Posted in Whathaveyou on June 12th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
“Tethers” will be the first single from Terra Black since the Gothenburg semi-gazing doom nodders made their full-length debut with 2023’s All Descend (review here), and as that record cast an immediate sense of identity, finding a niche in heavy spacious and grand in its unfolding without being overly derivative in going about it, the song is one to look forward to. I don’t know whether it’s a holdover from the album sessions or a foreshadow of things to come — i.e., a precursor to an album — but it’s their first offering through Bonebag Records, the label headed by members of Cavern Deep, to which the band signed back in March.
Concurrent to the new track is a physical reissue for All Descend — CD and tape, which I love in a kind of contrarian way to the ridiculous production involved in pressing vinyl as I understand it — and if you didn’t hear the record, please accept this gentle encouragement to explore its spaces for at least a while on the player below. I know nobody actually needs something else to spend money on, but, well, maybe you do and you just don’t know it yet. In any case, I wanted to note for myself the new song coming down the line and I sure don’t mind having put All Descend on while writing here. I guess in the end it’s an act of self-interest.
From Bonebag via social media:
Terra Black will release their new one-off single “Tethers” on the 28th of June through Bonebag Records. It will also coincide with the physical re-release of their latest album, “All Descend,” on CD and cassette. More on this later…
Details about the physical release of Terra Black’s All Descend (including pre-order) will be confirmed in due course by Bonebag Records but in the meantime, you can stream the album in full now atterrablackband.bandcamp.com.
Swedish heavy rockers Långfinger have a history of good-times-had-by-all videos, whether that’s “Say Jupiter” (posted here) from their 2016 LP, Crossyears (review here), or the prior “Fox Confessor” (posted here), or the clip for “Herbs in My Garden” from 2010. “Arctic,” premiering below, is the latest in the series of their narrative clips. The song comes from their fourth album, Pendulum(review here), which was released earlier in 2024, and pokes fun at the fact that eight years passed in between Långfinger records while the band were ostensibly still active. A kind of answer to the question one might’ve asked circa 2022: “whatever happened to Långfinger?”
But of course the truth of what happened to them is a little less Blair Witch and a little more band-doing-other-stuff. In 2019, they released Live (review here) and a split with JIRM, and guitarist/backing vocalist Kalle Lilja’s work at Welfare Sounds Studioand participation in outfits like Toad Venom and Wolves in Haze has been discussed here before, so I’ll spare you running through the full timeline, but the fact is Långfinger still existed, even if they weren’t doing the self-imposed album-cycle thing of writing, recording, touring, and so on, or constantly feeding the social-media algorithmic monkey on a daily basis to capture some imaginary quantification of an audience share. Would it have been nice to have another LP in the interim? Sure. Would’ve also been nice if we hadn’t all lost two years to a fucking plague. Can’t have everything, kids.
In light of that stark reality, I’ll just note that it’s worth appreciating the things one has, and in this particular context, Pendulum is all the more a thing to celebrate. Not only did it bring Långfinger back around to those ears waiting for them in the heavy underground and perhaps introduce them to a slew of those who’d come aboard in the intervening time, but it expanded the band’s stylistic palette and found them working in new ideas from a more mature point of view. Not quite “grownup” in the sense of being either boring or lacking energy in their delivery — “Arctic” testifies in contrast — but aware of who they are as players in a way that when they did Skygrounds 14 years ago they couldn’t possibly have been. That it’s still fun is a boon, of course.
If you haven’t heard Pendulum, or if you watch “Arctic” and dig both the tune and the shenanigans, the full LP stream is waiting for you at the bottom of the post. However you go, I hope you enjoy, because there’s really no point to any of this otherwise.
Dig:
Långfinger, “Arctic” video premiere
Långfinger and Aurora Alänge (director) set out to make a video based off of three very distinct things that have been notable in our latest active era.
We’re huge fans of certain 00’s horror movies (who isn’t), we love riff driven ominous rock music and we wanted to give an explanation to – with a tongue in cheek approach – our absence these past 6-7 years from the observable universe.
The idea worked really well with Arctic, which is a song that as much as it pays homage to classic 70’s and 80’s metal tracks it shows us as a band as we venture towards a sound that’s heavier than anything we’ve ever done in the past.
