Posted in Whathaveyou on November 24th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Look. This probably won’t be the last time today I talk about a video that came out a couple weeks back, and I know that maybe from outside, a 2022 album that did pretty well on Bandcamp and whatnot getting picked up for a vinyl release doesn’t seem like a big deal. But in the case of Fargo, North Dakota’s Gypsy Wizard Queen, I assure you it is. To be able to say someone — never mind that it’s Buddy Donner of Glory or Death Records (also Sabbath Buddy Sabbath and Great Electric Quest) as the individual in question — thinks enough of your work to get behind putting it on a 12″ platter, and then the test pressings show up at your house? I don’t care if you’ve put out 40 albums in your career — that’s a good day.
Preorders are up for the vinyl now, and the band has a video for the 10-minute languid-roll opener/longest-track “Witch Lung,” which is about as NSFW as a bunch of Hammer Horror exploitation flicks because that’s where at least most of the footage comes from. I think the lady with the skull and the knife by her breast was used by Electric Wizard at some point or other, but it’s been used by a lot of people, so maybe you’ll recognize it. In any case, if you’re at work, don’t watch the clip — and yes, it’s not new unless you’re some kind of weirdo who thinks just because something has been out for more than 48 hours it might still have relevance; and if that’s you, congrats on staying off social media — and if we’re being all the way sincere here, I don’t really like perpetuating this kind of imagery. I don’t feel like there’s much aesthetic gain at this point from slathering ’70s boobage all over your riffs, but I’m clearly in the minority there considering how many do. It’s a big universe, though, and the arc of history at least in this case bends toward inclusion, so it’s another instance where, as George Carlin reminds us, “Evolution is slow; smallpox is fast.”
Think maybe I’ll go back to bed for a bit. Link to buy the thing, the video embed and the album stream all follow here, because one likes to be thorough:
“Witch Lung” is the opening track of the Self-Titled album released in 2022
“Gypsy Wizard Queen is a heavily fuzzed-out power trio hailing from the frozen tundra of Fargo, ND. The band consists of Chris Ellingson on guitar/vocals, Chad Heille on drums, and Mitch Martin on bass/vocals. Their dynamic, bluesy grooves can be found on their latest self-titled release.”
Shipping begins around November 28
Gypsy Wizard Queen are: Chris Ellingson – Guitar/Vocals Chad Heille – Drums Mitch Martin – Bass
Posted in Questionnaire on June 2nd, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Neal Stein of El Supremo
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
Sometimes I play guitar and make records.
Describe your first musical memory.
Music goes all the way back for me. My mom played guitar and sang in church and apparently when she was pregnant and played guitar I would quit fussing and kicking. I remember sitting in front of my parents’ stereo when I was very young and being just fascinated with it.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
The more I try to think of a single answer to that, the harder it gets. There have been those moments jamming with people you’ve spent a lot of time with where things happen spontaneously and simultaneously like you’re all on the same wavelength or whatever. That shit rules.
There have been some pretty incredible shows, too. Freak Valley in 2015 stands out. We didn’t even play that tight of a set, but the whole atmosphere of that show was really special. I was worried about the weather since it was grey and kinda looked like rain all morning, but the sky cleared up as we were on stage and it just felt like we were doing exactly what we should be doing at that moment.
Other smaller shows where the intense enthusiasm of everyone there outshines the fact that there aren’t many people make for some memorable experiences, too.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Not sure, honestly. I don’t have a lot of precious beliefs. During the process making a record there’s always a point where I question my belief that music is a worthwhile endeavor, especially in the last two or three years.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
I suppose it’s a combination of finding your strengths and working with those and also finding new ways of doing things or finding out you’re capable of more than you previously thought. Getting better at playing your instrument; better at working with other people; learning new tools or new ways to use them. Getting more fluent at the language of creating, turning ideas into something tangible.
How do you define success?
Being able to spend more of your time doing what you care about instead of having to trade the majority of your time and energy working on shit you don’t want to do just to get by. There’s that kind of success, being able to sustain your chosen preferred activity. There’s also the success of just knowing you’ve seen something through, stuck it out until the album is done or the song is written or the tour is complete or whatever.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Besides the morbid or gross shit out there…
I wish I didn’t see people pissing away their lives. Squandered talent or opportunities. Whether it’s shitty jobs, bad relationships, substance abuse. A lot of people just sort of exist.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
Part of my brain wants to say “an ambitious orchestral work that integrates mixed media for an immersive, mind-altering experience.” Really, though, I’d just like to make a good record in a real studio like Electrical Audio or something. Everything I’ve done has been DIY. It would be nice to have someone who actually knows what they’re doing record and mix while I can focus on playing.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
That’s a big question. I think it can transcend the sort of functionality that might be ascribed to a tool or something. It can connect people to each other, to their world, to ways of thinking they haven’t experienced. It can affect people on primal, intellectual, and emotional levels. I think that’s one of the things that makes us human and keeps us human. You take it away or corrupt it and we’re closer to machines or animals. It also functions as a time capsule, preserving an individual expression and even the zeitgeist of when it was created.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Looking forward to the weather getting better so I can get back out on a bicycle again.
[Click play above to stream El Supremo’s Acid Universe in full. Album is out this Friday, Feb. 24, through Argonauta Records.]
About four years ago, Fargo, North Dakota’s El Supremo made their full-length debut with 2019’s independently-released Clarity Through Distortion (review here), which saw Chad Heille — first multi-instrumentalist and only member, later drummer — build a complete lineup to work in the vein of a demo he’d put together under the moniker in 2008. The years between had found Heille in the drummer position for sludge rockers Egypt, and when that band ended their run after their last album in 2017, he and guitarist Neal Stein (who has also played in any number of more extreme outfits) took refuge in the revived El Supremo, making that record on which Heille also played bass and eventually joining together with bassist Cameron Dewald and, crucially, organist/keyboardist Chris Gould as a full, stage-ready instrumental four-piece. Clarity Through Distortion was more than a second demo, more substantial both in terms of the amount of material and the presence of an actual band, but felt like the initial offering it was, as the band seemed to feel their way through a sound informed by classic heavy, weighted groove and a bit of psychedelic flourish.
