Manchester, UK, heavy psych instrumentalists Dead Sea Apes release their new album, Psychic Tension, on Sept. 18 through Cardinal Fuzz (UK) and Feeding Tube Records (US). The eclectic trio are prone to collaboration and various one-offs, but through these five songs/40 minutes, they find a balance with guitarist Brett Savage, bassist Jack Toker (also guitar) and drummer Chris Hardman that one couldn’t say is incomplete at all, harnessing sans-vocal exploration with each turn as likely to bring a breakout as a dig-in, the opening track “Damn Your Eyes” accentuating the volatility in their sound and the weirdness that pervades the album when taken as an entirety.
Whether it’s the scorch of “Psychic Tension” or the riff-extrapolation into mad cacophony of centerpiece “Severance,” Dead Sea Apes offer a glimpse at chaos without actually being in danger of coming off the rails. Also the rails are made of jelly. Also so is your brain. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. Obviously cognizant of modern post-this-or-that, they’re less about adhering to genre and more about carving their own space. They’ve been at it for 17 years, so their control of the tumult shouldn’t be a surprise — 2023’s Rewilding was a little more stripped down, its companion-piece Rewilder boasted longer-form jams; Psychic Tension has this cake and eats it too — and it’s evident from “Damn Your Eyes” forward, the seven-and-a-half-minute leadoff playing to both the end-result mindset and the spontaneity with which that’s infused. Again, this is core methodology to Dead Sea Apes, and they’ve got 10 records plus a slew of collaborations that’s led them to this point, but it’s to their credit that the music still carries a spirit of pushing forward, of eschewing comfort zones. Expertise without self-importance? It’s almost punk, in that way.
The gleefully noisy finish of “Severance” — I know that’s a tv show; I don’t know if the song has anything to do with it or not — gives over to the welcome-to-the-B-side pairing of two nine-minute cuts “Ursa Minor” and “Deathless,” and the bassy rumble and light guitar feedback at the outset of the former establishes a sense of arrival even before the willfully slow roll kicks in. From there it’s heavy psychedelic glories by the dozen, a righteous and righteously Britpsych flow that just might have you also thinking of The Heads-style freakouts, but that mellows in its middle and goes exploring from there, never really building back to that initial force. That’s a choice rather than an oversight; it’s not like Dead Sea Apes haven’t to that point demonstrated they know how to pay off a progression, they’re just doing something else with “Ursa Minor.” If that has you expecting a noisy onslaught in “Deathless,” you’re partially right, there are a couple genuine swells of solo-burnt noise in amid the more subdued movement and moderated tempo, but the loud parts are no more the point of the thing than the quiet. It’s the balance of both and the repetition surrounding that makes it effective.
Whether they’re cross-genre or anti-genre or however you want to frame it, stylistic individualism is part of what’s being pursued in Psychic Tension, and by that I mean Dead Sea Apes aren’t trying to sound like anyone so much as themselves. That’s an inward plunge, and for sure the songs bear out that introversion — they’re not blastbeats and deathgrowls in terms of extremity, but neither is the record immediately accessible — but among the converted and the peristently weird, this is a thing to be celebrated. I guess it depends on what kind of brain you have, how far it’ll take you. You can get lost in the intricacy, the nuance of each change and the heady but not overly cerebral vibe being cast, or you can put your earbuds in and succumb to the wash. I’m not here to advocate one over the other, but whether you’ve heard them before or not, Dead Sea Apes are built to go and ready to take you with them.
Psychic Tension premieres in full on the player below, followed by more from the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Dead Sea Apes, Psychic Tension album premiere
Dead Sea Apes are back with a fierce new album Psychic Tension – an urgent soundtrack for the nerve-shredding times we live in. Our collective psyche is under attack, reeling from the chaos of a modern world under siege: from war, death, destruction and climate catastrophe to political decay, media manipulation, growing inequality and the rank depravity of the so-called elite. Do we overload ourselves with anxiety, vent our frustration at others, make token gestures to ease our conscience, or just try to carry on regardless? Dead Sea Apes have wrestled these dilemmas – this Psychic Tension – into sonic/musical form, creating catharsis from the chaos.
Psychic Tension picks up where the previous album Rewilding left off, carrying forward the momentum of massive riffs, juggernaut rhythms and squalling sonic overload. Noise-rock, Japanese psych, minimal dub and Electric-era Miles are all part of the mix: each member of Dead Sea Apes brings decades of musical exploration to bear on the music. The iterative repetition of Can meets the telepathic mind-meld of the power trio; the deceptive simplicity of Crazy Horse is pulled through the sonics of PSF Records; the live-in-the-practice-room energy is bolstered by layered landscapes of sound – from ethereal echoes to feedback drones to transistor-torturing lead lines.