Taken from the album ‘Pendulum’ out now through Welfare Sounds & Records.
Directed, produced, edited and filmed by Aurora Alänge. Band photo by Aurora Alänge. Additional band footage filmed by Carl Thorén.
Långfinger are: Kalle Lilja – guitar/backing vocals Victor Crusner – vocals/bass/keys Jesper Pihl – drums
This Friday, Esben Willems will make his solo debut with the full-length Glowing Darkness on Majestic Mountain Records, and I won’t mince words in telling you that for some of the built-in audience who know him only from his output as the drummer of Swedish riff magnates Monolord, it’s going to seem like a pretty stark departure. The path of influence that’s brought Willems to this nine-song, 33-minute long-player is more complex than a simple ‘band wasn’t on tour so I made a record by myself’ narrative one might try to impose on it, and from the insistent weirdo-pop urgency of “Cabaret Street” — as if to jolt one awake at the outset — through the guitar-led bounce of the title-track and the finale “Across the Everything,” which presents a sound that is full and atmospheric while still not tying itself to this or that microgenre, the personality of the procession becomes like a series of experiments brought to fruition in order to actively work against the generic in and around heavy music.
Recording himself on all instruments at Studio Berserk in Gothenburg, where there’s at least a 30 percent chance he also mastered your album, Willems runs through a succession of cuts that seems to owe its core ethic of creative freedom to Talking Heads no less than Masters of Reality, with “Dear Demon” and “Carte Blanche” building on the catchy structure of “Cabaret Street” in a way that allows Glowing Darkness to remain cohesive as it chasing down different ideas. Would it be a shock if I told you it’s well produced?
Those who’ve perhaps followed Willems through his various collaborations in recent years — lest we forget the “here’s some beats have fun” drum patterns he posted during the covid pandemic that led to his ‘guesting’ on releases from all over the world — or who even took on the earlier-this-year self-titled debut from doom-does-Slayer covers project Slower (review here), might be better set up to follow where Glowing Darkness is headed, but one way or the other, the reward is there for the open-minded, and the palpable defiance of expectation brims with purpose. As the standalone layered vocals and last guitar noodle of “Carte Blanche” give over to the more sauntering groove of “Embrace the Fall,” daring a bit of funk in the nuanced pattern of the verse before opening to the rolling chorus, Willems feels strikingly clearheaded in his arrangements and the balance of the mix.
And while mostly traditionalist in verse/chorus structures, the material is all the more able to explore and expand stylistically for that sure footing, but it’s also concise enough that only “Cabaret Street” and “Across the Everything” push beyond a four-minute runtime, the latter serving as the longest inclusion at 5:01. It may be that Willems sat down and plotted out measure by measure, layer by layer, waveform by waveform, the various reaches into which Glowing Darkness delves — I honestly don’t know and I don’t have the track-by-track yet, so maybe we’ll find out together — but whatever the initial spark might have been for the minimalist-Nirvana-meets-cavernous-nod centerpiece “Slow Rain,” the feeling of spontaneity, and of a creative chase, of an artist figuring out in real-time who they are and how they want to bring the songs in their head to life, remains amid the tight and hammered-out spirit of the finished LP.
Tucked away cozily in the procession of side B, “Space Bob” leans percussive intricacy on a fuzzy riff that’s simpler but sturdy enough to support all the activity and finds Willems repeating the lines, “I had to save myself/This head/Caught fire,” as the guitar grows more fervent before receding. It’s three minutes long and doesn’t come anywhere near summarizing Glowing Darkness as a whole — it’s not trying to — but it does capture a specific portrait of creative urgency. Have you ever felt like your head’s on fire? Like there’s something you need to get out, to express, to say or do or share and you’re consumed by that thing until you actually make it happen? I do, often. In that way, “Space Bob” feels like it’s about its own making, the way it’s built up to what Willems wanted it to be or until he was satisfied enough with what it became to say it’s done. Isn’t that what being an artist is like? Your head’s just on fire all the time? Maybe Willems intended the metaphor and maybe not, but the notion of artistic expression being what ‘saves’ you from the fire resonates. Sometimes it’s like that.