Acid Universe is El Supremo‘s second long-player, first to be issued on Argonauta Records, and sharpens their take to light a way forward and see them become all the more of cognizant of who they are and what they want to do as a group. At five tracks and 40 minutes recorded, mixed and mastered by Stein, it strips about 15 minutes of runtime off the debut and feels more specifically geared toward vinyl, and its sound is marked by a distinguished but casual saunter, grooves that swing not wildly, but with an accessible, easily engaged presence — by the end of the record, you might call it ‘friendly’ for the tonal warmth and the manner in which it brings the listener along its course — that is as much bolder in its progressive aspects on centerpiece “261 to Lisbon” as it is unbridled in its funk-out on the subsequent “White Hot Fever Dream.”
I do not know the circumstances in which the writing happened — there were a wacky few years in the time since the first album; anything’s possible — but from the more horror-themed organ work on the sample-topped leadoff intro “Crowley Magick” through the graceful hypnotic twists, mellow and heavy and far from aggressive, of its 11:30 closing title-track, Acid Universe takes the explorations of Clarity Through Distortion and perhaps some of the meditative implications of the debut’s title, and solidifies an approach while remaining wholly, delightfully unpretentious.
Where one might expect from instrumental heavy rock fare that, as often happens, it’s lead guitar stepping into the forward role that vocals might otherwise occupy, on Acid Universe, it’s Stein and Gould sharing that spotlight in a dynamic that, following the swelling, receding, and swelling again of “Crowley Magick” and the almost circus-like mood that sets, the 10-minute “The Ghost Of…” establishes smoothly. Atop a steady, rolling rhythm, layers of lead guitar and keys work in unison or break off, each going their own way only to unite again later on.
This weaving pattern becomes essential to the listening experience of El Supremo‘s sophomore LP, and with Gould‘s keys able to flesh out melody even as Stein‘s guitar shifts into later chug on that post-intro leadoff — which seems to find another layer of low-end heft as it moves toward its fade — the interplay of the two instruments is a defining element. They proceed to toy with it, as one would hope, as feedback and organ drift tops the steady drums and holding-it-together bassline on “261 to Lisbon,” which is the psychedelic epicenter of the offering but still terrestrial in its vibe, less meandering than it at first might seem, with a foundation in jamming that’s been broadened and plotted into this final form. Effects-laced guitar and organ trade channels in a call and response in the second half, and the jazzy fluidity resolves — as hoped — in a more densely distorted finish.
The break to silence gives “White Hot Fever Dream” a clean start, and the swaggering funk that emerges feels likewise jam-born but developed into a cohesive song. Gould turns in a highlight performance, bouncing around with the punchy bass while the guitar pulls lead lines out of the air over the upbeat drumming. Classic formula, classic execution. A more prominent guitar solo arrives at about three and a half minutes into the total 7:35, and the keys get accordingly sweatpants funk — as opposed to hotpants funk, which I think requires horns; not advisable in context — with thick tones and groove that still carries a sense of the Woo as it unfolds.
El Supremo build momentum as they twist through a tempo kick, coming to a head and letting the organ have final say, which by then it has well earned. Comparatively mellow at its outset, “Acid Universe” is more directly heavy psych at first, but there’s plenty of room for it to grow as expansive as it does, becoming not so much a summary of everything before it, but more of a standout piece on its own, a circular organ line following behind the sweetly fuzzed guitar for the initial couple minutes before volume turns up and they set into the back and forth that defines the first half of the track while the second, jammier but still fluid from one part to the next, reinforces the conversation happening between guitar and keys that’s been happening all along, turning it into a fitting payoff for the build of “Acid Universe” itself as well as the landing point for Acid Universe, the album, as a whole.
While perhaps not as drenched in the lysergic as its title implies, Acid Universe still has an open mindset in terms of the band following where the songs lead them. One can sit and have agency debates about creative works (of all stripes) forever — and hey, it might be fun — but what comes through in El Supremo‘s material in terms of vibe is that the pieces making up the album became what they are organically. They do not sound forced, or rushed, or shoehorned into being something other than they wanted to be. As an entirety, the record is smooth, cushy in its tones and breadth, without being in any way overbearing or asking more of the listener than they deliver back in terms of quality of craft and performance. There is something almost unassuming about it. A quiet confidence oozing through loud amplifiers. And for the places it goes and the routes it uses to get there, it accomplishes what the band set out to do, by this or any other universe’s standards.
Posted in Reviews on January 13th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
So here we are. On the verge of two weeks, 100 records later. My message here is the same as ever: I’m tired and I hope you found something worthwhile. A lot of this was catchup for me — still is, see Gaupa below — but maybe something slipped through the cracks for you in 2022 that got a look here, or maybe not and you’re not even seeing this and it doesn’t matter anyway and what even is music, etc., etc. I don’t know.
A couple bands were stoked along the way. That’s fun, I guess. Mostly I’ve been trying to keep in mind that I’m doing this for myself, because, yeah, there’s probably no other way I was going to get to cover these 100 albums, and I feel like the site is stronger for having done so, at least mostly. I guess shrug and move on. Next week is back to normal reviews, premieres and all that. I think March we’ll do this again, maybe try to keep it to five or six days. Two 100-record QRs in a row has been a lot.
But again, thanks if you’ve kept up at all. I’m gonna soak my head in these and then cover it with a pillow for a couple days to keep the riffs out. Just kidding, I’ll be up tomorrow morning writing. Like a sucker.
Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #91-100:
Gaupa, Myriad
Beginning with the hooky “Exoskeleton” and “Diametrical Enchantress,” Myriad is the second full-length from Sweden’s Gaupa (their first for Nuclear Blast), and a bringing together of terrestrial and ethereal heavy elements. Even at its most raucous, Gaupa‘s material floats, and even at its most floating, there is a plan at work, a story unfolding, and an underlying structure to support them. From the minimalist start of “Moloken” to the boogie rampage of “My Sister is a Very Angry Man,” the Swedefolk of “Sömnen,” the tension and explosions of “RA,” with the theatrical-but-can-also-really-sing, soulful vocals of Emma Näslund at the forefront, a proggy and atmospheric cut like “Elden” — which becomes an intense battery by the time it hits its apex; I’ve heard that about aging — retains a distinct human presence, and the guitar work of Daniel Nygren and David Rosberg, Erik Sävström‘s bass and Jimmy Hurtig‘s drums are sharp in their turns and warm in their tones, creating a fluidity that carries the five-piece to the heavy immersion of “Mammon,” where Näslund seems to find another, almost Bjork-ish level of command in her voice before, at 5:27 into the song’s 7:36, the band behind her kicks into the heaviest roll of the album; a shove by the time they’re done. Can’t ask for more. Some records just have everything.
Six albums in, let’s just all take a minute to be glad Orango are still at it. The Oslo-based harmonybringers are wildly undervalued, now over 20 years into their tenure, and their eighth album, Mohican (which I’m not sure is appropriate to take as an album title unless you’re, say, a member of the Stockbridge-Munsee Community) is a pleasure cruise through classic heavy rock styles. From opener/longest track (immediate points) “The Creek” twisting through harder riffing and more melodic range than most acts have in their entire career, through the memorable swagger in the organ-laced “Fryin’,” the stadium-ready “Running Out of Reasons,” the later boogie of “War Camp” and shuffle in “Dust & Dirt” (presumably titled for what’s kicked up by said shuffle) and the softer-delivered complementary pair “Cold Wind” and “Ain’t No Road” ending each side of the LP with a mellow but still engaging wistfulness, nobody does the smooth sounds of the ’70s better, and Mohican is a triumph in showcasing what they do, songs like “Bring You Back Home” and the bluesier “Wild River Song” gorgeous and lush in their arrangements while holding onto a corresponding human sensibility, ever organic. There is little to do with Orango except be wowed and, again, be thankful they’ve got another collection of songs to bask in and singalong to. It’s cool if you’re off-key; nobody’s judging.
You never really know when a flute, a choir, or a digeridoo might show up, and that’s part of the fun with Onségen Ensemble‘s six-track Realms LP, which goes full-Morricone in “Naked Sky” only after digging into the ambient prog of “The Sleeping Lion” and en route to the cinematic keys and half-speed King Crimson riffing of “Abysmal Sun,” which becomes a righteous melodic wash. The Finnish natives’ fourth LP, its vinyl pressing was crowdfunded through Bandcamp for independent release, and while the guitar in “Collapsing Star” calls back to “Naked Sky” and the later declarations roll out grandiose crashes, the horns of “The Ground of Being” set up a minimalist midsection only to return in even more choral form, and “I’m Here No Matter What” resolves in both epic keys/voices and a clear, hard-strummed guitar riff, the name Realms feels not at all coincidental. This is worldbuilding, setting a full three-dimensional sphere in which these six pieces flow together to make the 40-minute entirety of the album. The outright care put into making them, the sense of purpose, and the individualized success of the results, shouldn’t be understated. Onségen Ensemble are becoming, and so have become, a treasure of heavy, enveloping progressive sounds, and without coming across as contrived, Realms has a painterly sensibility that resonates joy.
Chad Heille (ex-Egypt, currently also El Supremo) drums in this Fargo, North Dakota, three-piece completed by guitarist/vocalist/engineer Chris Ellingson and bassist/vocalist Mitch Martin, and the heavy bluesy groove they emit as they unfurl “Witch Lung,” their self-titled debut’s 10-minute opener and longest track (immediate points), is likewise righteous and hypnotic. Even as “Paranoid Humanoid” kicks into its chorus on Heille‘s steady thud and a winding lead from Ellingson, one wouldn’t call their pace hurried, and while I’d like to shake everyone in the band’s hand for having come up with the song title “Yeti Davis Eyes” — wow; nicely done — the wandering jam itself is even more satisfying, arriving along its instrumental course at a purely stoner rock janga-janga before it’s finished and turns over to the final two tracks, “The Good Ride” and “Stoned Age,” both shorter, with the former also following an instrumental path, classically informed but modern in its surge, and the latter seeming to find all the gallop and shove that was held back from elsewhere and loosing it in one showstopping six-minute burst. I’d watch this live set, happily. Reminds a bit of Geezer on paper but has its own identity. Their sound isn’t necessarily innovative or trying to be, but their debut nonetheless establishes a heavy dynamic, shows their chemistry across a varied collection of songs, and offers a take on genre that’s welcome in the present and raises optimism for what they’ll do from here. It’s easy to dig, and I dig it.
Blake Hornsby, A Collection of Traditional Folk Songs & Tunes Vol. 1
It’s not quite as stark a contrast as one might think to hear Asheville, North Carolina’s Blake Hornsby go from banjo instrumentalism to more lush, sitar-infused arrangements for the final three songs on his A Collection of Traditional Folk Songs & Tunes Vol. 1, as bridging sounds across continents would seem to come organically to his style of folk. And while perhaps “Old Joe Clark” wasn’t written as a raga to start with, it certainly works as one here, answering the barebones runs of “John Brown’s Dream” with a fluidity that carries into the more meditative “Cruel Sister” and a drone-laced 13-minute take on the Appalachian traditional song “House Carpenter” (also done in various forms by Pentangle, Joan Baez, Myrkur, and a slew of others), obscure like a George Harrison home-recorded experiment circa Sgt. Pepper but sincere in its expression and cross-cultural scope. Thinking of the eight-tracker as an LP with two sides — one mostly if not entirely banjo tunes between one and two minutes long, the other an outward-expanding journey using side A as its foundation — might help, but the key word here is ‘collection,’ and part of Hornsby‘s art is bringing these pieces into his oeuvre, which he does regardless of the form they actually take. That is a credit to him and so is this album.
