas were dusted off during 2024 to make what is about to be their second full-length release, The Earth Will Swallow The Sun. On a permanent search to constantly try “something else,” Armstrong has taken to writing, recording, and mixing this new record himself, just to see if he could accomplish the task. Recorded in a rehearsal room and mixed in his kitchen – assisted only in the mastering, which was handled by Stefan Brüggemann – it is an approach to music with a DIY ethic fully embedded in its heart.
Do not expect neat, polished, note perfect, carefully constructed opuses in this environment. NOISEPICKER is loud, abrasive, and in constant flux, influenced by their love of all things doom, punk, and blues. Come stare aghast at it.
Exile On Mainstream will release The Earth Will Swallow The Sun March 21st, digitally and on audiophile virgin Black Vinyl LP with a bundled CD.
The Earth Will Swallow The Sun Track Listing: 1. What You Deserve 2. Chew 3. Tomorrow Lied The Devil 4. Leave Me The Name 5. What Did You Think Was Going To Happen 6. The End Of The Beginning 7. Start The Flood 8. The Earth Will Swallow The Sun 9. Lorraine In Blood 10. Lunatics
All words & music by Noisepicker. Recorded and mixed by Noisepicker.
Band photo by Jerry Deeney.
Noisepicker, The Earth Will Swallow the Sun (2025)
Hamburg, Germany’s The Moth exist in a world without genre, and their fourth album, Frost — also their first release for the likemided Exile on Mainstream — argues that maybe you should to. The three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Freden Mohrdiek, bassist/vocalist Cécile Ash and drummer Christian “Curry” Korr debuted a decade ago with 2013’s They Fall, answered back in 2015 with And Then Rise (review here), and made a declarative statement of persona on 2017’s Hysteria (review here), each record marked by incremental growth in an increasingly distinct stylistic context. Frost may arrive six years after the third long-player and through a new label, but as The Moth step forward again with this 10-song/44-minute collection, the many strengths of their approach are on ready display, whether it’s the intensity of chug in “Me, Myself and Enemy,” the sad hookiness of “Hundreds” or the thud and crush that caps with “Silent.”
One is tempted, perpetually, to think of The Moth as ‘experimental,’ but the truth is more complex. They’re not banging on steel girders or inventing instruments. They’re not looping effects until the cosmos seems to melt. Guitar, bass, drums, and the shared vocals of Ash and Mohrdiek are all they need to make Frost unpredictable front to back. They’re like the best present that noise rock never knew it got. Expansive and rolling in the Melvinsian tradition before the blowout on the title-track, loosely playing toward, well, Cathedral on “Cathedral” (could also say Type O Negative there), and set forth with punk-born fervor in the salvo “My, Myself and Enemy,” “Birmingham,” “Battlefield” and “Bruised” just before, the two instances of alliteration likely coincidental, but an example just the same of the identity and character in their material. A band not only saying they’re doing their own thing, but actually living up to that standard. And fostering an emotional expression as well.
“Bruised” seems especially well placed since, by the time one gets there it’s a potentially apt descriptor. Of the first four songs, only “Birmingham” is over three minutes long, and so where a psychedelic band might try to draw the audience in with some hypnotic, repetitive meditation, The Moth head out at a relative sprint and put their most driving material up front. That’s not a universal, blanket truth, by the way — because one must remember, The Moth are multifaceted, and a given track might do more than one thing — but applicable as a generalization. Certainly the penultimate “Dust,” which was also the lead single from Frost, has a suitably brash shove in addition to one of the record’s most satisfying nods, and “In the City” just before is tense enough to make your stomach hurt if you let it, with its weirdo effects in the second half lead over the double-time hi-hat and jet-engine rhythm layers of guitar and bass. But there is a definite transition as “Cathedral” picks up from “Bruised,” and “Hundreds” leans into its grunge-ish chorus melody with Ash and Mohrdiek together on vocals to end side A with a due sense of landing.
And it’s not the last one as The Moth move into side B and the last four, mostly longer, songs on the album. The rumble at the start of “Frost” boasts aww-yuck-face tone in only the most righteous fashion, and the sludgy crash and lumber that ensues is a redirect from “Hundreds,” which also ends thudding but in kind of a ’80s-thrash-tape manner. The title-track is the longest song at 6:52, and grows more consuming as it works toward its eventual fade, with Mohrdiek and Ash swapping back and forth in the vocal arrangement when not both shouting. With “In the City” after, they assure that the strides and vibe established on side A aren’t lost — that energy that comes through as “Me, Myself and Enemy” opens, I mean — and while one would hardly call the tremolo picking of “Dust” soothing, there is an overarching flow as it gives over to the avant raw riffing and toms of “Silent,” which brings back that forward-in-the-mix guitar-as-keyboard (unless it’s just a keyboard) sound from “In the City” as if continuing a theme across the final three tracks, pulling them together as a band might when considering the whole-LP impression of a work as well as the songs that make it.