Psychic Tension Tracklist: 01. Damn Your Eyes 02. Psychic Tension 03. Severance 04. Ursa Minor 05. Deathless
Dead Sea Apes is: Brett Savage – Guitars Jack Toker – Bass, Guitars Chris Hardman – Drums
Posted in Reviews on August 12th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Today is the traditional passing-the-midpoint of the Quarterly Review — hump day, if you need it on humping terms — and indeed, this 50-release QR keeps with that tradition. It’s been almost absurdly easy so far to get through, as the best of them are, and not one day — including this one — has passed without me adding at least two releases from each batch of 10 to my notes for year-end list time. That’s a pretty impressive rate, even for an old softy like me, but the bottom line always is that I hope you find something you enjoy even as I do the same. I think maybe I needed this kind of dig-in more than I realized when I started slating what I was going to be writing about. I guess that happens sometimes.
Let’s keep the thing going.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Warning, Rituals of Shame
Some 20 years after releasing their landmark second album, Watching From a Distance, Patrick Walker-led emotive doom metal pioneers Warning return with a potentially landmark third, Rituals of Shame. The band’s first outing in that long — though Walker has divided his time with 40 Watt Sun and issued solo material as well — is no less grueling of tempo or willfully emotionally laborious for that, and Walker‘s voice remains singularly wrenching such that the 12-minute opening title-track (also the longest; immediate points) feels like it’s pulling you down into the melancholic world that the rest of the 45-minute LP goes on to make, from the plodding “Stations” to, well, the also-plodding “Teacher,” never veering from its purpose or lifting the tonal or melodically-depressive weight once applied. Rituals of Shame is an odd fit for being tagged as ‘brutal,’ but it is its own kind of extremity-of-form nonetheless, and a challenge that sets its terms early and (quietly) dares you to follow the path its songs lay out.
Cambodia-via-UK outfit Mike Bee & The Acid Fuzz Trio follows the psychedelic leaning adventures of its namesake songwriter/guitarist/vocalist Mike Bee (also Last Bee on Earth, Deep Sky Revival, etc.) across White Noise Sound from the blinding garage tone-bite of its leadoff title-cut through mellowstoner and dub of “Goodbye Mary Jane” and “Beyond the Wheel,” riffing bluesier on “Hey Bong!” and getting fuzzy and Bowie-gone-desert-contemplative in “Johnny The Living Star” to set up the fierce groove of “Rise Like a Phoenix” at the end, the seven-song/26-minute album — it’s short, but feels like an LP more than an EP, so I’m making the call myself — has hooks a-plenty and gets playful on “Lion, Sword and Sun” without sounding like a ’60s put-on or something like that, each inclusion establishing its own atmosphere while adding to the admittedly understated breadth of the whole. It’s a weird one, to be sure, but for those who can make their way to its wavelength, the songs will stick to whatever membranes you got.
Teké Collective would seem to be one of several projects under the operating umbrella of Milan, Italy, producer Marino-Angelo Scordilis, and on the new single “Remember and Hope” (7:18), the Collective features no fewer than seven other contributors, including True Canyon‘s spoken word in the second half and a variety of synth and percussion. It is exploratory but aware of the influences from which it draws, and winds up as a kind of world-prog rock. There are psychedelic aspects but it’s too clearheaded to be lysergic, and with all the tight funk in the first half of the song, reminds a bit of earlier P-Funk‘s ability to go anywhere it wants, though the stylistic context here is different. Texture in the two guitars and synth take hold early, but it’s the bass that carries it through the midsection into the slowdown, and the story — a narrative about the power of memory to overcome oppression — is fluidly told with a sense of joy rather than mourning something lost, even though it is that too. There’s a lot packed into one seven-minute single, but it works.
This record came out almost a year ago, so what am I doing reviewing it now? Well, here’s a friendly reminder that music doesn’t have an expiration date, and that I’m only one person and I’m a human being, some stuff is gonna slip by. But with Carson bringing enough hooks and fuzz for the whole class, it seemed like engaging with the eight songs of their confident, strident third full-length, When Gods Know Why, was its own excuse for doing, so there you go. Following 2022’s The Willful Pursuit of Ignorance (review here) with memorable burners like “Engine Down” and the melody-forward grungier twist of “Snow White,” the careening desert rocker “Marion Morrison,” the post-Truckfighters shove of “Drip,” and so on, the Lucerne, Switzerland, three-piece are a reminder of the moving power of heavy rock and roll, and I mean that both physically and in the energetic atmosphere wrought throughout the album all the way up to the blowout at the end of “Only for the Scorned.” Increasingly, they’re a name you can trust. Sorry to have missed this last September. Not sorry to be caught up now.