Oof that’s heavy. Produced by guitarist/vocalist Nick Forkel, who’s joined in the band by bassist Chris O’Toole (also Unearth) and drummer John “Jono” Garrett (also Mos Generator), Turbid North‘s The Decline is just as likely to be grind as doom at any given moment, as “Life Over Death” emphasizes before “Patients” goes full-on into brutality, and is the band’s fourth full-length and first since 2015. The 2023 release brings together 10 songs for 43 minutes that seem to grow more aggressive as they go, with “Eternal Dying” and “The Oppressor” serving as the opening statement with a lumber that will be held largely but not completely in check until the chugging, slamming plod of closer “Time” — which still manages to rage at its apex — while the likes of “Slaves,” “Drown in Agony” and “The Old Ones” dive into more extreme metallic fare. No complaints, except maybe for the bruises, but as “The Road” sneaks a stoner rock riff in early and some cleaner shouts in late amid Mastodonny noodling, there’s a playfulness that hints toward the trio enjoying themselves while doling out such punishment, and that gives added context and humanity to the likes of “A Dying Earth,” which is severe both in its ambient and more outright violent stretches. Not for everybody, but if you’re pissed off and feel like your brain’s on fire, they have your back with ready and waiting catharsis. Sometimes you just want to punch yourself in the face.
A third full-length in as many years from Roman four-piece Modern Stars — vocalist/guitarist/synthesist Andrea Merolle (also sitar and mandolin), vocalist Barbara Margani, bassist/mixer Filippo Strang and drummer Andrea Sperduti — Space Trips for the Masses is maybe less directly space rock in its makeup than one might think. The band’s heavy psychedelia is hardly earthbound, but more ambience than fiery thrust or motorik, and Merolle‘s vocals have a distinctly Mark Lanegan-esque smokiness to which Margani adds bolstering backing presence on the deceptively urbane “No Fuss,” after the opening drift of “Starlight” — loosely post-rock, but too active to be that entirely either, and that’s a compliment — and the echoing “Monkey Blues” first draw the listener in. Margani provides the only voice on centerpiece “My Messiah Left Me Behind,” but that shift is just one example of Modern Stars‘ clear intent to offer something different on every song, be it the shimmer of “Everyday” or the keyboard sounds filling the open spaces early in the eight-minute “Drowning,” which later takes up a march punctuated by, drums and tambourine, devolving on a long synth/noise-topped fade into the six-minute liquid cohesion that is “Ninna Nanna,” a capstone summary of the fascinating sprawl Modern Stars have crafted. One could live here a while, in this ‘space.’
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Destination Ceres Station: Reefersleep EP
Those who’ve been following the progression of Nebraska’s Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships will find Destination Ceres Station: Reefersleep — their second offering in 2022 behind the sophomore full-length Consensus Trance (review here) — accordingly dense in tone and steady in roll as the three-piece of Jeremy Warner, Karlin Warner and Justin Kamal offer two more tracks that would seem to have been recorded in the full-length session. As “Destination Ceres Station: Reefersleep” open-spaces and chugs across an instrumental-save-for-samples 12:31 and the subsequent “Ice Hauler” lumbers noddily to its 10:52 with vocals incorporated, the extended length of each track gives the listener plenty to groove on, classically stonerized in the post-Sleep tradition, but becoming increasingly individual. These two songs, with the title-track hypnotizing so that the start of the first verse in “Ice Hauler” is something of a surprise, pair well, and Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships add a taste of slow-boogie to lead them out in the slow fade of the latter, highlighting the riff worship at the heart of their increasingly confident approach. One continues to look forward to what’s to come from them, feeling somewhat greedy for doing so given the substance they’ve already delivered.
The current of feedback or drone noise beneath the rolling motion of Borehead‘s “Phantasm (A Prequel)” — before the sample brings the change into the solo section; anybody know the name of that rabbit? — is indeed a precursor to the textured, open-spaced heavy progressive instrumentalism London trio have on offer with their aptly-titled second EP, 0002. Produced by Wayne Adams at the London-underground go-to Bear Bites Horse Studio, the three-song outing is led by riffs on that opener, patient in its execution and best consumed at high volume so that the intricacy of the bass in “Lost in Waters Deep,” the gentle ghost snare hits in the jazzy first-half break of “Mariana’s Lament” after the ticking clock and birdsong intro, and the start-stop declarative riff that lands so heavy before they quickly turn to the next solo, or, yes, those hidden melodies in “Phantasm (A Prequel)” aren’t lost. These aspects add identity to coincide with the richness of tone and the semi-psychedelic outreach of 0002‘s overarching allure, definitely in-genre, but in a way that seems contingent largely on the band’s interests not taking them elsewhere over time, or at least expanding in multiple directions on what’s happening here. Because there’s a pull in these songs, and I think it’s the band being active in their own development, though four years from their first EP and with nothing else to go on, it’s hard to know where they’ll head or how they’ll get there based on these three tracks. Somehow that makes it more exciting.
With song titles and lyrical themes based around Soviet space exploration, Kosmodrom is the ninth full-length from Parisian death-doomers Monolithe. The band are 20 years removed from their debut album, have never had a real break, and offer up 67 minutes’ worth of gorgeously textured, infinitely patient and serenely immersive death, crossing into synth and sampling as they move toward and through the 26-minute finale “Kosmonavt,” something of a victory lap for the album itself, even if sympathy for anything Russian is at a low at this point in Europe, given the invasion of Ukraine. That’s not Monolithe‘s fault, however, and really at this point there’s maybe less to say about it than there would’ve been last year, but the reason I wanted to write about Kosmodrom, and about Monolithe particularly isn’t just that they’re good at what they do, but because they’ve been going so long, they’re still finding ways to keep themselves interested in their project, and their work remains at an as-high-if-not-higher level than it was when I first heard the 50-minute single-song Monolithe II in 2005. They’ve never been huge, never had the hype machine behind them, and they keep doing what they do anyway, because fuck it, it’s art and if you’re not doing it for yourself, what’s the point? In addition to the adventure each of the five songs on Kosmodrom represents, some moments soaring, some dug so low as to be subterranean, both lush, weighted and beautiful, their ethic and the path they’ve walked deserves nothing but respect, so here’s me giving it.
