Swedish dark cultists Saturnalia Temple released their Gravity album in 2020 on Listenable Records, and thereby plunged their audience deep into a murk of charred psychedelic resin and ritual-as-more-than-sales-pitch-for-riffs vibes. It’s not that the record was confused at all, just working on its own level entirely, and you can still hear that in the title-track, for which they’re streaming a video below, having premiered it in some unknowable past however many weeks and lifetimes ago.
The goth organ, the fuzz riff, the gurgling vocals adding a sense of the extreme to go with the fluidity of the rhythm — it is a niche into which Saturnalia Temple have not so much settled as constructed, their progression across three full-lengths like a movement downward into something unknown and unknowable. They’re still songwriting — “Gravity” has a chorus, a structure to its verses and follows a memorable, rolling nod — but the context in which that’s taking place is otherworldly, spiritual in its way, and willfully apart from standard genre tenets even as it pulls from various sides.
This Spring, Saturnalia Temple guitarist/vocalist Tommie Eriksson took part in the Roadburn Redux commissioned piece ‘Her True Nature’ by The Nest, featuring members of Wolvennest alongside fellow guests from DOOL, Primordial, Dread Sovereign and The Ruins of Beverast. That video was directed by M. from A Thousand Lost Civilizations, as is the clip for “Gravity” here, which brings together live footage of the band in manipulated, kaleidoscopic form, flashing color and seeing instruments become polygonal shapes, intertwining, moving; the visual message of the ritualization of sound only appropriate for the song it complements. Together they offer due transportation.
Enjoy:
Saturnalia Temple, “Gravity” official video
Tommie Eriksson on “Gravity”:
Gravity was written before all the world went mad, but now seems very prophetic. I aimed to describe and channel the spiritual strife of the initiatory path and how it often is at odds with the mundane world. We are very pleased to release the title song in a powerful and visually engaging as well as hypnotic video made by our talented collaborator Maia from A Thousand Lost Civilizations. The only way is in, into yourself, all other roads are blocked.
Title track from Saturnalia Temple’s Gravity album. Released on Listenable Records.
Video by M – A Thousand Lost Civilizations 2021
All Rights Reserved.
Saturnalia Temple is: Tommie Eriksson – Vocals, Guitar. Peter Karlsson – Bass. Kennet Granholm – Drums
Day Three. The kinds of material covered have varied, but it’s been pretty good so far, which as you can probably imagine makes this whole process much, much easier. Today would traditionally be hump day, where we hit and surpass the halfway mark, but since this is a double-size Quarterly Review, we’re only a quarter of the way there. Still a long way to go, but I’ve got decent momentum in my head at this point and I’ve taken steps not to make the workload crushing on any given day (this mostly involved working last weekend, thanks to The Patient Mrs. for the extra time), so I’m not feeling overly rushed either. Which is welcome.
In that spirit, let’s get to it.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
The Vintage Caravan, Monuments
To every sorrowful head who bemoans the state of rock and roll as being dead, who misses big songs, bands unafraid to groove, to engage their audience, to change things up and stay anchored to a vital spirit of the live experience, the answer is The Vintage Caravan. Monuments is the Icelandic trio’s follow-up to 2018’s Gateways (review here) and it opens with a righteous four-song mission-statement salvo from “Whispers” to “Dark Times” before mellowing out in “This One’s for You” and diving into the eight-minute centerpiece “Forgotten” — later answered by the more subdued but likewise proggy closer “Clarity” — before the hard-hitting shuffle renews on side B with “Sharp Teeth,” “Hell” and “Torn in Two” try to outdo each other in has-the-most-swagger and “Said & Done” sneaks in ahead of the finale to walk away with that particular title. Suitably enough. Momentum is almost a detriment to the proceedings, since the songs are worth individual attention, but among the classic tenets here is leave-’em-wanting-more, and The Vintage Caravan do, no question.
First thing to note? Oslo Tapes are not from Oslo. Or Trondheim, for that matter. Founded by Marco Campitelli in Italy, the band is a work of homage and exploration of ideas born out of a trip to Oslo — blessings and peace upon the narrative — and ØR, which is Norwegian for “confusing,” is their third album. It arrives loaded with textures from electro-krautrock and ’70s space modernized through to-day’s post-heavy, a breathy delivery from Campitelli giving a song like “Kosmik Feels” an almost goth-wave presence while the harder-landing “Bodø Dakar,” which follows, shifts with pointed rhythm into a textured percussion jam in its second half, with ethereal keys still behind. The shimmering psychedelia of “Norwegian Dream” comes paired with “Exotic Dreams” late in the record’s eight-track procession, and while the latter emphasizes Oslo Tapes‘ can-go-anywhere sensibility with horn sounds and vague, drumless motion, the hard dance in closer “Obsession is the Mother of All” really seems to be the moment of summary here. That must’ve been some trip.