Maybe The Moth sit and planned all this out before they hit the studio, or maybe the whole thing is magic. It matters only academically. What’s more relevant in terms of the listening experience is that Frost was tracked live, in a day. It is a band-showed-up-and-played record, and part of its sonic appeal comes from that. I used the word ‘raw’ above to describe the tones and I’ll stand by it, but it’s worth highlighting that while much of Frost can indeed be barebones from a production standpoint, the material neither sounds opaque nor difficult to engage. Even as they cap “Silent,” they do so on a march and a drone rather than some grandiose ending that would be out of place. If that’s a conscious choice on their part or just what felt right, the end result is the same. The Moth continue their progressive trajectory in these songs and meet the span of years it’s been since their last offering with head-on force of craft and delivery.
The Moth – Track-by-Track Through Frost:
ME, MYSELF & ENEMY
Sometimes the enemy can be yourself. That holds true for the emotional and psychological side as well as the physical side when something in your body turns against you and threatens your health and life.
BIRMINGHAM
The song is about people who want to change themselves or something in their lives and, despite being very motivated, have to realize how difficult it sometimes is to stop feeding the demons within them.
BATTLEFIELD
This is about being let down and emotionally injured by a person that you felt closest to. And about not being able to show or talk about the injury. So you smile though inside you are full of grief and not able to share it with anyone (yet). This denying of your feelings is (maybe literally) like killing parts of yourself over and over again.
BRUISED
This is about preparing for a fight and not being afraid of it, though the enemy may be strong. Because some fights are just necessary. Catching a few hits or getting bruised doesn’t scare you, because you know that you’ll get through this and though you may be smaller, you’re stronger.
CATHEDRAL
Some periods in life we feel like the present and the future are especially uncertain. It’s like walking through a fog and we just have to have faith in ourself, each other and that the good in humanity will win over the bad. In those times we should turn towards the other or the others, show that we feel the same, take each other’s hands (sometimes metaphorically speaking) and get through this together.
HUNDREDS
This is about past relationships and breakups. If they have truely loved, ex-partners may somehow stay connected on some other level even though they were not meant to be together in this life.
FROST
Sometimes what you most wish for and have fought for so long, just doesn’t happen or something puts a definite end to that vision you had: it will never become reality. So where is that hope that you fostered for so long, so suddenly supposed to go? Having to give up hope on something that was extremely important to you is a huge loss. So going through the grief that this brings feels like walking through a sea of ice, through the frost. And if nobody is sharing the grief with you, you have to confront this pain and emptiness on your own. Until the end of the frost.
IN THE CITY
It’s about people that are alive and have a lust for life and are not afraid to show it. They have dressed up, look sharp and walk the streets at night to go to a concert or a party and just enjoy themselves. They are being watched by others, half fascinated, half uncomprehending. The others are more ordinary people, who like to keep it „normal“, people with dead eyes. In this particular case we were thinking about four women from the Birmingham area who have supported us since we first came to the UK and definitely made the nights more colourful: Emma, Emily, Jess and Vic. Emma and Emily are also singing alongside Cécile on the chorus of this track!
DUST
Two years ago I (Cécile) had breast cancer. During that time I often listened to Anita Moorjani who once had cancer herself and a near death experience. She is just so encouraging. She says cancer patients should not accept the word „remission“ (fear-based) but should reinterpret this word as a shortform for „remember your mission“ (love-based). Our purpose is, she says, to remember what we came here for, what our mission is. And our first mission is, to truly be ourselves.
SILENT
The song is about the certainty or hope that someone is there for you and looks after you in tough times and will give you a hand.
German doom/sludge metal trio THE MOTH prepares to release their monstrous fourth album, Frost, through Exile On Mainstream this Friday.
THE MOTH takes their approach to new heights with their fourth album, Frost. Catchy lines get stuck in the listener’s heart and mind like a dislodged meat hook, explaining why the band calls their style doom-sludge pop – “Kim Wilde-meets-Bolt Thrower” – or like a review for the 2017 album Hysteria put it: “pop music played with a bulldozer.” Lyrically, however, THE MOTH shows a new openness and vulnerability under the shell of raw power that the songs initially present. Experiencing and living through strokes of fate runs through the record as a recurring theme – all under a rough shell of distinctive and deliberately raw sound. Bassist/vocalist Cécile Ash, guitarist/vocalist Freden Mohrdiek, and drummer Curry Korr perform the dichotomy with a high recognition value. Boring riff hum and mantric stoner-esque repetition are not their thing.
Frost was recorded live in only 24 hours, the album recorded and mixed by José Lorenzo at Bombrec Recording, and then mastered by Timo Höcke at Die Wellenschmiede, and completed with artwork by Sarah Breen and layout by Cécile Ash. Emma Billingham and Emily Yardley provide additional vocals on “In The City.”
Frost will be released on September 22nd digitally and on 140-gram pure virgin Black Vinyl including a bundled CD. Find physical preorders at the Exile On Mainstream webshop HERE and digital at Bandcamp HERE.
THE MOTH has confirmed a string of release dates including shows with Thronehammer and labelmates Treedeon with more to be posted shortly.