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 26th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
In 2022, I learned, or at least re-confirmed, that among the great many things for which I’m a sucker is the 11-minute single. Good to know. The new album from El Supremo follows the band’s signing to Argonauta Records last year after releasing Clarity Through Distortion (review here) in 2019. I know the four years between 2019-2023 doesn’t seem like much, but consider that record was the band’s first outing since 2008 and mostly made as a solo-project from Chad Heille (also ex-Egypt), and the prospect of a sophomore full-length piques interest since no matter what it’s doing, it’s bound to be exploring new ground for the band, if only (and likely not only) because they’re actually a band now, and sludgier-rockin’ heads might note that Neal Stein is also an Egypt alum.
What to expect? Heavy groove, if the title-track is anything to go by. It’s a not-insubstantial glimpse at the record, which only runs five tracks, and as the closer, it’s got an exploratory feel that makes it easy to dig as well as sonically hypnotic. Have fun, I guess is what I’m saying. Also I’m looking forward to more. Also, is the cover art AI? I kind of like that I’m not sure.
From the PR wire:
US Instrumental Psych Rockers EL SUPREMO reveal full album details; first single streaming now
Fargo (ND) US-based Psychedelic Rockers EL SUPREMO reveal full details of their highly anticipated new album “Acid Universe”, to be released by ARGONAUTA Records on February 24th.
After their critically acclaimed full length “Clarity Through Distortion” (2019), the band continued with its strong line-up featuring Chad Heille on drums, Neal Stein on guitar, Chris Gould on organ/keys and Cameron Dewald on bass.
El Supremo was originally formed as a one-man project with Chad Heille playing all the instruments and handling recording/production. A self-titled full-length demo was released in 2008, with Tom Canning and Neal Stein contributing guitar solos to the recording.
Chad and Neal went on to play in the band EGYPT from 2012 to 2018. During that time, Egypt released three full-length records, a split LP, made numerous compilation appearances, reissued their first demo and toured 16 different countries playing several notable festivals.
After Egypt split, it was decided to revive the El Supremo name, whose sound today ranges from psychedelic and melodic to heavy and doomy. Influences are rooted in classic rock, stoner rock, blues, and old-school metal.
“Acid Universe” will be released on February 24 by Argonauta Records on VINYL and DIGITAL editions. Watch out for more news to follow in the not so distant future.
TRACKLIST: Crowley Magick The Ghost Of… 261 To Lisbon White Hot Fever Dream Acid Universe
El Supremo: Chad Heille: drums Neal Stein: guitar Chris Gould: organ/keys Cameron Dewald: bass
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 27th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Never too late to bring that fuzz, as Fargo, North Dakota instrumentalists El Supremo proved with 2019’s Clarity Through Distortion (review here), an 11-years-later follow-up to the band’s 2008 demo. That record, which saw Chad Heille — also formerly of Egypt — expand from a solo-project to a full outfit including fellow Egyptian Neal Stein on guitar, will get a sophomore answer sometime next year as the four-piece incarnation of El Supremo have now signed to Argonauta Records.
I promise you I didn’t know this was happening when I closed out last week with the Wo Fat and Egypt split. Just a bit of happenstance timing, I guess. Still, the news is welcome, even if we would seem to be a ways off from a release date or album details. The PR wire has the impending as their third LP, where I was thinking of it as the second, but one way or the other, it’s new tunes and that’ll be just fine, thanks.
Here’s the signing announcement:
Fargo Fuzz Rockers El Supremo Sign With Argonauta Records! New album coming in early 2022!
Fargo, ND, based instrumental rockers EL SUPREMO have inked a worldwide deal with Argonauta Records, who will release the band’s third album in early 2022.
EL SUPREMO was originally formed as a one-man project with Chad Heille playing all the instruments and handling recording/production. A self-titled full-length demo was released in 2008, with Tom Canning and Neal Stein contributing guitar solos. Their most recent album, Clarity Through Distortion, was released in 2019 and features Chad Heille on drums and bass, Neal Stein on guitar and Chris Gould on organ/keys. Influenced by classic and stoner rock, blues and old-school metal, the band‘s vibrant sound ranges from psychedelic and melodic to heavy and doomy.
Chad and Neal went on to play in the band Egypt from 2012 to 2018. During that time, they released three full-length records, a split LP, made numerous compilation appearances, reissued their first demo and toured 16 different countries playing several notable festivals. After Egypt split, they decided to revive the EL SUPREMO name and now backed by Cameron Dewald on bass, they are currently working on their new album for a 2022 release through Argonauta Records.
Says the band: “El Supremo is stoked to be teaming up with Argonauta Records. The last year was a bit of a trial but, we are primed and ready to deliver our best record yet!”
EL SUPREMO is: Chad Heille – Drums Neal Stein – Guitar Cameron Dewald – Bass Chris Gould – Organ/Keys
The secret ingredient is groove. Only it’s not a secret. It’s pretty much right there, the whole time, from the second you press play on Wo Fat‘s near-13-minute opus “Nameless Cults,” and it remains unrelinquished until the entirety of Cyclopean Riffs (review here) is over with the fading jammy strains of Egypt‘s “Ancient Enemy” on side B. Totem Cat Records issued this split in 2013 between the Texan and North Dakotan outfits, and some eight years later it remains a standout in both discographies. And eight years later, I still have no idea what specifically about these riffs makes them cyclopean — Legend of the One-Eyed Riff? — but sometimes a thing sounds cool enough that it doesn’t matter. However many eyes these riffs have — could just as easily be dozens, I’d think — there’s no mistaking two locked-in bands sharing space on a record, hitting it hard with thick tones, big jams and what’s-that-word-again-oh-yeah groove. All the groove.
