Posted in Whathaveyou on February 24th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Oh what fun this will be. I was fortunate enough to be in Oslo when London melodic heavy rockers Elephant Tree played Høstsabbat in 2018 (review here), and in addition to being the proverbial ‘buncha nice guys,’ they absolutely brought the house down starting off a day on the main altar stage of the Kulturkirken Jacob that also included Electric Moon and Asteroid before culminating with Amenra. Their being added to the 2023 edition of the festival, alongside Spaceslug and Black Rainbows, Bongripper and The Chronicles of Father Robin, reveals more of the character of the 10th anniversary edition of Høstsabbat, and as Elephant Tree are heading toward the release of a split with Lowrider as part of Blues Funeral Recordings‘ PostWax subscription series — for which, full disclosure, I do the liner notes; no, I haven’t heard the split yet and I’m not even sure it’s recorded — it’s all the more exciting to see them return here and imagine them back on that stage filling the tall cathedral ceiling with their particular take on laid back, increasingly progressive heavy. As Bender tells us: “it’s gonna be fun on a bun.”
That Elephant Tree have emerged as one of the foremost purveyors in one of the foremost regional heavy undergrounds in the world (i.e. the UK) is nice too, but I look forward to seeing them in-person, hope to get the chance to catch up and have a couple laughs like actual human beings as well before being subsumed in their breadth and fuzz. Høstsabbat doesn’t owe me any favors — I feel perpetually indebted, actually — but I kind of feel like I’ve just been done one all the same.
The fest posted the following on socials a bit ago, as is their Friday wont:
HØSTSABBAT 2023 – ELEPHANT TREE
Finally Friday!
The best day of the week. Announcement day!
As our anniversary approaches, you will notice some familiar names on the lineup. The occasion itself gives us the opportunity to reminisce in some of the moments we think stood out the most over the years. What a joy!
The first flashback comes from the British shores. If anyone recalls the marvelous appearance from Elephant Tree back in 2018, we surely hope you agree with us, in inviting the lads back.
They gave us something special: a strong feeling of unity in riffs, rhythms and goosebumps. They blew us away basically.
Elephant Tree operates in galaxy far far away from the average stoner/doom band. They have a special way around their arrangements.
Their shimmering yet laidback output is both intriguing and soothing at the same time. Their subtle heaviness combined with their beautiful harmonies might draw comparison to the grunge legends in Alice in Chains even.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 17th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Currently and formerly featuring members of Wobbler, Tusmørke, Les Fleurs du Mal and others, the conceptual medieval prog outfit The Chronicles of Father Robin might be called a supergroup within the sphere of Norwegian progressive rock, as the band uses instrumentation traditional and modern (also vintage, in rock terms) to affect a folk-informed style of their own. Given the personnel involved and their various other ongoing projects, it makes sense that their appearance at Høstsabbat 2023 is years in the making, and while the sound is different, their joining the lineup feels born of the same impulse that saw Needlepoint added last year, as well as emblematic of the growth of the fest overall throughout the 10 years the anniversary of which will be celebrated this October.
The band successfully crowdfunded a 3LP box set of narrative recordings that date back to the 1990s, so one expects that will be pressed by the time this Fall rolls around. I’ll cop to not being familiar with their work prior to this post, but as far as I’m concerned, Høstsabbat have earned trust enough to just roll with it and see how it turns out. In any case, they bring something to Høstsabbat 2023 that none of the weekly lineup additions has yet brought, and the broader the fest’s reach gets, the stronger it becomes.
Good fun:
THE CHRONICLES OF FATHER ROBIN
It’s in total awe and with massive reverence that @hostsabbat takes on the task of introducing all of you to the enchanting realm of our next announcement: The Chronicles of Father Robin.
This band is a definite one of a kind, and most likely a hidden gem to most of you.
It’s a band we’ve been in sporadic contact with since our early years, and the thrill of finally announcing them is real. We are very glad it worked out for our upcoming anniversary.
The Chronicles of Father Robin find themselves swaddled in medieval sounds.
Organs, flutes, bells and whistles. You name it. They put the age in vintage. Like a bottle of wine, found in cellar in an abandoned Italian fortress, guarded by the elves from Rivendell itself.
The mellow soundscapes this all-star-prog-rock-collective enables are timeless, and ageless, and everything but powerless. There are most certainly amps, grooves and riffs at work here too.
All this, combined with their otherworldly, magical vocals, makes The Chronicles of Father Robin one of the quintessential bands of this year’s lineup.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 10th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
This is maybe even the third time Spaceslug have been confirmed for Høstsabbat, though one wonders at this point if anything that happened in 2020 either was real or counted. In any case, the Polish progressive heavy psychedelic rockers are slated for the 10th anniversary of the venerable Oslo-based festival after originally being announced last year and ultimately unable to make the trip. They go in support of late 2021’s Memorial (review here), which further thickened the plot of their aesthetic with deeper turns into darker and more metal-derived divergences. They are one of the best bands Poland has produced in the last decade-plus, and I very, very much hope to be in Norway this October when they play the church. It is a fitting space for a sound that’s as much a tapestry as theirs.