Polling social media to effect a vox populi, Massachusetts doom folker Buzzard asks the query of our times — “what the fuck?” — over and over again in “Hillbilly Fuckery,” presented in the original and extra-crispy extended versions on this three-songer two-songer, joined with the narrative “Appalachian Blood Bourbon” as the heavy fuzz flows with Christopher Elliott in call and response verses carrying the energy of the song prior (and after), more than filler as complements go, but shorter and somewhat overtaken by all the voices surrounding. The banjo — a regular feature in Buzzard‘s work as the project has taken shape over the last couple years — carries the rhythm along with slide guitar and lumbering, weighted tone, and “Appalachian Blood Bourbon” pairs well for that, its lyrics calling out Hungarian vampires moving to Kentucky and founding an LLC. Buzzard has already announced a Fall LP release, Hush Now, and this as well as other recent singles will feature as CD bonus tracks, which is reasonable considering how much obviously went into their making, answering as well as asking that central question.
Beginning with the 10-minute atmospheric doom clarion “Crimson Skies,” The Unfolding at the End of Light is the debut album from Peruvian four-piece Illwind, which features current and former members of Reino Ermitaño, Arcada, Argul and Death Invoker, and it arrives with a sense of self accordant to the storied pedigree of its component players. Heavy as buildings and modernly grim of mood, the six-song/47-minute paean finds a balance with (relatively) uptempo fare like the shorter, daring-toward-swing “Portal” before digging back in for “God of Sleep” — note the dreamy part in the second half — and 13-minute finale “Lucifer’s Mule,” which shifts from its acoustic guitar/sample intro to a lumbering procession that’s as spacious as it is consuming. But the inclusion of a bonus cover of The Stooges ultra-classic “Now I Wanna Be Your Dog” — inarguably one of the greatest riffs of all riffy time — bringing it into their established-by-then stylistic context, blowing it out, and capping with an assault of feedback and noise. Lifesblood, this is.
Forgive me speaking personally for a bit, but there are some records that I just feel lucky to have heard. I don’t think you get to be a blogger for 17-plus years without making some seriously questionable life decisions, but I feel validated in the slacker-stoner/domestic-boheme lifepath I’ve apparently chosen hearing II from Chicago terracosmos explorers Spiral Galaxy, whose bridge between effects drone and organic elements reminds of pocket highlights like Montibus Communitas while singing praise to nature with otherworldly sounds. Wholly immersive, welcoming and warm, even with the building thud of “Wir Fur Sea,” II comes across as ceremonial for more than just the rampant flute, and unflinching in the beauty it captures, with “Future Fauna” taking place across its own bed of psych drone and the brief conclusion “Umbra” as a goodbye that feels all too soon. I missed this band’s 2020 debut. Clearly I need to go back and rectify that, but first I’ll just go ahead and put II on my list of this year’s best albums, with the acknowledgement that any kind of temporal placement is selling short its reaches.
If you’ve ever wondered what Gurt‘s pummeling party sludge might sound like adopting grooves from Powerman 5000 and collaborating with a rapper — and if you have, kudos on your hyperspecific curiosity — the three-and-a-half-minute “No Limit” on the London outfit’s three-song Survival of the Shittest has your answer. The purposeful-in-their-yuck troupe have been at this at least 15 years now and they know with what they’re fucking. EP opener “Live Nation, Dead Scene” (2:49) feels rooted in extreme metal but still finishes with a massive, rolling riff, and the centerpiece title-track — you know they’re English because “shit” is a relative noun, as in “a bit shit”; in US English that’s “Shittiest,” which is clearer but doesn’t sound as fun — takes the violence-of-impact up another notch ahead of the playful-if-you-know-they’re-goofballs nu-metal delve. Gurt don’t owe anyone anything at this point musically — no doubt they’re racked with actual-debt like everyone else — but they’re pretty obviously still having fun crushing and gnashing as they are. Does that make them survivors? Are they the shittest? I don’t know, but they go upside your head hard enough to make you forget to ask.