Even in this age of various split series and releases from Ripple Music‘s The Second Coming of Heavy and Turned to Stone to Heavy Psych Sounds‘ Doom Sessions, and so on, the split is usually an overlooked form when it comes to longer term listening. That is, if two bands are on tour and they put out a seven-inch together to mark the occasion, hey, great. I still have a Pelican/Scissorfight single that I picked up when they played Knitting Factory in Manhattan and it’s a great memory every time I see it. But, series aside, a lot of times bands putting out splits is just about sharing costs for pressing, and there’s always a chance that the two productions will be uneven, or the quality of the material will, or whatever. There’s a lot that can result in a split that gets put on the shelf and left there, either figuratively or literally speaking.
Cyclopean Riffs is the other kind of split. “Nameless Cults” and “Electric Hellhound” finds Wo Fat — guitarist/vocalist Kent Stump (who also recorded), drummer/backing vocalist Michael Walter, bassist Tim Wilson — at a high point. In 2012, the Dallas three-piece offered The Black Code(review here; also discussed here) through Small Stone and it remains a highlight of their catalog as well as of the heavy rock of the last decade more generally. Having perfected their early approach across their first three albums, the fourth was a showcase point from which they’d continue to expand their sound, and the two tracks they brought to the split with Egypt every bit stood up to the LP that preceded them, the former speaking to the more jam-intentioned side of the band while the latter reminded that they’re still songwriters at heart, with a classic energy and an arsenal of hooks. In under 20 minutes, they reaffirm what worked so well on The Black Code, reverse it by putting the longer-form work as the first song on the 12″ (immediate points), and give their listenership another chance to dive in and indulge. The material doesn’t sound like leftovers, mostly I think because it isn’t.
Similarly, Egypt fucking bring it. Based in Fargo, the trio of bassist/vocalist Aaron Esterby, guitarist Neal Stein (who also also recorded), and drummer Chad Heille had issued their debut album, Become the Sun (review here) through Totem Cat and Doomentia Records in January, and thereby offered nearly an hour of call-it-a-slab-worthy heft and nod, offset by an underlying predilection for boogie that came through even the sludgiest of moments. With Esterby‘s rough-edged vocals surrounded by this wash of bobbing-head groove, their two nine-minute inclusions on Cyclopean Riffs — “Blood Temple Hymn” (9:06) and “Ancient Enemy” (9:02) — still ring to me like a bonus round for the record prior, though they’re up to something of their own as well and stand apart in their purpose. With Nolan Brett at Wo Fat‘s Crystal Clear Sound mastering, there’s no dip in production value — Stein engineered and mixed at the Opium Den in Moorhead, Minnesota — and “Blood Temple Hymn” is a dirt-riffer’s daydream, an act of volume worship that’s as much call to prayer as expression of ingrained Sabbathian faith. Fuzz in excelsis. The structure of “Ancient Enemy” is different with its later repeated lines, but neither song is worried about getting mellow when it wants to and riding back to more weighted fare.
The bouncing movement under the solo of “Blood Temple Hymn” is a special moment unto itself, never mind where the release as a whole stands. But the lightning-in-a-bottle truth of Cyclopean Riffs is that it brought two acts together who were hitting their stride and had found their sound at the same time. Their journey there was different, and their sounds were different, but I’m sorry, anyone who wants to debate the quality of what’s on offer here simply hasn’t listened to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cyclopean Riffs was in part responsible for the barrage of split series that started a couple years later. Either way, the work speaks for itself, grooves for itself, and needs no prattling from me to do so.
Egypt would go on to put out two full-lengths after Cyclopean Riffs in 2015’s Endless Flight (review here) and 2017’s Cracks and Lines (review here) before calling it quits for what was actually the second time, the band having broken up before their first album (it’s a long story, but that’s pretty much it). Both bands from here expanded their territory to include Europe. Wo Fat had already been in Spring 2013 for the first of several incursions, playing Roadburn (review here) in the Netherlands, Desertfest, etc., but Egypt would make their way abroad in 2015 to herald Endless Flight, touring with Tombstones en route to Freak Valley Festival, and be back the following Spring after the release, for Desertfest 2016 in London and Berlin. Wo Fat‘s two studio LPs since Cyclopean Riffs, 2014’s The Conjuring (review here) and 2016’s Midnight Cometh (review here), found them continuing to refine their approach. I hear a new one’s in the works and has been for a while now. Half a decade since they were last heard from, I’m ready to find out where they might go.
In any case, sometimes you want groove. Cyclopean Riffs continues to provide. Little bit of a different structure to this post, with the artwork on top instead of the side and the two embedded players. All four tracks weren’t on Bandcamp and I didn’t feel like wading into YouTube. Think of clicking play twice like flipping the sides of a record. I’m sure you can handle it.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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It’s 6:28AM. The Pecan is upstairs, banging away on his walls. He put a hole in the wall of his closet. His bedroom is pretty barren compared to the living room, which doubles as his main play space, but he’s got toys and stuff up there. I guess banging on the wall is more satisfying. He and The Patient Mrs. patched the one hole he made, and he’s made another since. He’s very much that kind of kid.
His last week of camp is this coming week. He has a week and a half between camp ending and school starting — stop me if I’ve told you this already, which I think I might’ve, but it continues to be on my mind — and I’ve been getting up at 4:30 to accommodate that in terms of my own writing schedule. It’s worked to a fair degree, but I find that by the middle of the day, I’m dead on my feet. Or more likely, dead on the couch. He goes upstairs to take a rest in the afternoon and more often than not I nod off wherever I am at least for 15 or 20 minutes, longer if I can. I’d much rather spend the time reading, or writing for that matter, or doing anything vaguely productive, but yeah.