Clocking in at 15 tracks and 77 minutes of deeply varied cosmic fuckery, from the motorik push of “Your Are the Sun” to the ’90s Britgaze stylizations of “Mystified” to the twanging central guitar figure of “The Air is Poison” and onward into the blowout kosmiche echo “Sweet Dreams and Nicotine” and chic the-underground-is-actually-made-of-velvet “Like a Halo” ahead of the Hawkwind-on-ludes “I’m Buggin’ Out,” Filthy Hippies‘ Departures at very least gets points for having the right title. Departs from everything. Reality, itself, you. The whole nine. The good news is the places it goes have a unifying element of grunge laziness woven throughout them, like Filthy Hippies just rolled out of bed and this material just happened — and maybe that’s how it went — and the journey they make, whistling as they go on “Among the Wire” and ending up in the wistful wash of “Empty Spaces” is a joy to follow. Heady. More purposeful than it’s letting on. Not a minor investment, but not a minor reward either.
Long since in command of their aesthetic, Norway’s Dunbarrow embark on III, their third long-player, with a full realization of their purpose. Recorded by the five-piece in Spring 2020 and left to gestate for a year’s time, it’s having been unearthed is suitable to the classic doom vibe wrought throughout the eight tracks, but Dunbarrow‘s sound is more vintage in structure than production at this point, and the shifting balance between ‘then’ and ‘now’ in what they do imagines what might’ve been if self-titled era Witchcraft had retained its loyalty to the tenets of Sabbath/Pentagram while continuing to grow its songcraft, such that “Worms of Winter” both is and is decidedly not “Snowblind,” while “Lost Forever” embarks on its own roll and “Turn in Your Grave” makes for an organ-laced folkish highlight, fitting in its cult atmosphere and setting up the rawer finish in “Turns to Dust.” This is who Dunbarrow are, and what they do, they do exceedingly well.
The year is 2076. The world’s first Whole Earth parliament has come together to bask in the document Transmission, originating in Gothenburg, Sweden, at the behest of an entity known only as Djinn and respected purveyor Rocket Recordings. It is believed that in fact Transmission and its eight component freak jazz psychedelia tracks were not written at the time of their first release some 55 years earlier, but, as scholars have come to theorize after more than a half-century of rigorous, consistent study, it is a relic of another dimension. Someplace out of place, some time out of time as humanity knows it. So it is that “Creators of Creation” views all from an outsider’s eagle eye, and “Urm the Mad” squees its urgency as if to herald the serenity of “Love Divine” to come, voices echoing up through the surcosmic rift through which Djinn sent along this Transmission. What was their purpose? Why make contact? And what is time for such creatures? Are they us? Are we them? Are we alone? Are we “Orpheus?” Wars have been fought over easier questions.
Their third album, Shevils‘ Miracle of the Sun renews the band’s collaboration with producer Marcus Forsgren, which obviously given the sound of the record, was not broken. With a tidy 10 songs in 32 minutes, the Oslo-based four-piece deliver a loyal reading of heavy hardcore riffing minus much of the chestbeating or dudely pretense that one might otherwise encounter. They’ve got it nailed, and the break as “Monsters on TV” squibblies out is a forceful but pleasant turn, especially backed by the pure noise rock of “Scandinavian Death Star.” The band plays back and forth between heft and motion throughout, offering plenty of both in “Wet Soaking Wet” and “Ride the Flashes,” hitting hard but doing more than just hitting at the same time. Topped with fervent shouts, Shevils feels urgent in manner that to my ears recalls West Coast US fare like Akimbo, but is nonetheless the band’s own, ranging into broader soundscapes on “No More You” and anti-shred on “It Never Ends,” the only two cuts here over four minutes long. No time to screw around.