What Willems in the track-by-track/interview that follows refers to as “limitations” become quirks in craft and style. The way the vocals are layered and patterned. The stops in the guitar of “Fortune Teller” that bounce while feeling intimate and personal like some lost McCartney-era experiment, or the way “Across the Everything” lets itself submerge in the wash of tone and space before Glowing Darkness ends with drums and voice alone, heavy in tone and presence but still very much its own take. One could hardly ask a more fitting resolution, not the least because it also doesn’t attempt to summarize so much as to keep adding to the breadth of the whole album while staying grounded in structure. That duality becomes crucial throughout.
I’ve been fortunate enough to interview Willems a few times over the last several years, and probably could’ve fired up Zoom to make an ass out of myself for a video chat. But since the album’s streaming in full, you’re not likely to watch a video at the same time you’re listening to the record, and I think there’s something appealing about reading an artist’s view of their work while you listen to the work itself; a multi-sensory immersion. One way or the other, I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading.
Glowing Darkness can be heard in its entirety on the player below, followed by the track-by-track:
Glowing Darkness track-by-track with Esben Willems
When did Glowing Darkness start to come together? How far back do these songs go, and at what point did you know you wanted to make an album under your own name as opposed to starting another band?
It’s been lingering for a long time, I wanted to get back to writing and recording music on the side again. I love side-projects and how they fuel the creativity in unexpected ways, I’ve always had the need to create in multiple different directions. The journey we’ve made with Monolord the past decade has been overwhelmingly amazing; the effect of that has also been that between tours, behind the scenes admin work and most important of all family, I haven’t had the time to explore much else. In 2019, we decided to take one season off from touring with the band – simply to recharge – and shortly after that the pandemic hit, so all that combined was the perfect opportunity to play around with these song ideas, some of them probably about 15 years old, I don’t really remember. Misfit, maladjusted little nuggets that didn’t really fit in any other project along the way, but all of them ideas I returned to when rummaging through the digital archives, as one does every now and then.
I figured that if these songs made me smile, there should be at least a handful of people on this planet that are wired the same way I am and would feel the same, so I started reworking them and rewriting most of the lyrics to what felt relevant in my life now. Also, I’ve often preached to people around me that they should embrace their limitations and create regardless of them, instead turning those limitations into creative tools, but I have been really bad at adapting that mindset myself, so I felt that this would be a great way to give myself a Henry Rollins asskicking to get going. So, that’s the reason this is not a new band and it’s also the reason that I’m playing all the instruments and singing all the vocals, warts and all, just to see what I could accomplish with the quite substantial limitations I have outside of the drumkit. And inside of it, for that matter. Incredibly scary, which also fueled the inspiration even further.
What do you most want people who only know you from Monolord to know about these songs? Imagine someone is about to put it on for the first time. What should their mindset be?
That it’s not Monolord, at all. I don’t want to deceive anyone into expecting that this will be a rumble fest in a slightly different direction. I love that and those projects of mine will also be recorded and released, but this one is a ticket to somewhere else. Speaking of describing music, I love how we all perceive music so differently. We can love the same thing, but most likely from entirely different perspectives and we can hate something the same way. I’ve seen this described as some sort of post-punk several times now and that is not even remotely close to what I hear myself. Which is really cool, it’s all been mentioned as a compliment and I’ll take it, regardless of whatever genre this might be considered as.
Let’s go through the tracks. “Cabaret Street”:
I was frustrated about how so much of my surroundings and even my own behaviour revolved around the insatiable search for validation. It might sound like a “social media is bad and I’m afraid of wifi” statement, but I feel that blaming social media only is a bit one-dimensional and lazy, to me this virus culture is equally fueled by how our society is constructed. Social media is just a tumorous result of that, I think. Social media is also an amazing tool, if used right.
If this song is anti- anything, it would be anti-capitalism.
“Dear Demon”
I guess many of us have that head demon that never sleeps, that beast who’s never out of energy to remind you that you’re not good enough, that your desperate attempts to matter are nothing more than embarrassingly transparent and laughable theatrics. This is my love letter to my own demon, just to confuse it. I know it won’t confuse it for long, it will be back with full force tomorrow. But so will I and my coffee is both stronger and real.
“Carte Blanche”
It seems to be a permanent human flaw that we in the bigger picture never – or very rarely – really learn from our mistakes. When a relationship, a job, any human interaction goes wrong we tend to just end it without reflection, replace it with something similar and repeat the process elsewhere with someone else, naively hoping that this utopia will be different. We start things the same way and we end things the same way, rinse and repeat. Denial is an addictive spice.
