Posted in Whathaveyou on September 21st, 2026 by JJ Koczan
I did my best to avoid social media this past weekend as Ripplefest Texas 2026 took place, correctly figuring that seeing the absolute blast everyone in attendance was having and posting about would do me and my whatever-you-call-FOMO-when-you-know-you-already-missed-out ass no good. Even so, I managed to catch the Austin-based forerunner heavyfest posting the first names from its 2027 lineup, which will bring Greenleaf back (presumably their new album will be out by then) and feature the returning Sasquatch as well as imports Gaupa, The Devil and the Almighty Blues and Daily Thompson alongside High Desert Queen — whose frontman Ryan Garney runs the thing — Woorms and New Orleans’ Suplecs, who earlier this year made an awaited studio comeback.
This is just the beginning, of course. I’m curious if YOB, who had to cancel this year, will reconfirm, but obviously there’s a whole year between now and the fest to find out. In the meantime, tickets are on sale and it’s a good moment to start the hype, as obivously those who were lucky enough to be there this year are stoked on the thought of returning. Once again, Ripplefest Texas showing everyone how it’s done.
So, from socials:
RippleFest Texas will be back and bigger than ever next year! Clear your calendars for September 16-19, 2027 for the best family reunion in the world! It will once again be held at The Far Out Lounge and the Sagebrush in Austin, TX.
Only 100 4 Day Passes are on sale now! Don’t miss out on the best deal possible for 4 days of incredible music and amazing vibes!
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 19th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Ignoring decades of warnings from geological experts about the earth-rending that would happen if cosmic doom titans Ufomammut and YOB were ever to share a bill, Belgium’s Obsidian Dust — which, I guess, is also a description that applies to said scenario — have confirmed YOB for their lineup for just one of the two Euro shows the Oregonian trio will play this year. The other is Desertfest Berlin, so I guess if you’re in Europe and you wanna see YOB, there you go.
YOB aren’t the only add here, though. There’s Piss (not to be confused with Mrs. Piss, mind you), countrymen instrumentalists Apex Ten, Swedish melodic psych rockers Gaupa, Lili Refrain, Earthbong, Meatdripper (who I don’t know but am ready to learn based on their name), the esteemed Fuzz Sagrado and Satanic Witch. It’s a diverse bunch, to say the least of it, and with King Buffalo, Acid King, Blackwater Holylight, Earthless, Hermano and Gnod elsewhere on the bill, there’s a lot a lot a lot to like.
The fest is a two-dayer set for May 16 and 17 in Brussels, and the info for the new adds came through social media, which is how these things happen nowadays. I believe them when they say it’s going to be awesome.
Dig it:
Yob will headline Saturday at Obsidian Dust 2026!
They’re flying in for an exclusive show, one of just two European dates in 2026.
And the dust keeps rising with a wild mix of sounds: from the hardcore punch of PISS, the psychedelic waves of GAUPA, and Lili Refrain’s hypnotic ritual, to the crushing riffs of Meatdripper and Earthbong, the stoner grooves of Fuzz Sagrado & Surya Kris Peters, Apex Ten heavy drive, and the black metal-laden mystique of Satanic Witch.
Posted in Reviews on October 8th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
If you’ve been keeping up, you already know this Quarterly Review goes through next Monday (because screw weekends anyhow) and will top out at 70 releases covered. Today, then, is when we hit the halfway mark en route to that number. Does it matter? Probably not unless you’re the guy on the other side of the laptop writing it, but maybe you just enjoy having the division done for you.