As I said last week when Black Rainbows was announced, I’m going to try to keep up with the Høstsabbat 10th anniversary lineup as bands are announced over the next however-many weeks. I’ve got a lot of love for the people who put it together and make it go, and when the pickups are as good as theirs have been so far for 2023, it’s that much more fun to follow along.
They put the following on socials this morning:
HØSTSABBAT 2023 – SPACESLUG (PL)
Høstsabbat has been lucky over the years, with very few cancellations all together. Last year, however, it happened to us as well.
Many of you were eagerly awaiting, and rightfully so, the magic of Spaceslug, and we knew we had to give them another chance. This year, the Polish wizards are coming to church with a vengeance.
That Polish doom scene, peeps? It’s so lush and vital it’s ridiculous, and our love for it is absolutely no secret. The soulful music this country keeps pouring out is beyond. The heavy and deeply melodic presence sets its scene apart, in the richest and most enchanting of ways.
To stand out amongst their peers, SPACESLUG have carved their own path. A path of riffs. Here they can wander between sabbathian swing and the darker complexity of the post-metal world without looking back, and with the greatest of ease. On top of this, they manage to add melody, harmonies even, resulting in a unique, spellbinding mix of SPACESLUG mastery.
Please welcome SPACESLUG to our ten-year anniversary!
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 3rd, 2023 by JJ Koczan
It is my sincere hope and intention to be back in Oslo this coming October for the 2023 edition of Høstsabbat. Following up on Green Lung, Bongripper (who’ll headline one of the two nights), Witch Club Satan, Cult Member and Alastor being previously announced over the last two weeks, the Norwegian festival today unveils Black Rainbows as next to join its already weighty bill. By the time Fall rolls around, hopefully the Roman three-piece’s next album will be out on Heavy Psych Sounds, the label founded by guitarist/vocalist Gabriele Fiori, and this announcement follows confirmations for them at festivals earlier in the year like Heavy Psych Sounds‘ own two fests in Italy in April, Stoned From the Underground in Germany this July, SonicBlast in Portugal this August, among others I’m sure.
I guess Høstsabbat are doing an announcement per week, if the pattern of the last three is anything to go by. Going to do my best to keep up (I’m already behind, so take that as you will), so here’s what they have to say today with the promise of more to come:
HØSTSABBAT 2023 – BLACK RAINBOWS (IT)
Today’s announcement are no rookies to our scene. Black Rainbows has been around for over a decade, slinging quintessential, blues-laden, heavy psych riffs with the greatest of ease.
A true powerhouse trio out of Italy, making the riffs roll like there’s no tomorrow. Good music comes from heartfelt passion and a will to deliver and share this exact passion. Black Rainbows has pole position when comes to doing just that. These three Romans are a good reminder to most of us why we got into these dirt-dripping grooves in the first place. Pure joy, pure riffs, pure everything.
So, Sabbathians; When in Rome..
Please welcome the riff mastery of Black Rainbows to Høstsabbat 2023!
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 30th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Høstsabbat 2023 follows its first announcement of the year, which brought Green Lung, Alastor, Cult Member and Witch Club Satan to the bill, with Bongripper. And as Bongripper will, the news lands with a rather significant thud when one imagines the long-running Chicago crush-minded instrumentalists stepping on the altar of the Kulturkirken Jakob and laying waste with tonality to shake the floor and the kind of volume you feel in your chest. Clearly for the festival’s 10th anniversary they’re going all out.
That’s gonna be good and I’ll tell you outright I hope I’m there to see it, though I acknowledge that as the festival grows, expands in sound, adds venues, etc., and becomes part of the cultural fabric of its host city — which it will continue to do as it enters its second decade, no doubt — my small-fry ass is at best tagging along. There are videographers filming sets with meaningful slow motion headbanging and actual photographers to take pictures, so having me hobble around between stages feels superfluous. For me, that’s all the more reason to appreciate being there. For them, it’s less of a reason to have me. Those two lines invariably intersect at some point.
Nonetheless, whether I end up going or not, this is a great fest put on by wonderful people — Ole, Jens, Vesper, and their crew — and I’m happy to support as best I’m able. This news landed Friday and I didn’t see it until the week was already closed out, but if you missed it or just want to listen to some Bongripper — reasonable — here it is, as per social media:
When we first got hold of the church as our venue in 2018, there was a few bands that instantly came to mind. The acoustics, the setting, the space. Everything about it. It almost felt like the church was longing to be crushed by certain bands itself. One of those bands is Bongripper.