“Embrace the Fall”
Speaking of denial, the collective version of that in the shape of the silently socially accepted self medication is peak tragicomedy to me. Or rather, the tragicomedy lies in it’s collective denial, not the actual numbing by beers, by I’m-not-addicted-I-can-quit-anytime-there-are-no-side-effects-420brah weed or whatever your preferred sedative might be. Not saying that I don’t embrace the buzz of my gentrified hazy IPA – I really do – I just find some kind of dark humor in that I also participate in that game of pretending.
“Slow Rain”
A deliberately slow one about the process of breaking on the inside, over and over, but still keep functioning on the outside, no matter what. The constant battle between strength and fragility.
“Glowing Darkness”
Even though life can feel bleak and uphill, there are always bright spots in the darkness. They might be small and seemingly insignificant, but they sometimes shines a brighter light than you’d maybe expect.
“Space Bob”
I think and hope this one is self-explanatory. If not, it might be because you didn’t save yourself when your head caught fire. You have to.
“Fortune Teller”
This is to my life companion, what we have is incredible to me. Through all the bumps and twists and turns, we have the best of rides. I love her.
“Across the Everything”
I love playing live and being able to travel the world to do so. But it comes at the expense of deeply missing my loved ones, especially my kid as a parent. Not being there in the flesh is heartbreaking and something I always struggle with when I tour. This is to my son, my promise that I will always come home.
Now that Glowing Darkness is coming out – and releasing it has been in the works for a while, right? – how are you feeling about the release? Are you relieved to have it out in the world (almost), inspired to move forward as a songwriter, tired of the whole idea? What comes next?
It’s indeed been in the works for quite a while, yes, so it feels really good to finally have it out. Also, as with every new release, nervous. I hope that people that are into this kind of music will enjoy it.
I’m always inspired to move forward, to make new music. More projects are already in the works, both solo type stuff and projects with others. Regarding writing music, I’m finally getting back to it, having been away from it for almost a decade. I’m rusty, but I’m having tons of fun in the process.
Anything else you want to say about the record, or anything else generally?
Listen to music, a lot of music, as far and wide in genres and cultures as you can. Don’t limit yourself with predefined taste. Puritanism is boring. Curiosity is not.
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 15th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
With an atmospheric immersion bolstered through its structural movement and heft of tone, with groove enough to stand up to its melodic reach, Terra Black‘s June 2023 debut, All Descend (review here), will see physical release this year on Bonebag Records. The Swedish imprint founded by Max Malmer, also of deep-cavern doomers Cavern Deep (see what I did there?), offered its first not-by-that-band release in early February’s Cataclysm by Troy the Band, and seems to be building gradually around projects it’s passionate about, which is the ideal. If you want to take a listen to All Descend on the player below — shades of Brume in “Ashes and Dust” and the nodding-huge “Spawn of Lyssa,” and so on — I wouldn’t hesitate unless you’re trying to save money by not ordering the LP. Which you can’t do yet anyway, so you’re safe.
No reason not to dive in, then. No word yet on a release date or preorders or all that stuff, but it’ll come. The PR wire brought the signing announcement to start the process:
Gothenburg Occult Rockers Terra Black Sign with Bonebag Records for Physical Release of Debut Album
Swedish label Bonebag Records is thrilled to announce the signing of rising Gothenburg rockers Terra Black for the official release of their 2023 debut, All Descend.
Invoking dark atmospheres and Dante-esque soundscapes upon its digital release last year, All Descend roused many a sleeping stoner from their slumber with lyrics and themes focused on the Devil, demons, Wicca lore, and celestial destiny. Coupled with cosmic vocals, sullen yet melodious choruses and heavy doom drenched passages, the band’s sound and self-confidence has grown immeasurably since their formation in 2020.
Featuring singer/guitarist Ezgi, drummer Sophie, bassist Denice and guitarist Isak, Terra Black are also something of a coup for the self-proclaimed “murky label from Northern Sweden”, having been huge followers of the band since the release of their early singles ‘Triple Goddess’ (2021) and ‘Capra’ (2022).