THE MOTH Record Release Shows: 9/22/2023 Störtebecker – Hamburg, DE w/ Treedeon 10/03/2023 Alte Meierei – Kiel, DE w/ Thronehammer 10/04/2023 Fundbureau – Hamburg, DE w/ Thronehammer 10/05/2023 MTC – Cologne, DE w/ Thronehammer 10/06/2023 Immerhin – Wuerzburg, DE 10/07/2023 Keep It Low Festival – Munich, DE 11/17/2023 Thav – Hildesheim, DE w/ with Shakhtyor 11/18/2023 Die Trompete – Bochum, DE w/ Treedeon
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 21st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
New The Moth track is a banger. The PR wire info below has all the details you could want about the Hamburg-based trio’s upcoming fourth album and first for Exile on Mainstream, titled Frost, and I’d encourage you to by all means dig in and learn a bit of the background as you listen to/watch the video for “Dust.” Apocalyptic and thus almost woefully catchy, it’s a first taste of Frost, and its tones don’t strike as being particularly cold in its rolling groove derived (mathematically speaking, of course) from ’90s noise and given a melodic foundation in its verse that the repeated lyrics make that much more memorable.
This song was recorded live in a day — apparently that also applies to the entire album — and so if it feels raw, good. That’s what they’re going for. But they’re not just raw, or just any one thing. They really are the perfect Exile on Mainstream band, in that they’re able to do six things at once and be confoundingly complex while still coming across barebones and utterly cohesive. “Dust” deals lyrically with bassist/vocalist Cécile Ash‘s cancer experience, as she recounts below:
THE MOTH: German Doom Metal Trio Announces Details Of Fourth LP, Frost, Confirmed For September Release Via Exile On Mainstream; “Dust” Video + Preorders Posted
Exile On Mainstream presents Frost, the colossal fourth LP from German doom metal trio THE MOTH, confirming the album for September 22nd release alongside preorders and other details. With the news comes the record’s first single, a video for the song “Dust.”
After three albums on the fantastic This Charming Man label, THE MOTH now presents their label debut on Exile On Mainstream with Frost. Having honed their no-nonsense approach to sludge/doom metal on numerous tours and gigs, the band’s songs are virtually void of frills, instead opting to turn out hammer heavy drums and riff-heavy rock as brutal as it is bewitching. Since their acclaimed debut They Fall in 2013, the Hamburg trio has regularly delivered tracks with a catchiness that is surprising for the genre. Kim Wilde-meets-Bolt Thrower, as they call it themselves, or like a review for the 2017 album Hysteria put it: “pop music played with a bulldozer.”
THE MOTH now takes this approach to new heights with their fourth album, Frost. Catchy lines get stuck in the listener’s heart and mind like a dislodged meat hook, explaining why the band calls their style “doom-sludge pop.” Lyrically, however, THE MOTH shows a new openness and vulnerability under the shell of raw power that the songs initially present. Experiencing and living through strokes of fate runs through the record as a recurring theme – all under a rough shell of distinctive and deliberately raw sound. Bassist/vocalist Cécile Ash, guitarist/vocalist Freden Mohrdiek, and drummer Curry Korr perform the dichotomy with a high recognition value. Boring riff hum and mantric stoner-esque repetition are not their thing. Anyone who experiences THE MOTH live will automatically find themselves in front of the stage with a biting head nod, a thirst for beer, and a fist clenched at hip height.
Frost was recorded live in only 24 hours, recorded and mixed by José Lorenzo at Bombrec Recording, and then mastered by Timo Höcke, at Die Wellenschmiede, and completed with artwork by Sarah Breen and layout by Cécile Ash. Emma Billingham and Emily Yardley provide additional vocals on “In The City.”
The first single from Frost, “Dust,” is delivered through a video by Niklas Krohn of Cruel Visions. Cécile Ash reveals the touching story behind the single, writing, “Two years ago, I had breast cancer. During that time, I discovered the writer Anita Moorjani and her own approach to cancer. After a near-death experience her tumor started regressing and she came out with a super positive, encouraging, and empowering attitude. One of the essences of her attitude is rewriting the meaning of the word remission, used to describe the 5-10 years phase after a treatment when signs and symptoms of cancer seem to be fading or completely going away – before doctors would use the word cure. Moorjani reinterprets and sees it as an abbreviation for ‘Remember your Mission’ postulating a pledge for asking yourself: ‘What is my mission, what am I here for?’ First and foremost, she says it’s about just being yourself. ‘Dust’ is about death holding the sword of Damocles of cancer recurrence over me. It says dagger instead of sword in the song simply because it did fit better with the music. It’s about remembering the mission of being yourself, which seems to be a strong force against a possible conquest and for a serious bye-bye to the ongoing threat.”
Check out THE MOTH’s video for “Dust” now at THIS LOCATION.
Watch for additional videos and previews of the album to post shortly.
Frost Track Listing: 1. Me, Myself & Enemy 2. Birmingham 3. Battlefield 4. Bruised 5. Cathedral 6. Hundreds 7. Frost 8. In The City 9. Dust 10. Silent
THE MOTH has already confirmed a string of release dates including shows with Thronehammer and labelmates Treedeon with more to be posted shortly.