More of a range of styles today than yesterday, which I need to keep this going, so you’ll pardon me while I dig in in the hope that you do the same. Thanks for reading.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Mountain of Misery, Shades of the Ashes
Somewhat impressively, Mountain of Misery remains the solo-project of Kamil Ziółkowski, who perhaps if he wasn’t also the drummer/vocalist in Spaceslug might’ve put together a full band by now, but seems committed to keeping the band in-house. But it is a band, to be sure. Shades of the Ashes is Ziółkowski‘s third LP under the moniker, and it pushes deeper into a progression distinct from Spaceslug however familiar some of the vocals are, and offers depth of its own, whether that’s tonally in the thickened fuzz of “Follow the Sun” or the way he makes it boogie in “Speed King” (not a cover) while at the same time setting up the lush nod of “From Fall to Rise.” Between “Thornado” at the outset and the eight-minute finale “Blow,” Ziółkowski refines Mountain of Misery‘s sound with a freshness that is metal, grunge, heavy rock and psychedelic all at once, and stronger for that cohesion with his signature mellow vocals over top. It’s kind of surprising at this point he hasn’t been tempted to do it live, but clearly this is working, so I wouldn’t necessarily encourage messing with the process either.
A fresh take on the notion of Southern heavy from Asheville, North Carolina’s Dërro, who put a bit of twang into the post-Alice in Chains harmonies of “Brain Worm” (surely a song for our times) and a bit of emotive soar into “Echo Mountain” in complement to a guitar tone that feels kin to earlier Tool, all while retaining a ‘doing its own thing’ vibe. That is to say, the six-song Halcyon — which is the band’s first outing so far as I know — feels like the credited-as-composers duo of Neal Brewer and Corey Tossas, working with Pat Gerasia on drums, would seem to have come into this debut offering with a firm idea of what they wanted the band to be sound-wise, and unless they’ve secretly been working on it for a decade, the results of that shimmer with intention and feeling alike in the chuggy “Alone” and the drawl-into-power-nod opening title-track. One to watch? Maybe, but way more of a thing to hear now.
The guitar/drum duo of Marco Bianciardi (The Somnambulist, ex-Arte, etc.) and Sara Neidorf (Mellowdeath, Sarattma, ex-Aptera, etc.) apparently recorded their six-track/36-minutes self-titled debut in a day. That implies much of it was done live, though it doesn’t account for the keyboards that show up in “Spectral Swell” and “Countershading,” or the lead layering in “Talking Moonshine,” but it’s not unlikely that after showing up and banging it out they had a little time for overdubs. Fair enough. The pieces are varied and prone to getting weirder toward their respective ends, rooted in doomjazz but groove-conscious just the same, and the garage-y strum in “Gruttling From Outer Space” bends and twists as it goes in a way that surely defines what ‘gruttling’ might be, while “Edge of Forthcoming Rain” hints at more peaceful ideas without giving up its restlessness and “The Cosmonaut’s Secret” turns out to be the shove into its own finish. They close with a saunter in “Talking Moonshine” and that feels as right as anything for a collection that’s so casually eclectic while minimizing the actual elements involved in its making.
Melbourne three-piece VVarp — also stylized all-caps: VVARP — seem to imagine a universe wherein the thickened tones and keyboard flourish of Slomatics meets with more traditionalist doom riffing, but that’s still just half the story as bassist Claudia Sullivan and guitarist/keyboardist John Bollen share lead vocals in harmonized style over the voluminous roll of “Druid Warfare,” the cavernous and lumbering “A Path Through the Veil,” assuring there’s beauty to coincide with all the crush that surrounds. Running 34 minutes and five tracks, Power Held in Stone follows 2020’s First Levitations and is accordingly their second full-length, given ethereal, almost-chanting presence through the vocals on centerpiece “Equinox Portal” where “Iron Cloak” is more resolved to its own heads-down-all-go bombast fueled by drummer Scott McLatchie as the song shoves into the residual keys that carry to the rumble at the outset of 10-minute capper “Stone Silhouette,” likewise gorgeous, immersive and encompassing.
Easily among the best debut albums I’ve heard in 2025 comes this modernized-classic psychedelia outreach from Poland’s Atom Juice, who would seem to have some relation to meloproggers Weedpecker through guitarist/vocalist Bartek Dobry, but who take a different path to get to bright and melodic fruition. The five-piece outfit’s self-titled debut (on Heavy Psych Sounds) runs shortest to longest on each of its component sides, with copious Beatles influence in “Gooboo” (circa ’70) and delves elsewhere into modern space rock (“Dead Hookers”), the most engaging funk-psych I’ve heard since Wight on “Sexi Frogs,” and an identity in the doing conjured through a blend of influences older and new. As closer “Honey” gives a bit of push in its first half, there’s nowhere Atom Juice wind up on the record that they don’t make themselves welcome, and with rare warmth, they give hopeful hints at the shape of heavy psychedelia to come. I haven’t seen a lot of hype for this one. If you’re reading this, don’t skip it.