“We finally got to see them live at House of Metal in Umeå and were immensely impressed by their sound and stage presence,” explains Bonebag Records owner, Max Malmer. “We’re excited to be able to give their debut album an official physical release and can’t wait to work closely with them on their follow-up, which they’re recording later this year.”
Details about the physical release of Terra Black’s All Descend (including pre-order) will be confirmed in due course by Bonebag Records but in the meantime, you can stream the album in full now atterrablackband.bandcamp.com.
Tomorrow, March 15, is the release date of the fourth Långfinger full-length, Pendulum. It’s the Gothenburg, Sweden, classic heavy rock trio’s first long-player since 2016’s Crossyears (review here), which, if you live in an anachronistic time bubble as I do, I’ll remind you was eight years ago. Even with their 2019 live album, aptly-titled Live (review here), and a concurrent split shared with countrymen JIRM, plenty of live work in the intervening time and guitarist Kalle Lilja‘s involvement with Wolves in Haze, Toad Venom and Welfare Sounds Studio, the latter being where Pendulum and Crossyears and a whole bunch of stuff for other bands have been recorded over that span of time, it’s probably been long enough. Comprised of 10 tracks — the player on their Bandcamp lists “Towering” twice, so shows 11 — the well-appreciated check-in from Lilja, vocalist/bassist Victor Crusner, who caps the aforementioned track with Mellotron as well, and drummer Jesper Pihl reminds of their foundation vintage-style heavy songcraft while expanding on the modern sound with which the album prior presented it.
Offered with a clarity of vision and sharp, clever twists of craft across its 36 minutes, Pendulum has no time to waste at its outset as “A Day at the Races” all but dispenses with intro formalities to start with its verse. That makes the trip to the chorus that much more efficient, and with a Spidergawdian electric surge in its hook and a quick glimpse in the bridge at some of the bluesy Greenleafery to come as “Dead Cult” caps side A and answers back to the strut and clearly purposeful kick-in-the-pants momentum-gathering of “A Day at the Races” and the subsequent “Cycles,” which is more brash as it proceeds through a still-efficient three-plus minutes, as well as some of the moodier Graveyard-style groove of “Arctic” before that song’s especially fervent payoff, with a full tonal push, lead notes in the chorus, and an adrenaline-bent last course of riffing. “Arctic” makes it clear that Långfinger are doing more on Pendulum than straight-ahead rocking, but in both that and “Towering,” which starts out mellower and lets its chorus largesse rear up from the verse with unhurried-but-not-lifeless guidance — also a ripping solo just past the middle before Lilja breaks out the Mellotron near the end; a stark change but well in line with both the traditions Långfinger are playing toward and the flow of the track itself — Pihl, Crusner and Lilja resonate with a command over their twisting grooves, melodies and structures that they’re not the same kids who put out Skygrounds in 2010, though even that debut knew where it wanted to be sound-wise.
And to that, weren’t Långfinger a boogie band? Retro ’70s vintage heavy? Wasn’t that the thing? Yeah, that’s part of it, but it’s hard to ignore Pendulum swinging like some kind of summary of the last two decades of pan-Scandinavian heavy highlights or the manner in which the three-piece place themselves in that same sphere. If they’re playing classic heavy, they are the classic heavy ideal they’re working toward. Side B rolls out with the two-minute instrumental “Observationsnivåer,” which meets its early drum gallop with a slap of Iommic shred — and did I actually hear piano flourish in that transition after? — and the saunter of “Team Building” that becomes a light lumber as the second verse sets up the solo turn at 2:05. Do they bring back the chorus of course they bring back the chorus. How do you think teams are built? “Orbiter,” which follows, is the longest inclusion on Pendulum at 4:33, and is more charged than “Team Building” while working in a similar atmosphere early on, bringing together some of the impulses from side A and finding its own balance. A brief moment of heavier pummel gives over to a psychedelic wash of effects and toe-tapper shimmer-prog, but by this point the listener can readily trust Långfinger won’t lose the thread, and indeed they don’t.