If they haven’t been yet — and they may have — it’s entirely likely that by the time I’m done writing this sentence some record label or other will have picked up Paralyzed to release their self-titled debut album on vinyl. The Bamberg, Germany-based four-piece bring classic heavy metal thunder to still-Sabbathian doom rock, casting their lot in with the devil early on “Lucifer’s Road (My Baby and Me),” which feels like as much a statement of aesthetic purpose as it does a righteous biker riff. It’s by no means the sum-total of what’s on offer in a more extended piece like “Prophets” or side B’s rumble-and-roll-plus-wah-equals-doom “Mother’s Only Son,” but the brash fare they bring to light on “Green Eyes” and the post-lizard king-turns-Purple spirit of “Golden Days” tie in well with the toss-your-hair-in-the-wind, how’d-that-hole-get-in-my-jeans spirit of the release on the whole. They start instrumental with the eponymous “Paralyzed,” but vocals are a focus point, and as they round out with the rawer “Parallel,” their command of ’70s heavy is all the more evident. They signed yet? Give it another minute, if not.
Admittedly, I’m late to the party on Black Spirit Crown‘s 2020 debut full-length, Gravity, but as one will when in orbit, it’s easy to be pulled in by the record. The Ohio-based two-piece of Dan Simone (vocals, guitar, theremin, dulcimer) and Chris Martin (vocals, keys & programming, bass) — plus guitar spots from Joe Fortunato (Doomstress, ex-Venomin James) — flourish over longform progressive heavy rock pieces like “Doomstar” and “Orb,” both over eight minutes, and the 21:10 closing title-track, which well earns having the album named after it for its consuming balance between aural weight, darkness of atmosphere and tone, and breadth. Before the last several minutes give way to droning noise, “Gravity” counterbalances the metallic underpinning of “Saga” and the rush of the penultimate “Teutates,” its patience singular even among the other longer cuts, balanced in alternating fashion with the shorter. Peppered-in growls make the proceedings less predictable on the whole, and feel like one more strength working in favor of these complex compositions.
Intraveineuse, Chronicles of an Inevitable Outcome
Parisian instrumentalists Intraveineuse make a strong statement with their 32-minute/single-song debut EP, Chronicles of an Inevitable Outcome, the feeling of aftermath — regret? — permeating the goth-doom atmosphere coming through in tectonically-dense riffs as well as the piano that offsets them. France would seem to have a post-Type O Negative standard-bearer in Hangman’s Chair, but to discount Intraveineuse on that basis is to miss out on the flowing, immersive progression the band emit on this already-sold-out tape, working in three distinct movements to find their own place within the style, building momentum gradually until the last payoff cuts itself short, as if to emphasize there’s more to come. Hopefully, anyhow. EP or LP, debuts with this kind of scope are rare and not to be overlooked, and though there are stretches where one can hear where vocals might go, Intraveineuse ably steer “Chronicles of an Inevitable Outcome” through its various parts with natural-sounding fluidity.
Grim, gritty and ghastly, Void Tripper is the debut full-length from Brazil’s Void Tripper, comprised of five tracks marked by the shared/alternating vocals of guitarists Mário Fonteles and Anastácio Júnior. The former gurlges on opener “Devil’s Reject” while the latter complements with a cleaner take on the subsequent “Burning Woods,” setting up the back and forth that plays out in the remaining three tracks, “Hollow,” “Satan & Drugs” and “Comatose.” With the lumbering bass and drums of Jonatas Monte and Gabriel Mota, respectively, as the thickened foundation beneath the riffs, there are shades throughout of Electric Wizard and other acts to be heard, but it’s Sabbath-worshiping sludge one way or the other, and Void Tripper willingly head into that void with a dense fog preceding them and a bleak mood that does nothing if it doesn’t feel suited to our times. Riffy disaffection writ large. You wouldn’t call it groundbreaking, but you’d nod the fuck out.
Posted in audiObelisk on February 7th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Saturnalia Temple will release their third full-length, Gravity, through Listenable Records on Feb. 21. Checking in at 48 minutes of dark psychedelic cult heavy that’s alternately stripped to the core and manifesting a melt-brain churn of grim lysergic fluidity, it’s like a check-in from the Other Side on the behalf of the Stockholm trio, who were last heard from on 2015’s To the Other (discussed here and here), donning an experimentalism of substance and style that veers into multiple chasms of the delightfully, almost gleefully strange in songs like “Bitter Taste,” chanting vocals high in the mix over dug-in fuzz and willfully simple drums.