THE MOTH Record Release Shows: 9/22/2023 Störtebecker – Hamburg, DE w/ Treedeon 10/03/2023 Alte Meierei – Kiel, DE w/ Thronehammer 10/04/2023 Fundbureau – Hamburg, DE w/ Thronehammer 10/05/2023 MTC – Cologne, DE w/ Thronehammer 10/06/2023 Immerhin – Wuerzburg, DE 10/07/2023 Keep It Low Festival – Munich, DE 11/17/2023 Thav – Hildesheim, DE w/ with Shakhtyor 11/18/2023 Die Trompete – Bochum, DE w/ Treedeon
Founded in 2012, the feedback on THE MOTH’s first album They Fall was already quite enthusiastic. Right from the start, the band presented themselves as an international band that drew fans all over the world, from Tokyo to Vancouver. Between festival appearances at the Desertfests in London and Berlin, Stoned From The Underground, the Svart Festival Oslo, the Doom Over Vienna, and the Riff Mass Brighton, two more albums were released in 2015 with And Then Rise and 2017 Hysteria. On accompanying tours and shows throughout Europe and the UK with, among others, Treedeon, Conan, Eyehategod, Crowbar, Torche, and Red Fang, THE MOTH left enthusiastic fans behind.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 15th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Insert forehead slap here. I mean, of course Hamburg’s The Moth would end up on Exile on Mainstream. Their outsider sludge rock is a perfect fit for the long-established imprint, whose general taste and will to bend the rules of genre are defining aspects. It’s like a dodecahedron peg in a dodecahedron hole. Bordering on the obvious.
Been a minute, but The Moth‘s last album, Hysteria (review here), was released through This Charming Man Records in 2017. Their next one is coming in September, so maybe we’ll get more info in the next month or so, but for now the news is good and a new record from them is something to look forward to. They’ll be out on the road for it in Germany with Thronehammer in Sept./Oct., also making a stop to rile up Keep it Low in Munich.
Right on:
THE MOTH: German Doom/Sludge Metal Trio Signs To Exile On Mainstream; LP Due This Fall
Exile On Mainstream welcomes fellow Germans THE MOTH and their groove-heavy brew of doom/sludge metal to the label for their impending LP.
Label owner Andreas Kohl states, “Just as a good friend recently put it: ‘This band, with this lineup and this sound – it was just a question of time until they land at your shores. They just belong to Exile On Mainstream.” The friend, Germany’s renowned Metal radio icon Jakob Kranz, envisioned what we kinda felt but didn’t know. So did we finally achieve becoming a label that defines through a certain sound? Have we become so predictable? Not at all. I mean come on, THE MOTH might be a power trio with their sound deeply rooted in sludge, a woman on bass creating the most thundering base a lover of the heavy could wish for, and they might share a certain approach to music and loving what they do with the likes of Treedeon and Might, but it’s not the sound. The Hamburg-based act got here based on the binding element in our universe: friendship.
“I have said it before: we either are friends, or we become it by working together. So, welcome to the tribe, THE MOTH! With three albums under their belt, all released by the fantastic brethren at This Charming Man, the members are no newbies and have honed their no-nonsense approach to sludge/metal/doom on numerous tours and gigs. Their songs are virtually void of frills, instead opting to turn out hammer heavy drums and riff ready rock ’n’ roll. As brutal as it is bewitching. With a fourth album in the making, we are thrilled to welcome THE MOTH.”
The new album by THE MOTH is under construction now. Expect a release in September 2023, with more details to post over the Summer.
Before the new album is even finished, THE MOTH has already confirmed a string of release dates including shows with Thronehammer and labelmates Treedeon with more to be posted shortly.
THE MOTH RECORD RELEASE TOUR 2023 22/09/23 D Hamburg, Störtebecker (w/ Treedeon) 03/10/23 D Kiel, Alte Meierei (w/ Thronehammer) 04/10/23 D Hamburg, Fundbureau (w/ Thronehammer) 05/10/23 D Cologne, MTC (w/ Thronehammer) 06/10/23 D Wuerzburg, Immerhin 07/10/23 D Munich, Keep it Low Festival
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 6th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
There’s precious little you can trust in life and I know, I know, I know I’ve said this at least several times in the past, but you can trust the taste of Exile on Mainstream‘s Andreas Kohl when it comes to finding and issuing interesting, innovative and — perhaps most importantly — actually good music. I’m not saying the label and I are always 100 percent on the same page, but in all honesty, even stuff that I’m not super-all-over, I’ve never checked out an Exile on Mainstream release and regretted it. I hold the imprint to a pretty high, almost unrealistic, standard and have for a long time now. That standard has never not been met.
Gavial — and kudos to the band on changing their name from the former Tourette Boys — will release their debut-under-the-moniker VOR through Exile on Mainstream on May 19, and that’s all I need to know to get on board. Nonetheless, I’d be a prick if I didn’t actually include the PR wire info here, you know, for good measure, so here it is:
GAVIAL: German Blues/Psychedelic Rock Quartet Formerly Known As Tourette Boys To Release VOR LP Through Exile On Mainstream In May
Exile On Mainstream excitedly welcomes German quartet GAVIAL to the label, and is preparing to release the band’s new LP, VOR.