The arrival of the organ that leads into the penultimate title-track stands it out from its surroundings, but becomes a grounding element for a song that seems to find the farthest points of shove and drift on the album that shares its name. As they have all the while, Långfinger demonstrate a particular attention to endings, and “Pendulum” races to its own to let closer “Skuggornas Hov” stand apart with the returning Mellotron and what I’m pretty sure are the first in-Swedish lyrics they’ve ever had for a song. Led by acoustic guitar with its vocals sounding farther off the mic and loosely folkish, “Skuggornas Hov” is no less considered in not kicking into full-weight tone and half-shouted urgency than “Towering” or “Pendulum” were in doing so. It’s been a hell of an eight years for just about everybody on the planet one way or the other, and Långfinger — who were actively tracking a follow-up to Crossyears in 2021 — are no exception, but the maturity that bleeds through Pendulum‘s component material delivers the record as a whole with a firm sense of intention, and however much went into its construction over whatever stretch of that time, it was anything but wasted.
Pendulum premieres in its entirety below, followed by the album info unceremoniously hoisted from Bandcamp.
Please enjoy:
Stalwarts of the underground rock scene in Sweden for the better part of two decades, Långfinger is set to release their fourth album “Pendulum”. An album that is as much of a retrospective as it covers new methods of noise as the band reemerges for the first time since 2016’s LP “Crossyears”.
“Pendulum” delivers direct, intense and playful rock music in an immersive long play format which might not make sense in the grown-up digital age, but for Långfinger, rock n roll is not about growing up, or making sense for that matter. It’s about the exploration and continuum of all things related to their sound that was, is and will be.
Tracklisting: 1. A Day at the Races 2. Cycles 3. Arctic 4. Towering 5. Dead Cult 6. Observationsnivåer 7. Team Building 8. Orbiter 9. Pendulum 10. Skuggornas hov
Produced by Olle Björk, Johan Reivén & Per Stålberg Recorded at Welfare Sounds by Olle Björk, Johan Reivén, Per Stålberg & Kalle Lilja Mixed by Olle Björk at Welfare Sounds Mastered by Johan Reivén at Audiolord Mastering Additional Engineering & Editing by Kalle Lilja Artwork: Tage Åsén Cover Design: Emma Lilja
Långfinger are: Kalle Lilja – guitar/backing vocals Victor Crusner – vocals/bass/keys Jesper Pihl – drums
Swedish gruel-sludgers Walk Through Fire will self-release Till Aska on April 12. And, I mean, you can like the record if you want, but they’re not gonna take it easy on you. By design, Till Aska is extreme in sound and intense of purpose, with quiet stretches throughout like the intro to its opening title-track (and thus the record as a whole) and the first-five-minutes dirge reply of the finale “Rekviem” that are creepier than they are bludgeoning, but still carry a violent threat. With Andreas Olsson‘s low end punching you repeatedly about the head as the four-piece slog through churning wretched miseries made all the more monolithic by virtue of the lyrics being in Swedish — that is, the language barrier becomes part of the heavy — and delivered at the fore of the mix in harsh, mid-range, nodule-forming post-hardcore barks.
I’ll spare you the Ingmar Bergman comparisons, but yes, Till Aska‘s 53-minute/five-song stretch is plodding of tempo and seems to drain all the color from the world surrounding. It is either the band’s fourth or fifth album, depending on whom you ask, and follows the live-recorded 2020 outing Vår Avgrund, which, guess what, was also really, really fucking heavy and miserable, with longer songs and more noise. Lineup changes between the two releases have seen the band go from two guitars to just that of Ufuk Demir — who’s also the one self-flagellating those vocals — and brought Esaias Järnegard in on organ, while Olsson and drummer Juliusz Chmielewski give shape to the sad motion of the down, down, downer riffs in “Fall I Glömska” as the band conjure visions of being buried alive after tree roots pull you under the dirt by your ankles.
With the guitar so densely distorted, the bass chucking concrete throughout most of the proceedings and Demir‘s unipolar viciousness as a defining element, there are times like in the later reaches of centerpiece/shortest-track “Genom Sår” where Järnegard‘s organ is the only thing coming close to some kind of melody, and as that takes the form of sad notes floating and drawn out over the measures, even the idea of hope seems distant. They very clearly made it to be unsettling, and it is.