The 15 tracks of Hooveriii‘s Manhunter have a foundation in garage rock and an according off-the-cuff feel, but at the same time, interludes and exploratory instrumentals like “In the Rain,” “Night Walks in Montreaux,” the spacey title-track and the penultimate organ soundscaper “Awful Planet” assure that nothing actually comes across as haphazard in a way that undercuts the dynamic. “Melody” and “Tin Lips” open in rocking style, while the fuzz grows more fervent in “Westside Pavilion of Dreams” and “Heaven at the Gates” before “Cul-de-Sac” marks the transition to the next phase with the forceful shuffle of “The Fly,” answered a short while later by the heft of “Question.” It goes like this, flowing except where it doesn’t want to, and with the jazzy “Me King” and the aforementioned mellow-vocalized “Awful Planet” for setup, “Stage” reroutes into pastoralism and feels pointedly kind in so doing. Clearly a band for whom genre takes a secondary role to their own craft, and one whose appeal is broader for that.
Fluidity is part of the nature of what Sweden’s Gaupa do, as the Falun-based troupe have established over their two-to-date LPs and other sundry outings. The five-song/35-minute Fyr finds them working with producer Karl Daniel Lidén — which was a very good idea that somebody had — and is billed as a mini-album, which I think is to account for its being only one minute shorter than their most recent LP, 2022’s Myriad (review here). Vocalist Emma Näslund remains a focal point in the songs, but the balance of the mix is malleable as “Heavy Lord” demonstrates, and “Elastic Sheep” finds the entire band aligned around a fullness that one only hopes is emblematic of their third to come. Plus a big ol’ slowdown, and while we’re talking bonuses, the 11-minute live take on “Febersvan” from their first EP is a welcome glimpse at how far they’ve progressed to this point to complement the potential still so obvious in their sound. They’re the kind of band you hope never stop growing.
With multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Paul Holden still at the center of the project — Mathias Dowle is also credited with playing on and co-engineering the album with Holden and Ryan Fallis — Melbourne psych-grunge rockers Foot seem to pick up where they left off with 2022’s You Are Weightless, tapping into a style that’s grounded in terms of structure and committedly straightforward but that still lends a feeling of scope and space to the nine cuts on the 45-minute Copper Feast-issued LP. The fuzz is prevalent, perhaps nowhere more so than “Walking Into Walls All Week,” where “Intensify” is more of a vocal showcase until its later heavy sweep. Holden does a cover of Marcy Playground‘s “Sex and Candy”… for… some reason… and but for that, as one would both expect and hope for the band at this point, they remain a songwriting-based unit, able to present a diversity of ideas and moods without ever making it feel like a departure at all.
Enter Diagram with a ready definition for ‘dug in’ on their second album, Short Circuit Control. The Berlin duo of founder Hákon Aðalsteinsson and Fred Sunesen offer heady listeners a heady listen with nine inclusions that commune with the history of electronics in krautrock while still keeping both a modern and a psychedelic affect. Is that neo-kraut? I honestly don’t know, but cuts like “This is How We Lead Our Lives” transcend their outward poppiness through repetition and exploration, and the abiding lesson seems to be that just because something is dancey doesn’t also mean it can’t be purposefully building an atmosphere — “Close Your Eyes” walks by and waves (not that you can see it with your eyes closed). The single “Dub Boy” answers the New Wave aspects of opener “Breath in Your Fire,” and a ’90s electro finale awaits in “Through the Wall of Sound” for anybody adventurous enough to take it on.