The story of GAVIAL began nearly fifteen years ago as a project adapted from a Nirvana song and pun as “Two Red Boys.” Having released three albums as Tourette Boys, two collaborations with UK-based blues musician Tim Holehouse, and a split EP with labelmates Gaffa Ghandi, the band played countless gigs and tours with bands like Acid Mothers Temple, Dyse, Gaffa Ghandi, The Skull, True Widow and Sleepy Sun. This musical project is based on friendship even though the musicians live in different cities. The vast and untouched landscapes between Berlin and Dresden may have contributed to the inspiration for the sound of the band, which repeatedly tries to ground Psychedelic abstraction in modern blues. The result is more reminiscent of the desert rock that we know from the vastness of Arizona than the urban hustle and bustle in big cities. Shimmering soundscapes, partly dark and melancholic, then again full of hope and glaring light filled with the comforting, but nonetheless ominous heat of the desert – GAVIAL remains true masters of that.
It’s 2023, and it’s time for a turning point… on multiple levels. With VOR, the band’s fourth album is for the first time distributed on a label, uniting with their friends at Exile On Mainstream. For the recordings in 2022 the band grew from a trio to a quartet, and with that move comes the name change that was long overdue, which the band explains by stating, “In the last few years, we frequently discussed our music, videos, and name and tried to reflect on our decisions during that time. Concerning the name of the band, we have come to the decision that it is no longer appropriate to continue using it. Affected people deserve respect and we think that this band name shows a lack thereof. For that, we want to apologize.”
VOR is once again characterized by the search for a contemporary expression of the blues without questioning its authenticity. GAVIAL weaves musical inspiration from ambient, soul, gospel, and country into different threads from a carpet of sound that simply ignores the sharp cliffs of redundant categories such as retro or stoner. The music doesn’t need name dropping, but if you still want to make room in your thematically sorted record shelf, you’re welcome to make some room in the compartments in which you put your Screaming Trees, Flying Eyes, Black Crowes, or Woodcocks, so that GAVIAL can find space in them. Sorted alphabetically, VOR also cuts a fine figure between Gaffa Ghandi, Geraldine Fibbers, and Giant Sand.
Lyrically, GAVIAL is cautiously concrete, exploring the ambivalent depths of the soul where there are more questions than answers. Singer Benjamin Butter intones lyrical sketches of emotional states between melancholy, quiet anger, and hope, reminiscent of Charles Baudelaire, and turns the voice into another instrument. The interplay with driving bass lines and Americana-esque guitars results in music as it should be: melodic but not profane, accessible but with a fragile base.
VOR was recorded in the band’s rehearsal room and mixed by Benjamin Butter and Bernard Camilleri, who has become their go-to sound engineer. Bernard Camilleri did the mastering at his Xekillton Studio in Malta. The artwork is from the Flowers Of Terrible series by Berlin-based artist Hamid Yaraghchi.
Exile On Mainstream will release GAVIAL’s VOR May 19th on Black Vinyl LP and digitally, and a limited CD version will be made available at the band’s concerts.
Obelyskkh, “The Ultimate Grace of God” video premiere
Steve Paradise on “The Ultimate Grace of God”:
The Song ‘The Ultimate Grace Of God’ is about all those too many people who care about only themselves, thinking they are the crown of creation. But they are wrong. This role is, by the grace of god, already taken by us. We tried to express that in the video. And we think that was impressively successful.
Avant sludge doomers Obelyskkh are set to issue their fifth full-length, The Ultimate Grace of God, through Exile on Mainstream on Jan. 27. Lurching, slamming, willfully unmanageable and abidingly miserable, it runs seven songs and 71 minutes and is the follow-up to 2017’s The Providence (review here). While I don’t know over what period of time it was recorded — days, weeks, months, years, or some outside measurement that takes into account the horror-and-bad-pills-filled dimension the three-piece are working in — it was wrought at Mach Ma Mecker Studio in Breitenguessbach with production by Moe Waldmann (who also mixed) and Seeb Gerischer, mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege, and the scope of its component material is matched by how densely packed it is. So that not only are Obelyskkh pulling you over rocks for over an hour in ritualized fashion, they’re doing so with surprising efficiency considering all the atmospheric stretches of drone, changes within the individual songs, the collapsing universe around us about which we only continue to know less, etc.
Lyrically speaking, “Aquaveil” (8:30) might be a love song, or it might be about dropping acid, but it starts with what sounds like a kid playing amid apocalyptic winds before a rolling, driving riff takes hold and the first vocals arrive, sounding utterly disgusted. Obelyskkh — guitarist/vocalist Crazy Woitek, drummer/vocalist Steve Paradise, bassist Seb Duster — will come back again to this kind of “eww look at that” delivery throughout The Ultimate Grace of God at various points, and it becomes an underlying thread drawing the songs together along with the bitter, sometimes grueling, churn of their grooves and all-brown psychedelia that overlays.
Following the stomping verse and low speech eerily moving across channels, the first of many layered solos sweeps forward, and “Aquaveil” returns to that initial shove riff and moves into gruff incantations over lumbering crashes before coming apart at 3:40, letting the fuzz bass and drums set up a return for quieter guitars. It’s a build, and not necessarily slow, but not hurried, and kicks into more lumbering, almost Electric Wizardly, or at least Ramesses, but twisted, after the five-minute mark, delivering its title in what feels like reverent repetitions. This too will be a theme as the title-track follows, but first, “Aquaveil” lets a non-lyric “ahh” become a layered wash, cosmic as much anticosmic, the guitar’s threat never far even as they seem to be fading and the drums carry a layer of effects, the guitar fades out, rises up again in a dual-channel solo, the vocals gross-howl — moving toward and past seven minutes now — but eventually stop alongside the drums and a low frequency drone becomes the most dominant element, synthy ambience arriving but leaving quickly in the fade.