Till Aska is my first experience with Walk Through Fire — though they appeared here when announced for Desertfest London 2015, then supporting 2014’s Hope is Misery and sharing a stage with (among others) Noothgrush, which fits — and the spaces they leave open in the material, whether loud or subdued as they are building into the lurch of “Självförintelse,” are like traps for the listener. Some bands hook you with catchy choruses and uptempo movement, etc. Walk Through Fire, with an abiding bleakness of atmosphere and roiling aggression, feels as it plays out like you’re sinking deeper. The crash and feedback and scathe of “Självförintelse” gives way shortly before the nine-minute mark to a drone that’s not actually a sample of a cardiac monitor flatlining, but is evocative of one all the same, and it’s from there that “Rekviem” begins its instrumental course, mournful and disdaining.
Yeah, I was being glib above with ‘you can like it if you want,’ blah blah, but the truth is that Till Aska comes across as being precisely what Walk Through Fire wanted to make it, even unto the way the songs are laid out with the two longest pieces bookending and the others working toward the shortest in the middle. The seething, low, slow grind feels born of sludge but is darker, less punk and leant an almost gothic presence at times by the organ, and like a lot of extreme music across a spectrum of microgenres heavy or not, it’s not the kind of fare every listener is going to call accessible. That’s probably putting it mildly. “Resonates omnidirectional disgust” might be a better way to phrase.
But you know, sometimes that’s just what you need.
“Fall I Glömska” premieres below, followed by the preorder link and more info from the PR wire:
Walk Through Fire on “Fall I Glömska”:
This song was written on a piano and had the working title Nortt (referring to the Danish artist). The lyrics are a mantra repeating, “fall i glömska, fall isär, fall på plats” — “fall into oblivion, fall apart, fall into place.”
The Swedish avant-garde doom/sludge stalwarts Walk Through Fire are releasing their fourth full-length Till Aska on April 12, 2024. A monolithic portrayal of loss and grief, Till Aska – “To Ashes” in English – will first debut only on digital formats and streaming platforms. While physical releases aren’t currently planned, the band are open to label collaborations should the opportunity arise.
Representing the finest edge that their respective genres can offer on a global scale, Walk Through Fire has been steadily cementing themselves as a notable phenomenon over the past seventeen years. Blending down-tuned oppressive soundscapes with contemporary and classical music, the sonically unrelenting act has crafted a unique appearance for itself by means of uncompromisingly expanding the perimeters found in the more common understanding of what heavy music can be, resulting in an annihilating force to be reckoned with. Whether the black metal tendencies of their debut Furthest From Heaven or the dirges for life tones of Vår Avgrund, Walk Through Fire’s musical focal point has always been to become an aural catharsis – Till Aska being perhaps the most potent and poignant example of reaching that exact state.
From the most profound hellish depths to the soaring heights, the five tracks of Till Aska contain the very essence of Walk Through Fire while stretching the spectrum wider than ever before. The over fifty-minute endeavour is equally captivating as it is difficult, guaranteeing an immersive and rich experience to anyone willing to place themselves under its crushing weight. Walk Through Fire are no strangers to the transcendence of dread and its multiple manifestations, and while Till Aska crawls around its listener’s spine as a fiery serpent, it also offers resolve and spiritual consummation unlike ever heard before.
Walk Through Fire – Till Aska 1. Till aska (11:39) 2. Fall i glömska (10:50) 3. Genom sår (7:24) 4. Självförintelse (11:43) 5. Rekviem (12:09)
Recorded, mixed and mastered by Linus Andersson at Elementstudio, Gothenburg Original artwork Frau mit totem kind (1903) by Käthe Kollwitz
Ufuk Demir — Guitars & Vocals Andreas Olsson — Bass Juliusz Chmielewski — Drums Esaias Järnegard — Organ
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 20th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
What I can’t get over here is how glad I am that Gothenburg’s Cities of Mars put out their 2022 self-titled (review here) before they put the band to bed, seemingly for good. What will now serve as the swansong from the big-riff conceptual/sci-fi themed trio was without a doubt the pinnacle of their progression up to the point of its release, following 2019’s The Horologist (review here) with a marked intentionality in their songwriting and a collection of tracks that reached boldly into new spaces. I’m sorry Cities of Mars won’t get its own foll0w-up, but nine years out from 2015’s initial single, Cyclopean Ritual/The Third Eye (review here), set their plotline in motion beneath the rusty Martian surface, fair enough to consider the tale as told as it’s going to be.