As to what’s stopping Four — the first release in a decade from UK five-piece Crumbling Ghost — from being neofolk, the answer I think is mostly down to the lack of pretense and the heavier tones surrounding the rootsy vocal melodies. The seven-track offering finds itself embracing shades, hues, spirits, whatever-you-want-to-call-them from post-heavy and the ambience is crucial as “Bows of London” and “Bill Norrie” set the 36-minute LP forth, the latter bringing in the max-heft end of their dynamic range that the later “The Unquiet Grave” will use as a whole-album crescendo, but while “Wassail” is noisier and “Lovely Joan” is like a medieval heavy strut, the key is in their ability to change their approach from one piece to the next without letting go of the folkish vocals overarching. Thus they can get as heavy as they want — and do — and “Last of All Sleep” doesn’t have to feel discordant in its move from acoustics to a grunge wash and “Valtz Efter Tor Lohne” resonates as cohesive even as an instrumental. I don’t know their history or where they’ve been for 10 years, but the combination of atmospheric heavy and folk they harness here is markedly their own.
Danceable and violent in kind, Los Angeles industrial metal trio Purest Form present the six-song/15-minute Resistance EP ahead of appearing at Chicago’s Cold Waves Festival next month. “Beyond Terror” hints in its “Reptile”-y procession toward some underlying Nine Inch Nails influence, but there’s some aspect of retroism about the band’s aggressive take, vocalist Story providing the bite corresponding to the chug of “Animal” and the otherwise drum’n’bass-ish shove of “Bass Resistance” a short time later. This ’90s-informed take finds its ultimate fruition in the concluding cover of The Prodigy‘s “Breathe,” which from what I read is a staple of live sets. Fair enough, but its in the frenetic charge of “Move” that Purest Form demonstrate more what they’re bringing of themselves to push beyond their influences, and as brash as their sound is, one hopes that continues to evolve as they move forward. Intensity and immediacy are assets working in their favor, though, here and on their past EPs.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 16th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
“Psychic Tension” is both the title-track and the first single from Dead Sea Apes‘ impending full-length. Set to release Sept. 18 through Feeding Tube Records and Cardinal Fuzz, the album follows 2023’s Rewilding, though the band also had a collaborative self-titled out under the moniker of Celestial Power earlier this year, so I’m honestly not sure what counts for what. The point, I suppose, is that the single is at the bottom of this post. If you’re feeling overwhelmed — as one might be midweek — my advice to you is get those earbuds in, go someplace you can be alone if you can and it’s safe, and then blast yourself with it. Volume as physical catharsis for in-brain relief. If you’re driving, you might just hit a tree.
The PR wire put it as follows:
Dead Sea Apes Announce New Album ‘Psychic Tension’
Immersive Title Track Unveiled
Manchester’s heavy psych cosmonauts Dead Sea Apes return on the 18th September 2026 with their new album, Psychic Tension. A sprawling cosmic journey, the record arrives via a transatlantic partnership between Cardinal Fuzz and Feeding Tube Records.
Artist: Dead Sea Apes Title: Psychic Tension Label: Cardinal Fuzz / Feeding Tube Records Release Date: 18 September 2026 Format: Vinyl / CD / DL
Dead Sea Apes are back with a fierce new album Psychic Tension – an urgent soundtrack for the nerve-shredding times we live in. Our collective psyche is under attack, reeling from the chaos of a modern world under siege: from war, death, destruction and climate catastrophe to political decay, media manipulation, growing inequality and the rank depravity of the so-called elite. Do we overload ourselves with anxiety, vent our frustration at others, make token gestures to ease our conscience, or just try to carry on regardless? Dead Sea Apes have wrestled these dilemmas – this Psychic Tension – into sonic/musical form, creating catharsis from the chaos.
Psychic Tension picks up where the previous album Rewilding left off, carrying forward the momentum of massive riffs, juggernaut rhythms and squalling sonic overload. Noise-rock, Japanese psych, minimal dub and Electric-era Miles are all part of the mix: each member of Dead Sea Apes brings decades of musical exploration to bear on the music. The iterative repetition of Can meets the telepathic mind-meld of the power trio; the deceptive simplicity of Crazy Horse is pulled through the sonics of PSF Records; the live-in-the-practice-room energy is bolstered by layered landscapes of sound – from ethereal echoes to feedback drones to transistor-torturing lead lines.
Dead Sea Apes have always followed their own path, the music instinctively wired into the world around them. On Psychic Tension, they have once again cooked up a sound that is wholly their own, speaking directly to the turmoil within us and surrounding us in these wild times.