For our 10-year anniversary the stars aligned, and BONGRIPPER is flying out from Chicago to give Høstsabbat a masterclass in pure, distinct and emotional heaviness. Chicago seems to be our go-to city in the US these days, and it feels great to follow up the performances with REZN and Indian from last year, with the purveyors of instrumental, thundering, monstrous doom.
Bongripper hits you like a steamroller, and will leave no ear drums unmarked.
We couldn’t be more stoked.
Please welcome Bongripper as one of our headliners!
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 20th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Generally speaking, I probably wouldn’t include four media players for a four-band festival lineup announcement, but it seems to me like Høstsabbat in Oslo — which last year destroyed eardrums of many and at least one knee (mine) — is making a point. Adding Green Lung, well on their way to being a Very Big Deal, lets you that the festival is continuing to expand its reach, bring in bigger/emerging names to play on the altar at Kulturkirken Jakob, which is about as perfect a setting for this band in particular as I can think of. Having Alastor from Sweden digs deeper into newer-school stoner doom, heavy and brash in a way that feels consistent with who Høstsabbat are and makes me wonder if the band might, like Green Lung, have a new record in the offing. Something to keep an eye on.
At the same time, Witch Club Satan are raging black metal and Cult Member are hardcore, so some of the experimentalist tinge that Høstsabbat has brought forth in the last couple years is continuing, and perhaps flourishing, in 2023. The fest is adding another venue too, so it seems like maybe it’s becoming a choose-your-adventure kind of affair rather than a swap between stages. I guess that was the case this year too. I missed Astrosaur and will likely be kicking myself for years on that one.
In any case, there’s a lot to dig here and a lot to keep an eye on, and yeah, there’s four Bandcamp players below. The idea is four outfits each offering something different from the others. If you listen, I think you’ll find you agree that’s the case.
Fest announcement follows:
GREEN LUNG // HØSTSABBAT 2023
As you might remember, the fine Brits in Green Lung was supposed to play Høstsabbat in 2020. No need for further reminiscence, right?
Much has happened since then, and such also with Green Lung.
The London Lords of the Underground managed to outshine their wonderfully praised debut, with last years´»Black Harvest», and the tale of the green lungs skyrocketed into an abyss formerly unknown for the four piece. From a very promising up- and coming band, Green Lung were all of a sudden on everyone’s lips, playing every festival there is and constantly expanding their horde of Lungsmen. Much respect and very well deserved.
Stacked with sick riffs and an otherworldly control of their sorcerous craft, Green Lung will put their spell on Oslo for the first time this coming October.
All hail the Green Lung!
WITCH CLUB SATAN – Bloodmother // HØSTSABBAT 2023
One of the most refreshing sensations swirling out of our domestic music scene, is last years´ introduction to a true force of nature; WITCH CLUB SATAN.
These three Witches do something else entirely.
Witch Club Satan is a feminist Black Metal band, shining new, fresh and forward thinking light to the darkest of all genres.
Mentored by Necrobutcher from Mayhem himself, they are combining their theatrical background with a ferocious, yet gentle live mass. The live experience is on a different level all together.
Their music is cold, primal and punishing, their attitude the same.
Witch Club Satan will replenish our church of riffs with elements primarily unseen.
The spell of the Bloodmother is already here.
ALASTOR // HØSTSABBAT 2023
Høstsabbat and Sweden go way back, and this year will be no different.
We take pride and find lots of joy in keeping our eyes peeled on what´s cooking in the east. Their neighbouring influence and talent is outstanding.
Alastor is the first Swedish band to accompany our ten-year anniversary.
Being far from strangers to our community, these guys have been on our radar ever since their 2017-release «Black Magic».
We are stoked to finally welcome the Swedish priests of the occult to church, and not to mention; Norway for the very first time.
Alastor is one of those bands honoring the legacy of Jus & Liz from Dorset in the best possible way. Their stonerdoom is perfectly crafted, with dripping hints of horror, blood and rituals.
Let’s bow to the altar of Alastor.
CULT MEMBER // HØSTSABBAT 2023
The north has its very own qualities in so many different ways. A beautiful vastness in all its encompassing nature. Warm people in a cold climate. Their darkness is real, half of the year at least. But it has to be something in the water too. Northern Norway, and Tromsø in particular, keeps fishing and pushing forward outstanding bands from what seems to be an unlimited sea of talent.
Cult Member are the leaders of this pool, and find themselves in the absolute forefront of the ongoing hardcore attack from up north. They have a live presence as demolishing as their mountains, and they somehow manage to spark their recordings with the same fire.
«Infinite Death» from last year was a definite favorite.