Brookynite heavy progressive rockers The Phantom Eye offer blend across Cymatic Waves‘ four tracks that feels metallic at its root but has grown and redirected to more complex fare. Between the volume trades of “Circuit Rider,” the noise baked into the finish of “Palindrome,” the synth adding drama to “Black Hotel” and the intricate balancing of guitar layers in “Silent Symphony,” the focus is never purely on just being heavy, but ‘heavy,’ as a musical ideal, is a piece of the puzzle here, framing a broad melodic reach and giving shape to the structures underlying. I wouldn’t hazard a guess as to what they might sound like in five years, but as they’re following 2021’s Chromesthesia EP (review here) with this second short release, it’s even more difficult to pin them down as any one thing. This could hardly feel more intentional than it does in the songs. There’s a plan at work here. It’s just starting to pan out.
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 23rd, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Not that I would expect news about record labels collaborating to ‘break the internet,’ as they used to say in the 2010s, but I’m a little surprised not to have seen more hullabaloo about this one as Nuclear Blast and Magnetic Eye Records are partnering up to release a new ‘mini-album’ — I assume like an EP-plus? — from Swedish ethereal heavy psych rockers Gaupa.
Of course, it’s to the band’s credit that imprints are lining up to work with them, but the real kicker here is that Gaupa are already a Nuclear Blast band. So it’s not that the bigger metal label is reaching down to the smaller underground heavy label and plucking a band to add to its roster. That happens sometimes, but not here. The alignment with Nuclear Blast and Magnetic Eye puts the two entities on a similar level. I don’t know if Magnetic Eye (which is part of the Spkr Media family of labels) is handling US distribution while Nuclear Blast does Europe or what the details are, but if this is going to be a thing, it will be interesting to see how it plays out over the next few years.
Or it could be a one-off and that’s it. Hell if I know. In any case, new Gaupa is nothing to sneeze at even amid springtime pollen, so by whatever angle, the news is good. Here it is from socials, sans hashtags:
Tremendous news: MER will be collaborating with Nuclear Blast Records to release a new mini-album from the singular GAUPA this summer 😳🎸🧚
We’re massively stoked to be involved in bringing forth a new record from this heavy and ethereal Swedish band whose music has been described as “Björk meets Soundgarden,” and we’re confident that many of our longtime listeners and supporters are already huge fans of what they do 🤘💚
Feeling moderately asskicked when I woke up, I headed to the hotel breakfast quickly to grab coffee. They had scrambled eggs and I didn’t have any, which was the wrong choice. My stomach was a little iffy. So maybe pounding seven espressos out of the machine wasn’t a hot idea either. I’d call these rookie mistakes, but I’m no rookie. Just a dumbass who can’t handle basic nourishment when left to his own devices.
Some light nausea and a not-nap later, it was back to the festival grounds for me. Today is supposed to be hotter than yesterday, so I’ll keep to my routine of refilling the water bottle at least once per band. I am a firm believer in the power of hydration, which is good because I think that’s what’s going to get me through the day. You can’t always count on stumbling into a yoga class at just the right time, sadly.
Before I go up to take pics of the start of the 10-act final day here, I would like to reiterate my thanks to Freak Valley for having me back. The vibe here is intimate and friendly and there are still however many thousand people, so that’s saying something. I am honored to be here, to have been here, to have met people and made friends here and seen and heard things I never knew I would. If you told me 15 years ago that I’d be living this life, even on intermittent weekends spread throughout the year, I’d probably have been like, “Wow that sounds exhausting, sure hope I don’t blow out a knee or some shit,” but underneath I’d be flabbergasted. I remain so, loving it.
My phone autocorrected “living” at the end of that last sentence. I’m leaving it as is. Some mistakes are on purpose.
Thank you again. Here we go. Day three of three:
Reverend Beat-Man
Before the show actually started, the good Reverend was to be found one-man parading around the merch/food area with a mini amp and bullhorn, hand-delivering scummer blues as he went. I didn’t even have the battery in my camera yet, so the above pic is from my phone. I don’t know what car battery he was huffing before going onstage, but I’d gladly take a hit off it. Dude was full-on, exclusively, there on his own doing weirdo blower blues, put his clergy collar on during his purposefully laughably long intro. Distorted vocals, some looped cello for good measure, a real performance piece, complete with sleaze, “Jesus Christ Twist,” boogie like he was born to do it, merch sold on the honor system, and a fest-day’s worth of shenanigans packed into a set that had the early crowd shouting for one more song when it was over. A hoot in the grand tradition of hoots.