I’ll take a second to wish the band the best, and to say thanks for the work they did and the concrete-sledge-upside-the-head their grooves fostered. They’re very much stating the announcement below as a farewell — “we will miss you all, great people of the heavy underground…,” which does not say to me, “look for our new bands in two weeks” — but whatever they get up to, whether it’s different heavy projects or nothing at all, what they did together as Cities of Mars remains. From my standpoint, they were a joy to write about from the first offering to the last.
Their message is below, and duly up front in its point of view. I bought a shirt on Bandcamp as my own little goodbye. Here you go:
Even good things come to an end.
Following a shared decision between all band members, Cities of Mars is now dissolved.
We had a good run where we achieved more than we ever expected: we made four beautiful vinyl albums, we toured the underground scene in twelve countries, made so many new great friends and had mostly good times (and some bad times too, as it goes). We’ve had the opportunity to visited so many amazing cities and have played cool festivals.
We would like to extend our heartfelt thanks to everyone who came to any of our shows, shared a beer, bought a tee, helped us book a gig, promoted a show, gave us food or shelter or in many other ways became a part of our humble journey. Thanks to all the great bands we shared the stage and laughs with and whose company we’ve really enjoyed.
Some extra thanks are required: Roger Andersson, Gero Argonauta, Todd Severin, Ripple Music, Esben Willems, Kent Stump
For us it’s time to move on and do different things but we will miss you all, great people of the heavy underground, where the love of music is real. Be kind to another and be a part of the good fight that is needed in our bleak times.
All the best wishes and again, thank you! /Daniel, Chris & Johan
Cities of Mars: Danne Palm – lead vocals, bass, synths Christoffer Norén – lead vocals, guitar Johan Aronstedt – backing vocals, drums & percussion, sound FX
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 5th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
They’re not actually the same, but I can’t help but be reminded that a long, long time ago, in 1993, another based-in-Gothenburg outfit put out a record with a reference to ‘-ing darkness’ in its title. It was At the Gates‘ second record, With Fear I Kiss the Burning Darkness, and unlike Esben Willems, known best for his work in Göteborg riff forerunners Monolord but also in the Slayer covers project Slower and at the helm at his own Studio Berserk — which I think might audition including a ‘the’ in front of it: The Studio Berserk, in Gothenburg; maybe not all the time, but just on some shirts like The Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell or the Melvins — I’m pretty sure At the Gates weren’t talking about coffee.
Glowing Darkness — typed as I gulp my rapidly-cooling second cup of the day — is Willems‘ first solo foray and as a producer I think he’d probably be the first to tell you it sounds like it. It’s an exploration of songwriting and song-construction, an experiment in self-direction, and a display of personality quirk that not every artist is willing to make in manner that feels so sincere. “Cabaret Street,” the first single/video/opening track, is at the bottom of this post, and reminds me a bit of Masters of Reality in its weirdo-heavy take on pop bounce. See what you think.
Majestic Mountain will have the release and preorders are up, as the PR wire teaches us:
Pre-order for Esben Willem’s solo album ‘Glowing Darkness’ is now open!
OFFICIAL RELEASE MARCH 29TH! RECORDS SHIP IN MID-MARCH!
“Glowing Darkness” is the fruition of many years of songwriting, conceptual exploration and the pursuit of creative expression no matter one’s limitations.
A completely DIY, and multifaceted release full of texturally varied composition and irreverent lyricism, ‘Glowing Darkness’ reflects the struggle and absurdity of the human condition through Esben’s personal lens, and though largely autobiographical, at no point does the album take itself too seriously. Exuding endless amounts of catchy, foot tapping hooks and a healthy dose of anthemic raging, ‘Glowing Darkness’ is an inspiringly raucous ode to creating regardless of one’s limitations and includes nine tracks of hook rich, punk spirited alternative rock.
“I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange.” LT. DALE COOPER, TWIN PEAKS
At Majestic Mountain Records you can except the unexpected!
Track Listing: 1. Cabaret Steet 2. Dear Demon 3. Carte Blanche 4. Embrace The Fall 5. Slow Rain 6. Glowing Darkness 7. Space Bob 8. Fortune Teller 9. Across The Everything
Performed, produced, mixed, and mastered by Esben Willems at Studio Berserk Gothenburg. Photography by Jonas Andersson Layout by Rickard Höök