It´s a sick album, delivered with cheery authority, icy chugs and razor sharp musicianship.
It makes you angry, but in the most positive way!
We can not wait for their onslaught at Høstsabbat 2023
Posted in Features, Reviews on October 9th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Before; haunting the Chapel
At some point yesterday afternoon I did… something? to my knee. Maybe before Needlepoint played. I had been sitting on the thankfully clean floor near the front of the stage between acts, like you do to take pictures in sans-pit cases, and in getting up, felt and heard a pop, and it has hurt steadily since. Made it through the rest of the day, obviously, but by the time I was headed back to the hotel, was fairly well hobbling, and this morning that discomfort was right where I left it after my jetlagged ass slept for 10 hours last night. I can’t quite find a position for it between straight and bent that’s comfortable and my well-intentioned ‘see how it feels tomorrow’ plan feels as dumb as it is.
In addition to being old and out of any kind of shape that isn’t spheroid — plus I’m a wuss, if that wasn’t clear — it is a humbling reminder of the confirmed wreck that my body is, has always been. I would call it existentially unpleasant in an effort to sap it of an emotional context, which, while we’re here, also strikes me as ridiculous. Nonetheless, I hurt. I’m going to try to take it easy today, whatever that even means, and sit as much as I can, but I promise you, “sit as much as I can” is basically my motto for life. Put it on the family crest. Tattoo it on my arm on fancy script like a metalcore toughguy from the aughts. We are who we are. I remain approximately 40 percent human. The rest?
It’s a sunny day on Oslo and there are rad birds around to further the autumnal atmosphere of the city, or at least the block of it between the hotel and Kulturkirken Jakob. When I picture it, Oslo is overcast, so to see blue sky feels new, but no complaints.
Sturle Dagsland is soundchecking and already pushing his voice to frequencies usually reserved for amplified mosquitoes, so that should make for an interesting set. There’s time before we get there, so more coffee and lollygagging are the order of the moment. I suck at taking it easy. Thus xanax.
In case I don’t post again before I’m home, I want to extend my sincere thanks to Jens, Ole and Vesper for having me over once again. This festival is beautiful even when the music is at its ugliest, and for much more than the visual impact of the Kulturkirken Jakob, striking as that is. I deeply value the opportunity to come here and kick around my imposter syndrome for a couple days, see amazing stuff and do my best to convey a little bit of what it’s like to anyone else who might care enough to read. If that’s you (and if you’re seeing this, surprise! it is!), then thank you.
HØSTSABBAT 2022 NIGHT TWO
Sturle Dagsland
The music of everything and everything-is-music, Sturle Dagsland was not alone on stage but is clearly driven toward artistic singularity just the same. Before he went on, there was a kind of mini-presentation of am Edvardprisen, a music prize that would seem to have been well earned, given what unfolded after. Experimentalism drawing on modern dance, electronic music, extreme metal, Wardruna-style Norse-ism, pop, indie, and a deeply varied swath of assorted styles like a shopping cart full of genre, he not only claimed the Edvardprisen but the award as well for the best leggings this year at Høstsabbat, though admittedly there was a dearth of competition in that regard. More art-house-appreciation than a rocking start to the day, the passion fueling the testing and passing of limits was palpable. Everybody has an inner clock for how much of that kind of thing they can absorb, of course, but it’s hard not to respect both the vision of a world music that comes from another world and the bravery to manifest it wholeheartedly on stage. From trumpet to flute to maybe-oboe, hands crashing through cymbals, hang-style drum, synth beats swelling and receding, keys, vocals in god knows how many octaves and time signatures, each short piece fed into an encompassing scope that was expressive beyond my language barrier to it and markedly individual.
Bismarck
Well then. Bismarck signed to Majestic Mountain today, and they debuted the rager “Sky Father” to mark the occasion. It was one among the multitude of pummelers they had on hand, and the lumbering groove, tonal largesse and atmoslusge heft was like a cold-cloth on a fevered soul. I stood, against better judgement, up front for about half the set and hung back thereafter, but my goodness this is what I need. When my son and I go on rollercoasters, the running joke is “this is what we need,” because if he doesn’t get that level of vestibular input periodically he loses his mind. If I don’t get regular doses of volume like this, it’s the same thing. Sometimes you just need to be crushed. Fortunately for me and whatever form of neural atypicality this represents — call it “doombrain” as a diagnostic shortcut — Bismarck were ready with a suitable nod of low end. They should give prizes for this kind of thing too. Or at least a grant, though I’ll admit that, being in a country that puts its money where its mouth is as regards funding, there may well already be such grants. In any case, Bismarck’s take on tone, ambience and aggression was just right in its moment, and I am swallowed by it.