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Ritual King
Proper English heavy rock. You can hear aspects of original-era desert riffing, some Truckfighters as well in that rolling bass, but Ritual King’s 2020 self-titled debut (review here), issued through Ripple, had more progressive stretches too and that came through a bit in the shuffle jam amidst all the roll and richness of fuzz, the bass holding down the groove while the guitar trips out ever so slightly. It was almost like you could hear them growing as they played, and their first record was already a call to the converted. I’ll not go around making predictions, but they were tight, seemed to be just the right amount of not-sober to represent the UK ahead of Orange Goblin later, and made it clear that the next generation of heavy knows from whence it comes and is ready to make its own statement in the genre. That’s the hope, anyhow. They could break up tomorrow, you never know. If that happened, I’d be glad to have seen them today. Second record later this year. Don’t tell anybody. It’s a secret.
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Food: With about 10 minutes before Gaupa went on, I very quickly inhaled the meat out of a sans-rice goulash, leaving most of the sauce, veggies, etc. Burned tongue for the effort. My self-imposed dietary restrictions at this point are laughable — I brought three (small, plastic) jars of almond butter with me, left the one I wanted to bring at the hotel, hence the improv. What my feelings on this matter tell me is I’m channeling other shit into disordered eating because it’s a way to exert control over some aspect of my life. Take care of your brain, kids.
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Gaupa
Burner. If I hadn’t seen them in December in their native Sweden, I’d likely be blown away both by the band’s performance and the response from the crowd, but while I knew what to expect, Gaupa still set a high standard on the stage. Hair flying all over the place, and vocalist Emma Näslund’s sort of hard-hippie dance moves putting emphasis on the band’s psychedelic side even as the actual tones are doomly thick and their riffs are high-class Euro stoner. They’re on their way, and the only question is how far they’ll push it. And they’re young, which is crucial. Last year’s Myriad (review here) featured heavily and it was immediately apparent that those assembled were familiar. They were an early pull for the crowd — all of a sudden, the grass was packed — and their delivery more than justified that.
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Tabernacle
All the way over from San Francisco, Tabernacle are a conceptual four-piece who make a point of only playing original arrangements of traditional English folk songs. And I guess on paper that kind of says covers, but that’s not quite the end of it. Technically, they’re songs that have been around and performed by many people — it’s fucking folk music; it’s for and of the folk — but the way they interpret the root material is their own, pairing ancient melodies with heavy warmth, languid, fluid nod. I guess the difference between Tabernacle and what I would generally think of as covers is the possibility of progressing in terms of sound. Their approach is open to growing, and between lead vocalist/synthesist Caira Paravel, bechapeaued guitarist/vocalist Walker Phillips, who are solo filk players as well, bassist Camilla Saufley (ex-Golden Void, The Assemble Head in Sunburst Sound, and a Freak Valley veteran) and drummer Adam Weaver (The Asteroid No. 4), they clearly have the range and reach to make that happen if they choose. They don’t have much out, just a few songs streaming, and so I think people didn’t know them that well — writing the announcement that they were playing here was how I learned about them too — but for a band writing around established foundations, they wanted nothing for originality. I’d listen to a record of this, happily.
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Hypnos 69
Hard for me to say enough how much I was looking forward to Hypnos 69. Not something I ever dreamed could happen, even before the band broke up like a decade ago. They’re a band whose music I’ve listened to for 20 years — and that by no means makes me groundfloor, so please don’t think I’m saying it does — and when I was first learning about underground rock, my initial immersion in different styles and bands from all over, they taught me so much about what heavy music could do, about what ‘progressive’ meant in terms of influence and presence, about atmosphere and about how music can seem to chase itself in circles forever and have fun doing it. I was nervous before they went on. What if they didn’t live up to the expectation in my head? What if they were jerks on stage? What if what if what if a piano fell out of the sky on my head two minutes before they went on? They were better than I could have hoped. I guess the phrase “bucket list band” applies, but really it was just something I’d reconciled myself to missing and never being able to see. I’ve lived with those records for so long, to hear and at them brought to life in front of me — along with new material, no less — felt like a landmark. I am so grateful. Thank you Hypnos 69, thank you Freak Valley. And please, if you’re seeing these words and you’ve never heard this band, I implore you to listen. Start with 2010’s Legacy (review here), and work back through 2006’s The Eclectic Measure (discussed here), 2004’s The Intrigue of Perception (discussed here) and 2002’s Timeline Traveller (rules but hasn’t closed a week yet; keeping it in my back pocket; it’s on their Bandcamp with all the rest). At least check it out if you haven’t. Please.