Psychic Tension Tracklist: 01. Damn Your Eyes 02. Psychic Tension 03. Severance 04. Ursa Minor 05. Deathless
Formed in 2009, the band have become a cornerstone of the independent scene, releasing over 10 albums – including collaborations with artists such as The Band Whose Name Is A Symbol and Black Tempest. Much of their catalogue has found a home on the widely celebrated UK psychedelic label Cardinal Fuzz, alongside stateside partnerships with the legendary Feeding Tube Records.
Live Dates: 17/07/2026 – Outpost, Liverpool w/ Mugstar, Shoun Shoun 09/08/2026 – Kozfest, Penmaenau Farm, Builth Wells 13/09/2026 – Golden Lion, Todmorden [Album Release Party]
Dead Sea Apes is: Brett Savage – Guitars Jack Toker – Bass, Guitars Chris Hardman – Drums
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 3rd, 2026 by JJ Koczan
On the heels of their latest album, Shapes Unravel (review here), which came out in Feb. of this year, and the corresponding West Coast tour they undertook to celebrate the release, Oregonian heavy psych Americana/folk-mystique rockers Abronia have announced that they’ll come to the East Coast for the first time.
The first time! I have to admit, I’ve got some big feelings about this one. The prospect of seeing Abronia live, which I’ve absolutely considered flying to Portland to do, is enough to make me dread the drive to Brooklyn a full month in advance of actually making it. But this is a see-them-when-you-can scenario, in addition to being their first time so far out in the decade-ish existence of the band. I’ve got it on the calendar and holy hell I hope I can make it to that show. That’s all I have to say about it.
From social media and such:
🪭Maiden voyage on the horizon. 📡🗺️🚐🗺️📡This summer will be our first time going out to the Midwest and East Coast!
Dates are like this:
7/25 – Rainier, OR @ Camp Wilkerson–Family Reunion Campout Festival 7/30 – Columbus @ Rambling House w/ Burning Brain Band, Snake Man 7/31 – Pittsburgh @ Government Center w/ The Long Hunt, Prepare Thyself 8/01 – Baltimore @ Current Space w/ Functionary, Deep Essence 8/02 – Brooklyn @ Mama Tried w/ Prison, Vague Plot 8/03 – Philadelphia @ Ortlieb’s w/ Earthen Jug, Cartoon + Bill Nace 8/04 – Westfield, MA @ Hutghi’s w/ Kryssi + Wednesday, Sky Furrows 8/05 – Rochester @ The Psychic Garden w/ Fox 45, Brainwash Victim 8/06 – Cleveland @ Grog Shop w/ Brood X, Powers/Rolin Duo 8/07 – Detroit @ Paris Bar w/ MRKT, The Dr. Pete Larson Group 8/08 – Chicago @ Hammy Wammy w/ Drazek Fuscaldo, Plastic Crimewave Syndicate
Shapes Unravel is out now via Cardinal Fuzz & Feeding Tube Records.
Abronia is – Keelin Mayer: Vocals, Tenor Saxophone, Flute Rick Pedrosa: Pedal Steel, Percussion Robert Grubaugh: Big Drum, Percussion, Melodica Danny Metcalfe: Bass James Shaver: Guitar Eric Crespo: Guitar, Backing Vocals
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 25th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Portland heavy Americana psych rockers Abronia set out this weekend in support of their new album, Shapes Unravel (review here), which is out on Cardinal Fuzz/Feeding Tube Records, playing in Oregon and Washington ahead of more shows next month in Oregon and California. It’s not a weeks-long tour, but they’re hitting their spots nonetheless, and the record makes a worthy cause for the going. No idea if more dates will follow, if anything’s planned for the East Coast or the Midwest, or what. All I know is these shows came through the PR wire and it was an excuse to put the record on while I was writing about them, and I was happy for that.
If you’ve not yet heard it, you’ll find it streaming at the bottom of this post and can discover for yourself why I’d be glad for that excuse:
Abronia Announce West Coast Tour
Shapes Unravel LP Out Now via Cardinal Fuzz & Feeding Tube Records
Portland based band Abronia have announced a February/March 2026 West Coast tour. The run includes dates at Portland, OR’s Mississippi Studios (2/26), Cottage Grove, OR’s Axe & Fiddle (3/24), Oakland, CA’s Thee Stork Club (3/26), Chico, CA’s Naked Lounge (3/27), and more. Full routing and select ticket links can be found below. The tour is in support of their recently released album, Shapes Unravel.