Norna
Years from now I hope I’m able to recall Norna hitting the Chapel stage after Bismarck played in the Crypt and how good that one-two punch of weighted sludge felt. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to listen to this band without thinking of Ole Helstad, one of the founders of Høstsabbat, who is a nigh-on-rabid fan, and one suspects that’s why they’re here — if you believe it should be otherwise, I would only ask what you think music is for in the first place — but that only made me want to see them more. Assured in craft and at times scathing in their delivery, they were a far cry from the deranged sensibilities of Indian last night, but showed how such leveling volume can be wielded toward ends as much about life as death. I say that, but they were largely unilateral in their destructive outletting, perhaps the moment when the old forest burns so that new growth can take hold. The band’s pedigree goes back decades to the more hardcore-minded Breach, and if Norna are post-that, they’re post- a few other things as well, but their sound held an urgency that felt born of a trash-punk youth, even if it’s long since left that style behind.
Dopelord
Stoner and doom! They mentioned from the stage that they were about to sing a song about the devil in a church, which if they did it in their home country of Poland would get them thrown in jail. I could see them catching flack for it — less likely imprisoned — in the US too, though that depends pretty much on the state. Another day carnival of weedian riffage here, I suppose. Dopelord’s resin-coated nod came through potent and duly sticky, guitars on either side of the stage leading through a well-constructed wall of distorted fog, lumbering like a dayjob but too stoned to hold one down. I’ve dabbled before in their studio stuff — a tourist’s interest in what I imagine even they’d have to admit is a pretty simple concept for a band; loud, thick riffs, big groove and the kind of themes that can get you arrested if sung in a Polish church — but the dual-vocal swaps lent character to what struck as a purposeful familiarity. That is, seeing them live, I don’t think they’re trying to get away with anything revolutionary so much as celebrating a specific stylistic and tonal ideal. Like the t-shirt says, “Sabbath worship.” The better bands are able to take that and make something of their own from it and I’ll happily put Dopelord in that category now that I’ve seen them. Also, the place went nuts for them, which, frankly, I get.
The Black Wizards
A boogie rock cover of “21st Century Schizoid Man?” Count me in. Portuguese trio The Black Wizards were good vibes even before they seemed to medley their way into and out again from the King Crimson classic, drawing on hard ’70s vibes with vigor enough to actually convey them. The Crypt was packed by the time I got there, but I wound up able to get a spot by the side of the stage area by following the band through the crowd as they went on. Dick move on my part, I guess, but it worked. The band brought a joyful shuffle from which the bass sounded especially smooth, and despite some feedback of the not-purposeful kind on the mics, they carried through with a bluesy spirit and a power trio ethic of bass and drums holding down the groove while the guitar solos. This, plus swing — which was in ready supply — equals the sum total of what one can reasonably ask, but the tempo shifts were a welcome bonus. The real test of boogie is can it twist, and The Black Wizards answered a hard yes. Their set was tight but fun, classic drawing as much from more modern interpretations of ’70s heavy as from that era itself, and the solos when they came were the kind of thing you’d answer with a fire wmoji, maybe followed by a heart, your choice, red or green. They could play, and knew it, but there was no pretense whatsoever about what they were doing. I think this might just be what party rock sounds like in Europe now. Cool by me. Probably really cool by Graveyard, who’ll play soon up in the Chapel.
Årabrot
People worship this band. Like, religiously. I’m not arguing with doing so; just noting there’s a cult for Årabrot and I’m on the outside of it. In fact, this was my first time seeing them, which is something I think put me in the minority among the crowd assembled for their set. My knee was ‘barking,’ in the parlance of not-at-all-our times, so somehow it made more sense to go up to the Galleri — happy to call it what the sign says — rather than attempt to stay up front to get pictures. If you’ve been waiting to see me try and fail to get decent shots of Årabrot, I apologize. I don’t have a bad word to say about what I saw of their set, save maybe for ‘shit’ in the context of ‘well shit, I should probably listen to more Årabrot,’ though I knew that going into the experience. Love the Americana-that-isn’t via Sisters of Mercy post-noise rock though, and I respect both the niche and the performance aspect — they weren’t just playing; it was a show, costumes, hat and all — even if I’m still not ready to sign up for cult. They pulled the biggest crowd of Høstsabbat thus far though — I had a good view — and the Chapel seemed duly fit for worship. Fine. Again, I’m not ragging on it — I promise you I’m not — but I’d been looking forward to what was going to unfold in the Crypt soon, so I left my Galleri perch well in time to get a spot up front in the basement. I do get to say I’ve seen Årabrot though, so that’s one for the résumé, which I’ll be sending out hopefully never again.