By that point in the record — that’s side B — the trio of guitarist/vocalist Tommie Eriksson, bassist Peter Karlsson and drummer Kennet Granholm have already trod through the soul-wrenching muck of the near-silent white noise intro “Tordyvel,” the deceptively catchy declarations of the eponymous “Saturnalia Temple” — on which Eriksson speaks the truth when he says, “In this temple we go beyond” — the organ-meets-buzzing-tone-and-gurgle-vocals of “Gravity” and “Elyzian Fields,” which I can only liken to F.O.A.D.-era Darkthrone in terms of the peeling back it does of any and all frills in cult doom.
That progression across Gravity‘s first four tracks is, to an extent, staggering in the shifts it presents, not the least because the band — who made their full-length debut with 2011’s Aion of Drakon — are so purposefully entranced by what they’re doing. Think of what Ramesses could do at their most dug-in, or other acts who readily give themselves over to the atmospheres they create. Saturnalia Temple is the vehicle by which, indeed, the band goes beyond.
Accordingly, Gravity is not ha-ha-hee-hee-let’s-write-a-song-about-the-devil cult rock. It’s exploration of sound itself as a ritual. The tones fill out somewhat as “Elyzian Fields” shifts into the 9:57 “Between the Worlds,” which is arguably the most liquefied of the inclusions here, building up slowly as it does into an extreme psychedelia cast in swirling shades of black set to a popping snare that seems like the only thing tying it to the earth at all. A long fade-out is prescient for what’s to come on the penultimate “Oannes,” but “Bitter Taste” takes hold in the immediate aftermath of “Between the Worlds” with a commanding, doomed severity in its riff and initial forward march, fuzz lead emerging before the otherworldly vocals, which are a far cry from the throaty incantations of “Gravity” and “Elyzian Fields” and the sort of mourning melody in “Saturnalia Temple,” but still fit with the album’s aesthetic overall, which, frankly, would allow for Saturnalia Temple to go just about anywhere and still be trapped in the murk of their own making.
In fact, that’s basically what they do. They create a world of consuming ambience and then populate it with various monsters and threatening figures, so much punishment and viciousness bleeding into the proceedings. “Oannes” brings the organ of “Gravity” back to the fore, but holds somewhat to the chanting style of the track before it, at least at the outset, and then shifts into full-on instrumental trance as it works its way through a solo and a long-fadeout instrumental march that probably could go another eight or nine minutes and be no less effective in sapping the listener of their consciousness. The closer, “Alpha Drakonis,” is something of an answer to “Tordyvel” in that it’s essentially an outro, but perhaps more-there, if that makes any sense.
And if it doesn’t, maybe all the better, since that seems to be the context in which Saturnalia Temple most thrive on Gravity. They dirge their way out on the relatively minimal progression, and it’s as fitting an end to Gravity as anything could hope to be, the statement of their long-goneness already well made in their fuck-with-form experimentation and use of production as another tool to emphasize the amorphousness of their sound, their ability to shape it to what they want it to be, whether that’s pure aural rot or a roiling ocean of bleak tonal currents. One way or the other, Saturnalia Temple give their audience a glimpse at the “beyond” to which they’re going. Whether or not a given listener is up to making the trip there themselves, one suspects, depends on the individual.
Can you open your heart and let decay in?
Find out with the premiere of “Saturnalia Temple” below. More PR wire info, preorder link for Gravity and tour dates follow:
Tommie Eriksson on “Saturnalia Temple”:
“Saturnalia Temple is a song that sums up everything we are on all levels. It is a true keystone for all we stand for. The lyrics is an invocation of the alchemical initiation that this band expresses, and the hypnotic riffs echo this with a vengeance.”
Saturnalia Temple TO RELEASE NEW ALBUM ‘GRAVITY’ IN FEBRUARY 2020
SATURNALIA TEMPLE – European tour with WOLVENNEST and DREAD SOVEREIGN. 21/2 – Rotterdam – Baroeg – NL 22/2 – London – The Dome – UK 23/2 – Paris – Gibus – FR 24/2 – Aarburg – Musigburg – CH 25/2 – Vienna – Escape – AU 26/2 – Krakow – Zet Pe Te – PL 27/2 – Berlin – Nuke Club – GER 28/2 – Oberhausen – Helvete – GER 29/2 – Brussels – Ancienne Belgique – BE
Saturnalia Temple is: Tommie Eriksson – Vocals, Guitar. Peter Karlsson – Bass. Kennet Granholm – Drums