Abronia Live 2/26 – Portland, OR – Mississippi Studios 2/27 – Seattle, WA – Add-A-Ball 2/28 – Bellingham, WA – Makeshift 3/7 – Eugene, OR – Art House 3/24 – Cottage Grove, OR – Axe & Fiddle w/ McKenzie & the Last Responders 3/25 – Hayfork, CA – Northern Delights w/ The Glow Twins 3/26 – Oakland, CA – Thee Stork Club 3/27 – Chico, CA – Naked Lounge 3/28 – Arcata, CA – The Miniplex
Shapes Unravel is Abronia’s most ambitious and compositionally daring record to date—the album moves with a strange gravitational pull, layering grief, haunted memory, and flashes of transcendence into something emotionally expansive and structurally bold. Moments of crushing weight give way to eerie stillness, held together by an urgency that feels vital, not calculated. It’s a record that doesn’t politely wait for your attention; it pulls you into its orbit whether you’re ready or not.
Over the past decade, Abronia has been refining their singular blend of widescreen psychedelia, desert noir, Eastern drone, avant-jazz, doom, post-punk, and acid-folk—channeling something that feels at once ritualistic and cinematic. From the first thud of their 32-inch bass drum to the coil of pedal steel winding through the haze, the sound of this Portland-based six-piece is unmistakable.
Shapes Unravel is out now via Cardinal Fuzz & Feeding Tube Records.
Abronia is – Keelin Mayer: Vocals, Tenor Saxophone, Flute Rick Pedrosa: Pedal Steel, Percussion Robert Grubaugh: Big Drum, Percussion, Melodica Danny Metcalfe: Bass James Shaver: Guitar Eric Crespo: Guitar, Backing Vocals
Posted in Reviews on February 13th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Resonance and texture are not new elements in the work of Oregonian heavy psychedelic Americana explorers Abronia. Indeed, one could argue their principal stylistic declarations were made nine years ago on their first album, Obsidian Visions / Shadowed Lands (review here), at least as regards arrangements centered around the ‘big drum’ rather than a traditional kit — and yes, it is a large bass drum being hit, complemented by cymbals, shakers and various other now-you-have-to-be-creative-type percussion — with pedal steel guitar used for place-setting (‘vibes’ they call it now; everything is vibes) and lysergic flourish. And I’ll point out that I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Abronia showed up nearly a decade ago with a clear idea of what they wanted to do, and as they’ve refined their approach, their music to-date has painted pictures accordingly. Never with so purposeful a hand and never quite so vividly as on Shapes Unravel, their fourth full-length.
The guitars of James Shaver (who was originally on the drum) and Eric Crespo (also backing vocals) are recognizable in style and tone and breath, and Keelin Mayer remains of marked vocal presence and command, be it the primal scream therapy taking place at the end of opening track “New Imposition,” which holds a grandeur that makes it feel broader than its four-and-a-half-minute runtime, or the confident staccato delivery alongside Mayer‘s own flute in “Gemini” regrounding with a hook after the expansive “Walker’s Dead Birds,” which isn’t to mention the tenor sax in the latter track with which she seems to be in a nonlingual conversation. Rick Pedrosa‘s pedal steel can add twang or mood, depending on the need, and Danny Metcalfe‘s bass is given all the more room for the compared-to-a-full-kit stripped-down nature of the drum, handled by Robert Grubaugh. But as second cut “Mirrored Ends of Light” eschews the rawer payoff of “New Imposition” and moves from its earlier ’60s-ish shuffle in favor of a more poised-feeling, Morricone-cinematic crescendo (not their first time in the Spaghetti West), Shaver‘s arrangements of viola and violin (played by Miles Wierer-Huling) and trumpets (played/recorded by Cory Gray) bring the procession to another level. It is not bombastically heavy and it doesn’t need to be. It carries a sunbeaten weight of centuries in its atmosphere.
In addition to this, there is a maturity in the songwriting across Shapes Unravel that gives a greater sense of flow between tracks even as each one adds something different to that mix. At seven songs/35 minutes, it’s not by any means an unmanageable listen, but in part not being overloaded in terms of runtime is emblematic of how Shapes Unravel makes its every decision count. The way that crescendo in “Mirrored Ends of Light” builds up around Mayer‘s vocalizing. The way “Weapons Against Progress” conveys a forward movement in its rhythm and puts a bluesier twist on the guitar, or the matched step of the lyric “I’m all over your cold shoulder” with the light-footed instrumental march of “Petals and Sand.” Shapes Unravel makes highlights of its details, and it’s not about one instrument or the other being pushed higher in the mix to get a showcase, but instead about where a song is going and what most serves it.