If one would look to “The Ultimate Grace of God” (9:55) to help solve some riddle, don’t bother. This is post-modern, the name comes from a hair salon, nothing means anything, take a scrub-sponge to your mind and rid it of the crust of expectation before you get dishpan hands, existentially speaking. If you can’t bask in absurdity, first, how do you survive?, and second, you might as well go back while you still can. The title-track is quicker into full volume at its outset, the drums plodding behind a start-stop riff that comes to be topped with dramatic, echoing guttural layers before two verse rhythms start happening at the same time. Is that Paradise and Woitek? Maybe, but this record isn’t about to go around explaining itself for you, so you’re better off accepting the mystery. In any case, the affect is overwhelming, one voice barking at you to look at this beautiful face, the other cultish moans faux-worshiping the wretchedness of beauty and excess as described in the lyrics.
It’s class warfare, and right. fucking. on., but Obelyskkh aren’t necessarily bound stylistically by these bourgeois concerns. Some of “The Ultimate Grace of God” reminds of mid-period Neurosis — unless that’s just the way the word “grace” seems to echo out — but they move from that manic dual-vocal back to start-stops to cycle through again, breaking into standalone guitar at about 4:45, wistful and classic rock in all but its layering, snapping at 5:41 into a heavier embodiment of the same part, now triumphant. Synth, or guitar effects, or horns, or something, add to it ahead of more left/right soloing, and the title-track makes clear once and for all the bleak, drugs-and-drear vision of prog that Obelyskkh are fostering. A xylophone shows up, purposefully grandiose, purposefully over the top, and they ride that movement as long as they ride anything throughout the entire album, slowing gradually around eight and a half minutes in, drawing out by nine, and making no attempt to hide their intent, finishing at a still-cohesive crawl until the last crash leaves a residual rumble behind.
“Black Mother,” which follows, is the shortest inclusion at 5:46. I haven’t seen a lyric sheet for it, so I won’t speak to the intention behind the title, but from what I can glean listening — and mind you these things don’t always come through with the utmost clarity on a record so prone to delivering headfucks — it’s at least not directly about race, i.e., a Black woman with a child. If I’m wrong and it is, or if I’m not and it’s not, the more important question is what ‘black’ portends in terms of the song itself, and that’s what I don’t know. There are lines about ‘Blissful mother’ protecting children and her own soul and ‘bewitcher and destructive lord’ (?) amid a nodding, counted-in riff, chugging in the verse, etc. After two minutes in, they shift to ’70s horror organ and another riff emerges behind repeated pleas to “Break me apart” and “Open me up,” the song growing more intense as it pushes deeper, not quite a traditional build, but increasingly urgent anyhow. They stop, jangle-chug to hold place with noodly lines overtop, build in with the ride cymbal, then they’re heads-down in shove, crashing quickly into a slowdown after four minutes, bringing back the cult-chant vocals, layering with shouts, before the stomping ending turns back to the beginning chorus in a surprising bookend. Had to end somehow, and fair enough.
The first of two songs over 14 minutes long, “Afterlife” (14:26) is a culmination for the first of the 2LPs and like its side D counterpart, an album unto itself. Noise drone starts, guitar enters slowly, sparse but setting a progression in motion. At 1:35 a clearer figure arrives over the noise, which starts to spiral in rhythm then evens out again. The lead line is sweet ahead of the full-on crash-in at 2:49, giving way to lumbers and drags that are hypnotic before galloping forward with the verse. A drum switch to hi-hat/snare from and then back to ride cymbal makes a difference in energy behind the same riff. The sound of Paradise‘s hi-hat there is sharp and biting, and the vocals are in that disgusted modus like “Aquaveil,” before cutting, getting quiet but staying tense as “Afterlife” moves past six minutes, building back up as signaled by drums and ferociousness of the guitar layers.
An oddly timed march is introduced at about 5:45 and starts in earnest around a minute later, the track full of unexpected turns like The Ultimate Grace of God. At 7:23, the same movement surges louder and that’s just fine. An echo-coated but nonetheless more traditional verse, gives over to psych-sludge shouts and drawls, two voices intertwining again, before a guitar solo takes hold at 9:09, layered again but righteous. All seems to be rolling along smoothly enough, so Obelyskkh pull the rug out from underneath and shift into Khanate crashes over empty space, becoming furious quickly — we’re past 10 minutes in now — until a snare hit quick-turns back to the galloping verse, crash, then hi-hat — this is a band with a marker board in their rehearsal space — repeating the song’s title in lyrics. A current of feedback builds after 11:30, the crashes become consuming, looped, the vocals open wide and swallow the song until after 12 minutes it’s a noise wash. The drums crash and everything else kind of fades away save for feedback and effects drone, synthy manipulations; caustic noise rising, receding over that drone, and then gradually the drone fades too. Death in “Afterlife.”