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The Obsessed
Dudes sounded great. More than 40 years on, The Obsessed came across with new life and brought the doom of the Chesapeake to this little alcove in Netphen with fervency and groove alike. Founding guitarist/vocalist Scott “Wino” Weinrich and drummer Brian Costantino have been playing together for about a decade straight at this point, and with Chris Angleberger on bass and Jason Taylor on guitar/backing vocals — last I saw them was 2019 in Boston with Reid Raley still on bass and just Wino on guitar; the more standard configuration as a trio through their history — they sounded more than ready to follow-up 2017’s Sacred (review here) and were locked in all the way with a trademark groove that has helped forge trad doom. There was a short rant between songs about biometric scans and money on bracelets and freedoms being taken away, but that’s who Wino is and is nothing new, even if the discourse around and promulgation of conspiracy theories has changed in the last 10 years. In any case, the songs sounded like I can only imagine riding a motorcycle feels, and that’s the idea when it comes to The Obsessed, so I’m calling it a win outright. New record later this year on Ripple, from which they aired “It’s Not Okay,” which was shouted out to “all these fucking keyboard warriors” typing all their words and something about showing up at their house with a baseball bat on a Sunday and having them run away. Fair enough.
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The Great Machine
Somehow they played fast even when they were playing slow, but either way, Israeli trio The Great Machine ran circles around the stage, and out in front for a bit too, and were a sight to behold as they made sure to get their cardio in while playing. Good fun, great energy, and their new album, Funrider (review here), while aptly named, is just a whiff of what they do live in terms of forward charge. But in addition to running around stage, the sound was also right on, roll and shove and even the odd quiet moment playing off each other with killer stoner roll and density that they made move almost as much as they did while playing. And even more, their set happened to coincide with the first break in the heat of this very, very sunny day, so all the conditions seemed to apply for them to kick ass, which they did with marked thoroughness. They’ve been here before, in 2017 (I looked it up; I know a good place for that kind of thing), and I have a hard time imagining they wouldn’t be invited back again. Rarely in my experience is heavy rock so much fun and still has so much to offer musically. They brought out a guest screamer toward the end of the set and continued to lap the vast majority of everything as they pummeled riff after riff. Hypnos 69 were the band I knew I was waiting for. The Great Machine were the band I didn’t know I was waiting for.
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Hällas
This wasn’t my first time encountering Swedish cosmic strutters Hällas — who rock proto-metallic ’70s space riffs and their capes with equal aplomb; not being sarcastic — but it was the melodies that got me this time. Such a smooth, classy style, between the up-to-three vocalists and the organ and guitars, giving them a sense of out-thereness in alignment with their stage presence. I don’t mind telling you I am beat. Truly. But the sun is on its way down as we head toward 21:30, and I’m happy to let “Star Rider” take me into the home stretch of Freak Valley 2023. Much like hope The Great Machine were more than just somebody’s ecercise video, so too were Hällas more than the sum of their stage costumes. I guess in terms of sound they’re vintage, but it’s retrofuturism if anything, and they’re masters of it at this point and reliable in that regard. And even if I was dragging ass — no yoga today, sadly, though I’ve done some stretching throughout and basic sustenance helped — they most certainly were not and they had people singing along, dancing, spontaneous clapping along, the whole thing. I found a not-quiet but also not-crowded spot to sit and watch, trying to soak in as much as I can of this festival because I know it’s going to be over soon. What a party it’s been. No wonder tickets sell out in like a day every year.