Slomatics
Got treated to a new song — the name of which I didn’t catch; was it “Mightor?” — during their soundcheck. That alone made me feel justified in showing up like 40 minutes before they went on. I be honest with you, they were what my weekend was building toward and there was about zero possibility short of their not making the trip that I was going to walk away from their set disappointed. Just no chance of it happening. Their set? Riff after lumbering riff exactly like I knew it would be, and I count myself extra lucky for having seen them twice this year. All that aural weight, bouncing off the ceiling, off the back wall of the Crypt, off the floor. It would have been devastating were it not rapturous. I don’t know if I’ve seen another complete set this weekend, but aside from the packed crowd behind where I was up by the stage monitors, it was pretty clear early on that I was in it for the duration. No regrets. I closed my eyes, pulled my earplugs loose just for a minute of “And Yet it Moves” — you don’t want them out for long — and was perfectly content to nod my way into ultra-heavy oblivion. Marty Harvey vocals were low in the mix, but I actually suspect that was due more to where I had parked myself, and David Majury and Chris Couzens’ guitars, running through bass and guitar amps, offered maximum plunge. What an absolute fucking joy they were, and smiling and laughing and “skol”ing the crowd all the while. I could go on, but the bottom line is that anytime life affords you a chance to see Slomatics, you do it. Leaning there on my screwed up knee, sweaty, tired — that’s right I said I was tired at a rock and roll show, fight me; I’m like Prince fucking Valium out here — none of it or anything else mattered just for a little bit. Just to lose yourself in it for that little bit. An incomparable feeling.
Graveyard
I don’t want to say I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Graveyard — it’s been like seven years? — but they were the icing on my spire-shaped Høstsabbat cake, if you want to go that way with it. In fact, they were a thrill. I had a “oh yeah I know these songs!” moment early and from there it was just a matter of being reminded how much I actively like Graveyard. Joakim Nilsson, his head tilted just so, playing his hollow-body guitar, is aging into the bluesman he’s always been working toward being, and “Uncomfortably Numb” made the point all the more resonant. They’re pros to be sure. Now more than a decade removed from breaking through to a broader audience with 2012’s Hisingen Blues (review here), they’re every bit the headliner, and they played like it. Their influence over a generation of heavy rock, the way they took vintage methods and absolutely owned them. They played in the only spot they possibly could, which was last, and if they were the epilogue, then hell’s bells, what a story. “Ain’t Fit to Live Here.” Shit. Great band. I’ll leave it at that.
—
Before I turn you over to the rest of the photos (if you’re so inclined to check them out), one more word of thanks to Jens, Ole and Vesper, whose efforts now that the fest is over I hope make them proud. This thing they made was incredible, and the world is a better place because it happened. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. And thank you for reading, and thanks as always to The Patient Mrs., through whom all things are possible. My love.
Posted in Features, Reviews on October 8th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Before, during Kanaan soundcheck
Almost three years to the day since I was last in Norway for Høstsabbat. Some things are different, some are not. I slept almost the entire flight. Blessed by Apollo (or whoever) with an empty seat next to me in a two-person row, I was able to lie down if not stretch out, and that second airline pillow is key.
I remembered to go to the right at Oslo airport to get to the trains even before I saw the sign not quite screaming in my face to do so, and got into town with enough time to crash for another hour before showering and trying to make myself look human enough to be in public for a while. One does one’s best, anyhow. We must acknowledge some causes long since lost. I’ve always thought of myself as more bridge than cave troll, but even that’s perhaps more romantic than “doughy suburban dad.”
In any case, people are busily busying themselves with busy-looking stuff. Laptops are out. I got told to remove my ass from the balcony a brief moment after taking a picture of the church itself — the venue, Kulturkirken Jacob, is an old church repurposed as an arts/performance space, which is about the best fate one could ever hope for concerning a religious institution — so came downstairs to write, get more coffee and see who’s where. I have a press pass, so I think I can wander a bit. With an hour and a half till showtime, I should probably do that.
My expectations are high here based on prior experience with Høstsabbat, but more than anything I am humbled to be here at all among these incredible people and the likewise incredible event they’re about to make happen. One hopes to stay out of the way, will likely fail. Fair enough.
Kanaan just started playing full volume. Only for a minute, but it was a welcome reminder: Everything’s going to be okay once the music starts. One more coffee before then, maybe.