If that was the record, you’d probably call it complete, but the point here is that being digested by cruel aural antireality takes time and Obelyskkh aren’t about to loosen their grip. The Ultimate Grace of God might be ‘epic’ were it not so poisonous. Either way, there are more terrors to come as they engage the seemingly-purposefully-paired “Universal Goddess” (6:28) and “Dog Headed God” (9:26) — interesting that the two shortest tracks are about women idols/archetypes — land ahead of the finale. “Universal Goddess” has a creeper riff at its outset before the drums kick in and ends up using feedback like a sustained drone, cycling through four measures before turning to the next onslaught-take on that breaking-fragile-things rhythm, moving to a chugging march to offset as a transition to the feedback fading, a clearer, starker line of guitar used as backdrop for gothic-style melodrama in the vocals, laced with whispers of the title-line, a particularly religious-feeling call and response, like at a mass.
This seems to trail off but then “Universal Goddess” bursts to life before the halfway point, grueling vocals dug into lyrical paeans to the titular deity. There’s a noise rock jabber of a riff that’s given its due before it straightens out to a run and obliterates itself just after five minutes in, and from there, the sludge freakout is on. A layer of feedback noise returns, becomes the constant, then the drums crash out and the riff stops and the song ends with what sounds like the speaker cabinet howling in agony, or maybe worship. “Dog Headed God” comes on as immediately more together, and is already into what will become the weighted shove, into the first verse before hitting the one-minute mark. Obelyskkh dare a bit more melody in the layering, saying the title-line deep in the mix compared to the verse.
A churning riff pushes “Dog Faced God” forward — the Anubis reference clear — then there’s a sudden turn just before two minutes to a riff established then fleshed out with fuller fuzz. It stops, turns, attacks, and when the vocals sneer the line “My soul is pure,” before the layering and whispers start, the threat is real. They march and swing for a while, some shoutback response make the stretch even less lucid-seeming the second time through. Not quite a chorus, there’s shouting over the churn: “God of the dead/With a dog god head/Claws of red.” They turn back to churning verse past halfway, hits around on crashes and takes off again with “God of the dead…,” growing more distraught and witchy. I’m not sure if it’s percussion or keys/synth or another layer of guitar, but the ensuing movement is topped with weirdo bloops and beeps, as the song behind becomes even more out there and decay-stenched, manipulated and pulled apart molecularly while the drone of synth remains. Keyboard and sharp noise after eight minutes set the final haul in motion, but it’s all noise from there on out. They aren’t coming back. It ends: electronic stutters and the drone, then just the stutters, like a helicopter far away, then nothing. Mindfully praising chaos.
From this silence arrives “Sat Nam [Vision]” (16:49), the longest track on The Ultimate Grace of God and arguably the most ritualistic, despite abundant competition.
Pops of electronic or other noise over drone at the outset — maybe an answer to the end of “Dog Headed God” — and there’s a deep inhale (is that you, drugs?), another, a cough. Thus the stage is set for trip to find universal truth, or at very least the unmaking of all things. After all this ambience, they crash in just before two minutes, finding semi-angular lumber, then proggy bounce, the bizarre chanting given suitable instrumental accompaniment, straightening out to horrifying lines about being saved. A layer of sub-caustic synth, like you just dialed the wrong number to one of those galaxies billions of lightyears away, backs more headfuck vocal layers thrown at you. A relatively quick transition results in, “I am the way the way, the truth, the life,” delivered like Monotheist-era Celtic Frost, back to the bops and that drone, a turn back to this chorus, layer of death growl or throat-singing underneath, nodding crash, coming apart as these parts do, capping with the keywords “way, truth, life” repeating over timed crashes.
There’s a moment of respite — surprising, considering — to “Sat Nam [Vision]” after five minutes as it oozes to feedback and drone, then on to throat-singing, cymbals, some other percussion, and the vocals reveal themselves as making a mantra of “Sat nam,” chimes and bowls and a noise like running water that isn’t comprising an atmospheric backdrop, also an undulating waveform drone. They’re not yet halfway through. A programmed beat starts circa eight minutes in, the chant still looping at first goes away before guitar reenters at 8:34, the bed for a low semi-spoken verse with keys prominent amid rumbling and light-plucked guitars. More layers are added for the repetitions of “be buried in oblivion” after a second cycle through that verse, and just after 10 minutes, Obelyskkh move into a more guttural, “I was living in a sat nam vision,” the slow roll behind almost cinematic. This too is stripped away to just “sat nam” spit out, and at 11:48 another vocal layer enters and brings lead guitar lines, creating a fray that comes and goes around various “sat nam” repetitions.
It’s dramatic as it song moves toward the 13-minute mark, but feels like it’s drawing down, then noise drone rises over ’80s horror vibes, snare bends time deep in the mix. Lines of piano and guitar complement each other like they don’t know the world’s over yet, and eventually they go and the noise finishes and the album finishes and everything is finished, you, me, the mantra of one god that is “sat nam” and all else. Exhausted and undone, the closing piece of The Ultimate Grace of God leaves on a fast-fading line of guitar after a long stretch of drone, and if that’s the last bit of consciousness receding into the grim ether that’s been at the heart of Obelyskkh‘s work all along, that submission is well earned by the extremity, the oppressive reach, of the band’s tonal, ambient, conceptual heft and the experimental scope of their purposes. Too molten to be just-brutal, The Ultimate Grace of God is an accomplishment in bringing together such disparate notions of what makes music progressive, and its warped otherworldliness is visionary in the challenge it issues to its audience. If you can meet it on its level — and if you’re still reading, I’m not going to claim to have done that — it has the presence of dogma dragging you down with it. And to where?