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Orange Goblin
On a planet marked by its paucity of guarantees, you can know in your heart that when Orange Goblin show up, it’s to destroy. Their second album, Time Travelling Blues (discussed here), was released in 1998 on Rise Above Records, which makes its 25th anniversary the occasion for playing it in full for the first time ever here, at Freak Valley, but I ask you in a spirit of friendship, would they really need an excuse? From fucking “Blue Snow” through the fucking title-track — god damn, that groove, and that ending — and fucking “Nuclear Guru,” that’s one of the best fucking sabbath rock records ever made to not actually be by Black Sabbath. The set was a celebration that felt like it applied to the whole weekend, and Orange Goblin absolutely hit that mark. Chris Turner on drums propulsive or swinging or both, Joe Hoare on guitar with blues shred, Harry Armstrong — the only member of the band now who wasn’t in it a quarter-century ago — with a stark reminder that ‘heavy’ lives in the bottom end, and Ben Ward jumping up and down and running point like the frontman he is, like a walking advertisement for his own sobriety and healthy living. Full of life. The night isn’t over yet, but this was a special set in more than just the songs being played. A highlight? Shit. These guys — and in no small part, this record — have inspired a generation and counting of English heavy. It is, and they are, a classic. And being here, with the trees lit up in back and the hey-hey-heys from the crowd almost as loud as the band itself, the band throwing in “Red Tide Rising” as a bonus track at the end. I hope I never forget it. Thank you.
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Slift
Do we need to talk about Ummon? That record (review here) carried entire legions of weirdos through the pandemic, and I felt like I was overdue for seeing Slift live. Not in a the-moment-has-passed way, because it hasn’t, but just in that way I’m perpetually late to any and all parties. They brought the drums down front and set up in a line, had a video protection behind, and you could feel the bass in your chest on that side of the stage even when they were warming up, speaking from personal experience. They lit the galaxy on fire. They blew up the fucking Death Star. Slayer meet Hawkwind. Didn’t know space thrash was a thing? It was tonight for sure, but that’s really just the launch point for the Andromeda-bound FTL groove that Slift emit. People were saying their goodnights, me too, but after a long and busy few days since I took off from Newark an entire dimension ago, I was only too happy to be disintegrated by the pulsations of their cosmic noise. I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe it’s ending. I can’t believe how ineffective my earplugs were in the face of their dizzying assault. I could go on, easily, about them ripping holes in space-time, or I could start using treknobabble, which might be fun, but I’m not sure that would capture the overwhelming physical presence of Slift at Freak Valley. I can’t remember the last time I so badly wanted a band to not be a fluke. They’ve got nearly impossible expectations to meet. But, that tension, you can feel in your blood. This band might be the real deal, and I know I’m not the first to say so. At least some of what they played was new, so that bodes well. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. I’m hopeful. Do you know how good that feels?
—
Thank you again for reading. Thank you Freak Valley. Thank you Jens, Alex, Marcus, Felli, Roman, Juan, Pete Holland. I met friggin’ Komet Lulu! I was so nervous and awkward; totally embarrassed myself. Everybody who approached me to introduce themselves and say some words about this site or what I do. People are so impossibly kind. Friends I met last year and saw again. Sister Rainbow! I don’t think I knew how badly I needed this, but I bet The Patient Mrs. knew, and thanks to her most of all. Thank you, Wendy. I love you.
I wrote too much today. I took too many pictures. I guess some part of me was trying to cram in as much as I could while I could. No regrets. For mostly my own future reference, here’s the running order of the entire festival. I saw all of it.
More pics after the jump. You know the deal. Cheers from Freak Valley 2023, and all the love in the universe. I fly home tomorrow.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 15th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Not much you can really debate about Freak Valley Festival 2023 in either concept or execution. The headliners — Clutch, the Melvins and Orange Goblin playing Time Travelling Blues in its entirety — are long-established bill-toppers, and backed by the likes of Earthless, King Buffalo and Stoned Jesus even before you get to Slift and The Obsessed and Astroqueen and Hypnos69 and Gaupa and on and on and on and fucking Seedy Jeezus is gonna be there — you’ve got Seedy Jeezus and Stoned Jesus in the same place on the same weekend! — it’s all the more apparent just how called-for making this trip actually is. So I’m going.