HØSTSABBAT 2022 NIGHT ONE
Kanaan
Says something that even as Oslo’s own Kanaan celebrate their 2021 Earthbound (review here) LP by performing it in full, they’ve got two newer works out there as well in the 27-minute piece “Beyond” included on a four-way split through Worst Bassist Records and the forthcoming album, Diversions Vol. I: Softly Through Sunshine on Jansen. They are ascendant as well as prolific, each outing offering something new or at least a broadened take on what came before. I feel like I have a better understanding having seen them live, even if a full-album set isn’t the most representative of their work on the whole, their range was by no means absent from that material, however terrestrial it may be on relative terms. Drums, guitar/bass/synth, and guitar all in a line near the front of the stage, Kanaan pulled a packed house early crowd and the audience clearly were not showing up by happenstance. All hall the next generation. Capital-‘h’ Heavy needs this turnover to happen desperately in the next few years, and if Kanaan are among the vanguard for it, so much the better for the intricacy of what they play and the obvious heart with which they play it. They killed and sound like they’re only getting better. Now I get to say both I’ve seen them and that I ‘prefer the live version’ of Earthbound. Ultimate snobbery.
Kosmik Boogie Tribe
My camera fell out of my bag before their set. Full height, cosmic backpack betrayal. Imagine seeing the nicest thing you own bounce off a cement floor. I said a very loud, very much in English “fuck!” but it turned out okay. Might be time for a new camera bag, but will be extra careful in the meantime. Fortunately Kosmik Boogie Tribe were a salve for such concerns, blowing the dust off soul and floor alike with their classic, somehow punk-ish heavy rock and roll. This was riffs, beer, maybe the odd bit of what they call ‘flower’ now that it’s legal where I live. Good vibes, high energy, and no screwing around despite all the screwing around. Aside from my relief and not, you know, needing a new camera, I was pulled in by Kosmik Boogie Tribe’s infectious energy and shut-up-and-go, 1-2-3-4-play verve. Rock and roll can be an outright blast when you do it right. I was only passingly familiar before, so relished the chance to see them open in the crypt, which was immediately full. I hate to think of Høstsabbat outgrowing that space — they say to show up early, and I did — but they had a line of people waiting to get into the space in front of the not-quite-a-stage, and reasonably so. It was packed in there. Better show up early next time too. Kosmik Boogie Tribe had a couple live LPs for sale, and seemed well on board for sonic shenanigans, leaving me with the best kind of homework to do later on.
Needlepoint
I suppose it would be too unsuitable to their ultra-mellow, vibe-minded style to say Needlepoint made waves with 2021’s Walking Up That Valley (review here). Gentle waves, then, to coincide with the melodies with which they and you while listening seem to be taking a casual pleasant stroll that then turns into the kind of conversation about life that changes the way you think, ever so slightly, but more than you realize. I would be willing to bet actual kroner that every single guy in this band was at some point the best player in another band. They’re technical enough to be a showcase, but that melody highlights an utter disinterest in that particular kind of indulgence. Instead, Needlepoint, who are from here, focus on the organic, a kind of particularly Scandinavian folk moving in along with the jazzy drums, smooth, smooth, smooth basslines and interweaving progressions of keys/organ and finger-plucked guitar, Bjørn Klakegg’s likewise soft vocal delivery reinforcing the intent without over-selling it or coming across as hackneyed. I went upstairs to the balcony to watch the full set and they were done before I even knew it was time. Bonus kudos, as the dudes from Kanaan were down the front the whole set. One can only imagine the drummer-chat that will ensue likely a respectable amount of time after Needlepoint’s gear is off stage. These guys are classy, no need to bother immediately.
U-FOES
I must’ve listened to U-FOES before but could not tell you when. In any case, their noise, sludge-more-in-tone-than-mindset take on hardcore-bred riffing was a hilarious enough contrast to Needlepoint immediately prior that it felt like everyone was in on the gag, which is how it should be if you’re going to do that kind of thing. I didn’t stay long, wanted to grab more coffee, check in at home, etc., but I could hear them through the floor up in the chapel a few minutes later and they sounded duly caustic. Hey, I’m from the Northeastern corridor of the United States, ergo, it’s not my first time hearing hardcore and metal and sludge get slammed together for the sake of aural and artistic release, and while they weren’t really my thing, rest assured that’s on me, not them. Dressed all in white with strobe a-plenty for lighting, they balanced a raw sound of guitar, drums, vocals against a markedly severe atmosphere and hit into some hard grooves along the way.
The Moth Gatherer
Stockholm’s The Moth Gatherer had me by the time they were halfway into “The Drone Kingdom” from 2019’s Esoteric Oppression, and that opened the set. Best bit of post-metal I’ve seen on this stage since Amenra, and I remembered seeing The Moth Gatherer here in 2018 (review here), the difference between that set and this one is this time they were upstairs and absolutely owned the room. Barking vocals, undulating nod, atmospheric sludge-style riffing, lurch, immersion, the whole nine. Some clean vocals changed things up fluidly, but the lesson learned is that clearly I should go back an album or two and give them another shot. Not too many surprises — and to be fair, they’re not really playing to a style that offers them once you know what you’re looking for, but their stage presence was unquestionable and they found a place between the destructive and restorative that made them hypnotic to watch even before the video projections or strobe effects were factored in. Høstsabbat has expanded enough that it’s impossible to see all of it — that’s freeing, in a way, since one feels less obliged to do so — but I felt no doubt in watching The Moth Gatherer that I was at the right place at the right time.