I took this past Monday off from doing a review in order to finish PostWax liner notes for Mammoth Volume. That may just have to be how those get done this Fall, though frankly I hate the thought. But the internet didn’t end without me, as I’ve always told myself it won’t, so an uncommitted day like that can still be put to decent use. The liner notes turned out okay. Lot of personality in that band. Hopefully my writing wasn’t so dry as to sap all of it. Shrug. I do what I do.
This weekend, that’s get questions out for The Otolith to answer. Plenty to talk about there, since the band is “formed from the ashes of” — a phrase I definitely won’t use in the final draft — SubRosa. Plus the record’s awesome, so I could do worse than listening.
Green Lung video interview is gonna go up on Monday. They talk about playing Bloodstock and their new record, which is killer and out in October. Early bird for a chat, I know, but whatever. There’s nothing like advanced notice.
New Gimme Show today at 5PM. Please listen and thanks if you do: http://gimmeradio.com
It’s a good show. Next one will be good too. Already started the playlist, in my head if not actually Google Sheets.
Hey you. Have a great and safe weekend. Thanks for reading. Please hydrate, watch your head, hold your loved ones close and everybody else at a respectable distance, wear your mask when you’re out and about, get your shot if you haven’t, but otherwise, have the fun you can and feel what good you can.
Posted in Reviews on October 1st, 2019 by JJ Koczan
Another day, another batch of 10 reviews on the march to 50 by the end of the week. Will we make it? Yeah, probably. I mean, I think there was once when I had to skip a day or something but even then I made up for it and there’s never been an instance where the Quarterly Review fell apart. The one quarter I decided to nix it (was it last year?) I made up for it by doing 100 reviews instead of 50 the next time out, so we got there eventually. It being Tuesday, the end of the week looks far off, but indeed we’ll ge there eventually, and there’s a lot of good music between now and then, so let’s hit it.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
High on Fire, Bat Salad
A limited vinyl EP released as part of Record Store Day 2019, High on Fire‘s Bat Salad comprises three songs: an original instrumental and two covers, one of Celtic Frost and one of Bad Brains. And I won’t take away from the “Rat Salad” Sabbath-does-blues-jazz-jam-except-it’s-High–on–Fire-so-it-sounds-nasty-as-hell spirit of “Bat Salad” at all, but the real highlight here is hearing Matt Pike‘s gravel-throated vocals take on “Into Crypts of Rays.” Celtic Frost have always been a central factor in what High on Fire were doing stylistically, so to have the band take them on directly seems long in the making. They approach Bad Brains‘ “Don’t Bother Me” with due reverence as well, careening through an intense three-minute burst of energy with the grit and underlying precision one has come to expect from these singular masters. Soon enough, bands will be covering High on Fire with the same spirit of fan homage. Doubly notable for being founding drummer Des Kensel‘s last recorded appearance alongside Pike and bassist Jeff Matz in the band.
Guitarist/vocalist Johni Holiday, bassist Jimmy Glass and drummer Ben Manchino return with Tårn, Ruff Majik‘s second album on a quick turnaround from their 2018 debut, Seasons (review here). Aligned with Lay Bare Recordings for the vinyl release, the deceptively quick and even more deceptively complex seven-track/36-minute offering finds Ruff Majik digging into dirt-caked tonality and classically punkish sneer in Holiday‘s vocals. There are moments where they sound like Queens of the Stone Age (“Speed Hippie”) and moments where they sound like Black Flag (parts of opener “Schizophrenic”), but as a roller like “Heretically Happy” or the earlier post-Zeppelin stoner sneak of “Gloom & Tomb” show, Ruff Majik are perhaps most interested in sounding like themselves. They’re gleeful as they toy with doomed vibes on closer “Seasoning the Witch,” and the seven-minute “I’ll Dig the Grave” earlier thrills with changes drawn together by a pervasive and righteous groove. With Tårn, Ruff Majik have found their wavelength, and it suits them.
Be it heretofore established that sax-laced Kansas City psych-doomers Merlin don’t give a fuck. They don’t give a fuck what you expect, they don’t give a fuck what everyone else is doing, they don’t give a fuck if they meme the crap out of their own band. They’ve got their thing and they’re doing it. And you know what? They’re right. The Mortal is their fifth full-length in six years, following as a sequel to early-2018’s The Wizard (review here), and with flourish galore in arrangements of organ, sax, flute, percussion, accordion, trumpet, etc., alongside the foundation of songcraft that comes through the guitar, bass, drums and always-theatrical vocals of Jordan Knorr, the band recount tales along a dark-magical mystery tour of gorgeously flowing and still-weighted psychedelic plunder. They have become a buried treasure of weirdo/geek rock, and whether it’s the peaceful drift of “Ashen Lake” or the cacophonous heavy riffing of “Basilisk,” the stage-setting prog of “Towerfall” or the consuming swell that carries out the apex of closer “The Mortal Suite” — King Crimson chase and all — Merlin‘s work has never sounded so masterful. Will there be a third installment in the tale? Nothing quite like a trilogy.
They’ve since added a third party in bassist Helen Storer (Fireball Ministry, among others), but Workshed‘s self-titled Rise Above Records debut LP was recorded as the duo of guitarist/vocalist Adam Lehan and drummer Mark Wharton. More than a quarter-century ago, both Lehan and Wharton played on Cathedral‘s pivotal first two albums, but in Workshed, and certainly there are some shades of doom on a stomper like “Anthropophobic” here, but the bulk of Workshed‘s nine-song/47-minute first offering is given to post-Entombed buzzsaw noise sludge, riffs crunched one into the next in an aggro, punk-rooted fashion that rife with a sense of willful punishment that comes through in sheer impact from front to back. Vocals call to mind Tom G. Warrior immediately and are suited to the social commentary of “If This is How it Is” and “This City Has Fallen,” while the grueling march of “A Spirit in Exile” leaves room for some atmosphere to eek through, which it does. They trash out in centerpiece “On Sticks of Wood” and chug their into a last fade on closer “It Doesn’t Have to Be That Way,” but by then they’ve long since made their statement and left a trail of destruction behind them. Would they have been signed to Rise Above without the Cathedral connection? Probably not. Does the album earn their place? Absolutely.