As with last year, I’ll be doing my best to cover as much of Freak Valley 2023 as possible with photos and writeups, and whether it’s bands I’ve seen or bands I’ve never seen, I know enough now to know that it’s not just about watching bands, but about watching them there, in that place between those hills, the joy that radiates through the hopefully cooperative weather and everybody in attendance. It’s gonna be a blast, and I’ll at last get to see Slift in a setting that I feel like is worthy of the occasion. Mark it a win even before I get on the plane. Speaking of, better book that flight.
Here’s the final lineup, newly announced:
Hails Freaks!
Time for the final lineup announcement. We hope your 2023 is off to a great start. Either way, it’s about to get better.
Please welcome:
EARTHLESS – SLIFT – HÄLLAS – ALEX HENRY FOSTER – STONED JESUS – TABERNACLE – EL PERRO – STEAK – GAUPA – REVEREND BEAT-MAN – THE MAD HATTER
Full Line-up:
CLUTCH MELVINS ORANGE GOBLIN “Time Travelling Freak Valley Blues Show” EARTHLESS “Night Parade of 1000 Demons” in full! KING BUFFALO STONED JESUS SLIFT HÄLLAS THE OBSESSED PONTIAK ALEX HENRY FOSTER SEEDY JEEZUS HYPNOS69 EL PERRO STEAK KAMCHATKA EARTH SHIP ASTROQUEEN TUSKAR TABERNACLE KOMODOR BESVÄRJELSEN GAUPA RITUAL KING PSYENCE REVEREND BEAT-MAN THE MAD HATTER
We’re done – hope you love the lineup as much as we do!
FREAK VALLEY FESTIVAL 2023 IS SOLD OUT.
Thank all of you so much for your support, this year and every year.
Freak Valley Festival // No Fillers – Just Killers June 8-10, 2023
Posted in Radio on January 20th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
If you missed the entire Quarterly Review, first of all, that’s okay. You’re not obligated. I only bring it up because it’s from that glut of 100 records that this playlist (and part of the last one) derives. It’s a good show, with a couple decent twists. I almost played the 18-minute Smoke song. Thought about it, but it gets a little droney and I worry about stuff like that getting lost in people’s audio feeds. You know, if they’ve got the thing streaming in the background or some such. I’m not fooling myself into thinking that, however many people are listening, they’re all paying the strictest attention to every minute of every song.
So it’s the seven-minute Smoke song, and the 14-minute Carrier Wave one. It was pretty easy to go and pick through the QR for stuff, to be honest. And there was enough that, even having done some last time, I might still be able to get more from it that would work for the show. That’s pretty killer, because unless I’m giving myself an excuse to get to know it, I don’t play stuff on here if I don’t think it’s at least worth hearing. In the meantime, this playlist rules. I can’t wait to hear what engineer Dean Rispler (he’s also in Mighty High and 70 or 80 other bands) does with the transition from Gaupa to Onségen Ensemble.
Thanks for listening if you listen. Thanks for reading either way.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 01.20.23 (VT = voice track)
Oktas
Collateral Damage
The Finite and the Infinite
Gaupa
RA
Myriad
Onségen Ensemble
Naked Sky
Realms
VT
Simple Forms
Reaching for the Shadow
Simple Forms
Farflung
Dludgemasterpoede
Like Drones in Honey
Smoke
The Son of Man
Groupthink
Chrome Ghost
Where Black Dogs Dream
House of Falling Ash
Onhou
Null
Monument
Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol
Jesus Was an Alien
Doom Wop
Alconaut
Slugs
Slugs
Daevar
Leila
Delirious Rites
Astrosaur
The Deluge
Portals
Grin
Aporia
Phantom Knocks
Mister Earthbound
Not to Know
Shadow Work
VT
Carrier Wave
Cosmic Man
Carrier Wave
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Feb. 3 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
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.