Orkan
Jetlag and boogie do not historically mix, but Orkan are infectious just the same. With the Swedish five-piece taking the floor in the Crypt, Høstsabbat enters the sax-inclusive portion of the evening, and Orkan put theirs to good use, incorporating the brass as part of their classic-heavy-derived sound while leaving room for the dual guitars and the harmony-prone, just-about-everybody-sings-at-one-point-or-another vocal arrangements. Zero complaints whatsoever, except perhaps the lack of room with the crowd press behind me to give their songs the softshoe they deserved. Also I did something to my knee, because I am old. The point is that Orkan, who were had all the ’70s in their sound you could possibly ask for without actually being 70 years old, were a band I’d probably just about never get to see, and that’s worth cherishing, softshoe or no. I scuttled off to the side of the room and sat for a few, just kind of taking in that vibe, and as with everything else I saw at Høstsabbat night one, they were united to the rest of the lineup by a broadly-defined sense of what makes music heavy. In this case, it was their ability to make their sound move, and to make it fun. They seemed pretty serious about what they were doing, but loosened up as they went on, and sure enough, it was a party.
REZN
I’ve written a fair amount about Chicago’s REZN, and as soon as I hammer out the liner notes for their upcoming PostWax collaboration with Vinnum Sabbathi from Mexico I’ll have written more, but I don’t think I ever really got it until seeing them play. They hit the Chapel stage with little to no ceremony and set about unfolding a droney, psychedelic reach that felt like it was going for miles — kilometers, if you’d rather. Peppered with sac and synth, further distinguished by soft-delivered soulful vocals that brought an entirely serene spirit to even the heaviest moments, they were powerful in the sense of making air move from and around amps, but there’s just so much to hear in their sound. Sometimes it’s Dead Meadow offset by Chicagoan post-metallic crunch, and sometimes it’s the bounce and melodymaking of Mars Red Sky with synth filling out what might otherwise be empty spaces in the sound, but any angle you want to take, their set was gorgeous and I feel like I better appreciate what they do having witnessed it in person; a clarification of who they are on record and a singular impression on the day. I went up and watched from the balcony and as they mood-drenched the whole church. Preach, dudes. They just announced a new record, too. I won’t say I wasn’t looking forward to it before, but only more so now.
MoE
They were awesome. Signed to the fest-associated Vinter Records label — see also Norna tomorrow — MoE, just to be clear, have nothing to do with the US jam band of the same name. They’re homegrown Norwegian, and with killer art-rock-via-Melvins-crunch, they were indeed a wondrous abomination to behold. The room was packed well in advance of their start. Between the push — all these humans — and the fact that if I hung out there much longer I was going to topple over the stage monitor, which would help nothing, I backed out quick and with not much mercy or apology. I guess you get to a certain point in the evening and there you go. I sort of hobbled to the back and stayed there for a while, the dual-vocal all-onslaught lumbering like a reminder that, yes, Indian were soon enough to go on upstairs. Another stark shift in style to suit the theme of the day of Høstsabbat gleefully refusing to only be one thing. MoE actually made the point pretty well, since they too were unhindered by whatever self-imposed rules might’ve otherwise held them back. Oh, and also? They were fucking loud. Don’t mistake me — everyone’s been loud. Needlepoint were loud. This was another kind of loud though. Your-earplugs-mean-nothing loud. Brutal without the death. Today was Bandcamp Friday. Next one I know where to put some money.
Indian
There are very few bands who are able to sound so specifically violent. Never mind the fact that they seem not so much to play their songs as to punch them, the scathing guitar noise, visceral screams and each and every crash-and-kick-drum combo hit all feel more like punishment than just about anyone else I can think of in any genre. They’re an emdgame for this thing that they do. There could not be anyone more extreme without it losing something from one side or another. Playing under plain white light that they demanded be brighter before starting, the Chicago four-piece set immediately about physically punishing the crowd and themselves alike with their music, an act of apparently empty catharsis otherwise surely they would’ve stopped by now. They are a tonal force, but it’s not even that, or the feedback, or the screaming or the floor took echoing through the church hall like it’s beating out a march to slaughter, it’s the way in which all of it bus so overwhelming as to trigger this fight or flight panic, like you either need to protect yourself from it or get the fuck out. I’ve seen a lot of bands. A stupid number; I couldn’t even guess. But Indian are their own nightmare. There’s blood and sharp things and I think someone’s crying somewhere? You’ll remember it when you wake up. An infliction of a band and more. Fuck it. None nastier.