“Walker’s Dead Birds” is the longest inclusion at 6:35 and starts with a prairie raga pedal-steel daybreak, shifting smoothly into its verse before introducing the crashes that hint at a volume surge to come. The verses are declarative, the execution patient and confident because they know where they’re going and why, even as the second half lets loose into a drift of intertwining layers of guitar, saxophone and a mounting swell of distortion, but when the peak has been reached, it’s the central, quiet verse progression that remains, and they push through a return from whence they came before the song is done, tying it together fluidly and leaving little question as to how “Walker’s Dead Birds” wound up as the centerpiece that it is.
Abronia‘s last outing was the 2023 live-in-a-cabin release The High Desert Sessions (review here), which came just a year out from 2022’s third album, Map of Dawn (review here). There have been some lineup changes around Crespo, Mayer, Pedrosa and Shaver, as Grubaugh and Metcalfe are making their respective first appearances with the band, but the freshness of the rhythm section certainly doesn’t hurt, as both the steady roll of “Weapons Against Progress” and the subtle motion of the penultimate “Petals and Sand” — which feels almost minimalist at its outset but grows organically to a wash by its finish without losing control of the melody so central to its effect on the listener. Preceded by a return of strings on “Gemini” (this time played by Kate Kilbourne), ” along with the already-noted flute and I’ll just call it grace, “Petals and Sand” is melancholic triumph of a manner that emphasizes the care put into the craft across the board, and closer “Asleep in the Porcelain House” offers a tasteful linear build that, to the last, brings to light just how many routes Abronia have to get their material where it’s going, seeming to push beyond “Petals and Sand” to a next stage, Mayer‘s screams recalling “New Imposition” or the ending of “Walker’s Dead Birds,” other moments where the restraint gives way.
Shapes Unravel was recorded by Evan Mersky, with additional recording by Crespo, TJ Thompson and Cory Gray, and mixed by Larry Crane. And even before you get to the strings or the trumpets or Mayer‘s sax or Grubaugh‘s melodica, there’s a lot put into even its most subdued-feeling moments. Ultimately, though, the balance Abronia strike in these songs demonstrates not only complexity, but the reasoning behind it, and whether one wants to sit and peruse the ambient details of “Weapons Against Progress” or let the whole album play out as one longer, cohesive mass, it works, and the title repetitions in “Gemini” are as much a part of why as the illustrated scope of “Mirrored Ends of Light.” It is an accomplishment that could only have come by the manner it did — something a band pursued as they pushed themselves creatively on ground new and familiar — and so feels all the more masterful.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on December 29th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
First of all, I’d like to go on record and say calling Kandodo‘s Solstice a ‘collection’ sounds pretentious as hell, and it was my idea, so don’t go around blaming the psych-experimentalist (mostly) solo-project of Simon Price (The Heads) for it. It’s an original. In my defense, you’ve got two separate LPs comprised of four different mixes of what seems to be the same root piece — that’s “Solstice,” not that the changeover from “Solstice” to “Solstice Dub” is broadly discernable on Solstice/Dub — and if that’s enough to send your mind reeling, wait until you put it on.
You know what the problem with today is? People don’t have 22 minutes to stare blankly and turn off their mind to watch a psychedelically manipulated drone video with flashing colors and scenes from old Brigitte Bardot and Claudia Cardinale western movies in slow motion. I know it’s not the most reasonable expectation that someone is going to do that, but I’m not sure Kandodo is supposed to be or is about being reasonable, so much as — especially here — it’s about the malleability of sound and the low-key revelry that comes from playing in it. Don’t ask me where “Solstice/Dusk (Acid Western Mix)” fits in the grand scheme of the project — I’m assuming it’s an edit more than a remix of what streams below as the first half of “Solstice Dusk/Dawn” on the album of the same name; recorded on one solstice, released on another — but if you feel like you know anything about anything by the time you’re done listening, go back and start over.
A lot of the distinction between the various “Solstice” pieces under the Solstice banner will come down to where Price‘s guitar has its more howling moments. These two albums were made in partial collaboration with Hugh Morgan, also of The Heads, and that too becomes part of the fleshing out around the looped foundation that lies beneath all the ensuing fuzz, meditative swirl and otherwise out-there-ness. Whatever other shenanigans it’s getting up to, “Solstice/Dusk (Acid Western Mix)” represents the scope of the project as well as one could without actually putting in the front-to-back time to hear it, and after the credits have rolled for what might be The Legend of Frenchie King, the last few minutes are spent at the water line on what looks like a lake as the drone swells and recedes in volume.