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 14th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
You know, for some reason, I can never seem to spell Obelyskkh‘s name right. I guess when you get used to typing a certain word a certain way for so long, it’s just where your brain goes. But Germany’s Obelyskkh are consistently worth the effort of spelling their moniker correctly. Their last album, 2017’s The Providence (review here), was an otherworldly ripper, and it would seem the consciousness-shredding intention continues to hold sway over the impending The Ultimate Grace of God. There isn’t a track streaming yet, and I suspect that after you watch the teaser trailer for the album below — which starts, suitably enough, with a line of cocaine — you’ll share my opinion that that’s a bummer, because the swirling malevolent sludge doom this band conjures is likewise distinctive and disturbing. Righteously so. I’m gonna see if I can line up a single premiere ahead of the release — you never know if you don’t ask — but in the meantime, check out the album info, the killer AI cover art, and the teaser below.
By the way, about the art: I’d be genuinely surprised if we don’t see a lot of AI-born covers coming down the line in 2023 and maybe beyond. If you can get a look like this, why wouldn’t you? And if you don’t think that AI art is art, then AI art has made you feel something and form an opinion, and therefore it is art. If you disagree, it just proves it more. See also Marcel Duchamp and all those blank canvases at the Guggenheim.
From the PR wire:
OBELYSKKH: German Psychedelic Sludge Metal Trio To Release Fifth LP, The Ultimate Grace Of God, Via Exile On Mainstream Records In January; Cover Art, Teaser, Preorders, And More Posted
German psychedelic doom/sludge metal goliath OBELYSKKH returns with their fifth album, and first in over five years, with The Ultimate Grace Of God. The band’s long-running allies at Exile On Mainstream will release the album worldwide on January 27th, today unveiling the record’s cover art, track listing, preorders, a brief teaser, and more.
Having remained quiet in recent years, OBELYSKKH celebrated a brilliant return at the South Of Mainstream Festival in September 2022. The show, which consisted only of new material, already showed clearly where the sonic journey is going: the psychedelic elements fade into the background and make way for increased pressure and a furious reckoning with noise and slamming riffs, focused, direct, and without frills. The Ultimate Grace Of God is a child of the times and its challenges, whose story began in April 2017 with a walk through Antwerp: In the middle of an uninviting district with cold-looking apartment blocks, there is an unassuming, run-down hair salon with the words “THE ULTIMATE GRACE OF GOD” emblazoned across the shop window. The idea for the next OBELYSKKH album was born. At the time, no one could have guessed that it would take almost five years from then until the idea for a physical release was implemented.
When their second guitarist left right before the release of their prior album, The Providence, OBELYSKKH had to restructure. They remembered the punk attitude of the early days and decided to pick it up again as a classic bass/guitar/drums power trio. Influences from old noise heroes such as KARP, Todd, Jesus Lizard, and the Melvins became more noticeable when writing the new songs and they were written just as quickly as they were direct. A studio was found. A test recording by Moe Waldmann and Seeb Gerischer in the lovingly furnished Mach Ma Mecker recording studio in the remote solitude of the Franconian town of Breitengüßbach convinced everyone involved. Rosy future. New album almost in the can. It could start.
Then, Corona hit… Several studio dates were repeatedly postponed due to contact bans, until a small Summer gap finally opened. In a week, OBELYSKKH pounded The Ultimate Grace Of God in, live and raw – a few overdubs here and there, followed by gorgeous mastering by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege Studios the beast was done and waiting to be released. The cover art was created by an AI, fed with keywords from the OBELYSKKH lyrics, and the beast was done and waiting to be released. But Corona was still there. A year passed and the album was gathering dust in a drawer. Then came the energy crisis. Then came inflation. The beer got so expensive that there was no money left to finish the album. And in no time at all it was 2022.
But what underlies through it all: the OBELYSKKH crew is tough, just like the music: a loud, angry hunk of noise. And despite all the crises, the hair salon in Antwerp is still styling.
The Ultimate Grace of God will be released on January 27th as a bundle of LP and CD as well as digitally. The CD and digital contain two additional bonus tracks. The CD is included with the LP; there is no separate CD release. Find preorders at the label webshop HERE:https://shop.mainstreamrecords.de/product/eom104
The Ultimate Grace Of God Track Listing: 1. Aquaveil 2. The Ultimate Grace Of God 3. Black Mother 4. Afterlife 5. Universal Goddess 6. Dog Headed God 7. Sat Nam (Vision)
clearly on purpose. And it’s all part of the thing. There’s complexity of style throughout, and an overarching airiness of tone gives the band ample space to fill as they chase down one aural idea or another, be it a riff, sample, synth or the deceptively intricate chug coinciding with the cries in “Magna Mater.” The subsequent “Mun Kvlta” begins calmer with synth and standalone guitar, but it’s not long before a low-distortion drone takes hold for a few minutes of texture-exploration. Something of a preface there for the closing title-track, in that it’s instrumental and more about ambience despite being heavy as buildings.