With their first full-length, Mænad, Swiss post-metallers E-L-R cart a gorgeous and textured course through patient and progressive songweaving that lends itself to hypnosis through its churning rhythm as much as its overarching melodies seem to evoke other worlds. It is not without its sense of challenge and certainly plenty heavy in its tone and groove — at least where it wants to be — but it’s also rich and provides a level of depth to its mix that should have others in the genre asking how they did it. A transitional drone at the end of “Devotee” brings about the 10-minute “Above the Mountains There is Light” and a long contemplation begins, working from the ground up on a pilgrim’s path to the eventual payoff. The resonance there is something unto itself, but even as “Ambrosia,” “Lunar Nights” and “The Wild Shore” find the stylistic footing that opener “Glancing Limbs” and “Devotee” seemed to hint at earlier, E-L-R maintain both an ambient sprawl and a consuming sense of passion that makes their work here all the more thrilling. This is a debut, following only a single 2018 demo that had two of the same tracks. What that tells me is look out for this band, because this kind of potential doesn’t come along every day and when it does, you want to be there for the follow-up. The impeccable taste of Prophecy Productions pays dividends once again.
Otherworldly doom rock marked by echoing vocals oozing out from deep in the mix and gotta-hear-it bass tone complemented by choice riffage and a fervent thud in the drums, even if the aesthetic of Richmond’s Sibyl is familiar enough, there’s plenty to dig about their debut EP — what one might’ve called a “demo” in eras past — The Magic Isn’t Real. The stylistic elephant in the room is RVA’s own Windhand, but Sibyl take a more psychedelic path to heavy oblivion, and with four tracks in the range of four to five minutes, The Magic Isn’t Real comes across as well focused in its songwriting despite the ethereal touches in the actual sound. Cool vibe, and as they work some noisy shuffle into “Spinning Webs,” they show themselves as being less restricted than otherwise might be the case if they were purely committed to doomed drudgery. I’ll give bonus points as well for naming the penultimate track “Sexpionage,” just on principle, but it’s in stretches like the subdued creeper opening of “Blood Moon” and the engrossing, still-somehow-moving wash of “Pendulums” that Sibyl really showcase their intention.
London heavy noise duo Golden Legacy offer five tracks and 23 minutes of anti-genre, adrenaline rock to follow-up their 2016 self-titled EP. There’s a strong undercurrent of modern punk and indie to their sound, which is what gets them the “anti-genre” consideration, but it’s the energy of their delivery carrying them one way or the other as they drive through the harsh snare of “Cut and Crash” following the chunkier tone of opener “Moon” and just before centerpiece “Dirty Mouth” finds its way into grunge-style howling beastliness. Comprised of drummer/vocalist Lorena Cachito and guitarist Yanni Georgiou, the two-piece find winning momentum in “Salvation,” while closer “Thirsty” opens with a mellow drum progression gradually joined by the guitar and builds into more progressive and dramatic movement, casting off some of the rawness of the songs before it in favor of more complex fare. It still manages to soar at the end, though, and that seems to be what counts. They might be rawer now than they’ll eventually turn out, but that suits most of what they’re doing in adding to the emotionality on display in Cachito‘s vocals.
Saint Karloff & Devil’s Witches, Coven of the Ultra-Riff
Alright, look. I don’t even think I have the full thing, but whatever. Saint Karloff and Devil’s Witches came together to release the Coven of the Ultra-Riff split — it can be so hard to find the right coven for your family; have you considered the Ultra-Riff? — and they each play an original track and then they cover each other’s songs and then Saint Karloff introduce the progression of “Supervixen (Electric Return)” and Devil’s Witches take up the mantle and run with it on “Supervixen (Acoustic Return),” so yeah, it’s pretty awesome and kind of all over the place but whatever. Get your head around it and get on board with whatever version you can grab. Vinyl came out through Majestic Mountain Records and tapes were through Stoner Witch Records and I’m fairly certain it’s all sold out already and probably stupid expensive on Discogs, but do what you need to do, because this is what Sabbath worship in the year 2019 is supposed to sound like. It’s bombed out of its gourd and has long since dropped out of life. It’s exactly where and what it wants to be.
I’m not going to pretend to have the grounding in post-hardcore to toss off the influences under which Burden Limbs are working, but to listen to the blast of noise in “How Many Times Must I Reset” and the near-industrial wash of noise they conjure in the subsequent “Hypochondriac,” it’s clear they’re working under one influence anyway. There is No Escape (released through Glasshouse Records) runs 24 minutes and carries four songs, but in that time the band around founding figurehead and guitarist/vocalist Chad Murray manage to challenge themselves and the listener alike to keep up with their turns and emotional resonance. Murray is joined by two bassists, another guitarist, keyboards/synth and drums, so yes, there’s something of a busy feel to it, but even echoing cavernous as they are, the vocals seem to draw the songs together around a central presence and add a human core to the proceedings that only makes them all the more affecting as would seem to be the intent.
Sometimes these things take a while, but El Supremo was formed by now-ex-Egypt bassist Chad Heille has a solo-project and released a self-titled demo in 2008, to which Clarity Through Distortion is the follow-up full-length. Now joined by guitarist Neil Stein (also ex-Egypt, and who also played some on the demo) and organist Chris Gould as well as bassist Cam Dewald who came aboard after the album’s completion, the instrumentalist full-band incarnation of El Supremo waste no time diving into dead-on tonal and riffy righteousness, taking classic heavy cues and running with them in modern production richness, sounding clear but natural as a jam like “Moanin’ & Groanin'” turns into a shuffler as it moves into its second half, or the mellow sway of the 14-minute “Supercell” at last runs head-on into the lumbering motion that will carry it through to the end. I don’t know how much clarity — at least of the existential sort I think they mean in the title — they might’ve found by the time the bluesy “Lotus Throne” rolls over into the shreddy “Outro” that caps, but if the method is distortion, they’ve certainly got that part down.