It would be easy to lose a day or two, especially on headphones, with all the tiny nuances poking through at your consciousness in a way enhanced by physical proximity of the sound to your brain, to hearing these works test the limits of where psych ends, where songs end, and where whatever comes after begins. But if you wake up and find it’s Wednesday evening and wonder what happened, you can’t say you weren’t warned.
I should note that when I started this post, Brigitte Bardot was still alive. She’s since passed away at the age of 91. Her later years were, as I’ve found out in the interim, spent being a racist asshole, but apparently she also did a lot of work with animals? It’s hard being a person and trauma finds many forms of expression. Anyway, if you hadn’t heard, she’s dead. Fabulous coincidence I’m posting this video today.
Enjoy:
Kandodo, “Solstice/Dusk (Acid Western Mix)” official video
kandodo ‘solstice dusk’ full audio/visual treatment video by simon price acid western cut featuring BB and CC https://kandodo.bandcamp.com/album/solstice-dusk-dawn 1 of 4 mixes of this track (solstice/dub/dusk/dawn) on 12″/dl insta. @laud_hyena
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 13th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this kind of thing, but, uh, Kandodo‘s got two new LPs coming out next month — on the solstice, suitably enough since that’s apparently also when they were recorded I think I saw somewhere? — with the titles Solstice: Dusk / Dawn and Solstice: Dub, they’re both streaming below, and you could go ahead and play both at the same time right now. Like, together. I’m pretty sure that’s not how they were meant to be heard, since the one is a minute longer than the other, but it’s all the more a slab of impossible psychedelic twists with both going, and I kind of dig that. I’m like seven minutes in and oops I just melted. No more bones.
No disrespect, of course, to Simon Price, who is the principal behind Kandodo, working in collaboration here with his former The Heads bandmate Hugo Morgan, but I have to imagine somebody who’s spent the last 35-plus years opening up fissures in spacetime with his guitar might be able to get down with a little experiential flexibility. If that’s not the case, I do apologize.
I didn’t know these LPs were coming until I was on Cardinal Fuzz‘s Bandcamp for the Abronia record the other day, and I’m glad as hell I stopped by. All this info and the audio at the bottom comes from there:
EUROPE – Cardinal Fuzz / Rooster Rock USA – Feeding Tube Records
“A sonic solstice, a total double dissolver.” Cardinal Fuzz and Feeding Tube Records, both seasoned navigators of the deep zone, present two new kandodo 12”s – Solstice / Dub and Dusk / Dawn. Two records orbiting one deep pulse, each presented in a unique bespoke deluxe screen printed outer sleeve finish. Includes download for full pelagic bliss.
From the psychedelic shack in Northumberland, Simon Price (kandodo) has spent two years coaxing these sounds into being, eighty minutes, four sides, each a branch reaching out from the same shimmering sonic tree. A slow unfurling of heady drift and cosmic fuzz,the sound bending like light across the equinox, refracted through delays, flanges and fuzz until it folds in on itself. Hugo Morgan (the heads) joins on low-end duties, sending tremors through the deep ether where the basslines anchor the drift, turning the horizon to liquid and the floor to vibration
Four longform trips, each a 20-minute drift through the same solar pulse seen from different angles, all refracted through a sike sonic toolbox. A headphone treat at 20,000 feet or cranked loud on the stereo. They’re glimmering portals, longform meditations, head-expanding drift zones to lose yourself in, built for the hour when everything dissolves, preferably at 2AM, lights low, synapses wide open, the turntable spinning like a slow planet. Each side a transmission that captures the same essence but from a different vantage point. ‘Solstice’ brings the march of fuzz, tremeloes pulling you under. The dub burns with the bright hum of eternal noons and shards of phased harmonics. ‘Dusk’ slinks into the cool breath of the coming dark. ‘Dawn’ lets slip earthly bounds and shimmers into deep space, going beyond beyond.
Dubbed, delayed, distorted, this is kandodo in full expansion mode, an an aural equinox, a sonic solstice, a total double dissolver.
One pulse, four horizons, infinite zones. Drop the needle, watch time blur and dive deep. See yous on the other side.
carries a spirit of pushing forward, of eschewing comfort zones. Expertise without self-importance? It’s almost punk, in that way.
