A new album from the collaborative trio of drummer Billy “Love” Forsberg, modular and keyboard synthesist Scott “Dr. Space” Heller and sitarist, bassist, guitarist, Mellotronist, synthesist (he’s also got some Fender Rhodes in there somewhere, reportedly) KG Westman doesn’t come along every year. The three-piece who, suitably enough, dub themselves West, Space & Love made their self-titled debut (review here, discussed here) in 2012 and followed up with a second installment, 2016’s Vol. II (review here), reaffirming their instrumentalist modus and exploratory mindset. An unexpected project in the first place, III (also stylized as Vol. 3; I think they’re pretty open about it) represents their second unexpected return and clearest manifestation to-date. With Heller‘s Øresund Space Collective bandmate Hasse Horrigmoe as the fourth in the trio contributing to the five-track/38-minute outing on bass and percussion, Westman (ex-Siena Root and a classical solo sitarist) and Forsberg (Siena Root; he also did the artwork) traveled to Heller‘s studio in Central Portugal to record, and the three have never come across as so solidified in terms of their collective approach. I suppose that’ll happen the more you get together to do a thing. At least ideally.

Either way, a mix by Westman that plays up a Western strut in the nonetheless-sitar-driven “One Step Ahead” (6:08) at III‘s outset, with a flow that turns out not to be nearly the most languid on the record but that still feels metered and purposeful in the room it leaves for lead lines of sitar and, ultimately, electric guitar, over the steady flowing groove and wash of synth. West, Space & Love have never been entirely adherent to longform structures, and they’ve never shied away from them either. III feels intentional in its single-LP presentation, with “One Step Ahead” leading the way into the sitar dreamscape “Mouth of Sand” (6:17), the there’s-that-Rhodes centerpiece “Time Expansion” (7:12) comprising side A and side B dedicated to the penultimate “Lost Hippie in Africa” (3:21) and the extended finale “Explaining Relativity” (15:40), and as one might expect with various Hammonds and Mellotrons coming and going, percussive shakers, congas, a cuica, and so on, there’s plenty of variety in terms of mood and arrangement throughout, but the central vibe is welcoming and encompassing.

That atmosphere is prioritized over structure should probably go without saying. This is the third West, Space & Love LP and all the three of them are known quantities due to their various ongoing projects, apparently including this one, so if you’re coming into III with expectations, fair enough. The album will meet them head-on with the casual swagger of “One Step Ahead” and the sitar-in-synth-wind spaciousness of “Mouth of Sand,” and by the time those two are over, if those expectations haven’t already evaporated in a hot summer’s sun, they’re surely on their way there. The sweetness and fluidity of the melodies, the absolute command of Westman on the sitar and the depth of Forsberg‘s percussion work tying it to Heller‘s synth assure the impression is complete, and it’s less of a world — that is, where another outfit might dive into some kind of conceptual theme to unite disparate musical ideas, either before, during or after the writing process — than a point of view.

It’s a specific kind of chill, a specific kind of flow, taking the (admittedly) appropriated influence from Indian classical music has had on psychedelic rock since the 1960s and melding it with flowing, not-unheavy-but-never-overblown jams. The material is executed with class and grit alike. It’s not afraid to dig into a groove and get dirty kicking up dust in “Lost Hippie in Africa,” but that only comes after the more subdued and contemplative “Time Expansion,” which feels emotional with a slower tempo and Mellotron and Rhodes wistfully backing Westman‘s lead sitar, playing a transposed-blues as it heads toward and into its fadeout. They dig into sci-fi-ier sounds on “Explaining Relativity,” and if they were the kind of band who put out a record every year, one might be curious to hear them bring krautrock to the junction where it became New Wave, all while remaining based on sitar, though I admit that isn’t necessarily the likeliest trajectory.

Listening to III, though, there is purpose behind these songs. The production smooths out some of the sharper waveforms of Vol. II and highlights the kick drum anchoring “One Step Ahead” than the standalone cosmic synthesizer in the first few minutes of “Explaining Relativity,” which comes to underscore the flow that’s been there the whole time while finding its own path in terms of textures and the careful weaving of its elements. By ending in such a way, West, Space & Love finish their third and most vivid declaration of their project with a reminder of what’s still out there — the unknown — waiting to be explored, conveyed, manifested in the hypnotic reach of their craft. I can’t sit here and say III will hit for everyone who takes it on, but that’s not the nature of the work.

This isn’t music for immediacy. The record might be short, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t going to take its time. It doesn’t try to land a chorus — though I’d argue the sitar has hooks to offer, mostly in “One Step Ahead,” which is probably why it’s opening, but elsewhere too — and it’s not trying to beat you over the head with heaviness or anything else. It is molten and patient and, three albums deep, and West, Space & Love understand that the pattern of a flow doesn’t necessarily have to be interrupted by changes brought to it in terms of pace, instrumentation or mood. It’s by no means the only idea being conveyed, but III presents a vision of West, Space & Love as an outfit who realize they’ve become a band — even a sometimes-band studio project — almost without meaning to, but are able to revel in the chemistry and the approach they’ve built up to this point.

They may not have the element of surprise on their side anymore — though III might certainly be a given listener’s first exposure to them, and if so, that’s well-timed — but what’s come in trade from West, Space and Love is a richer awareness of themselves and their place in their own music. I won’t speculate on their future, because everyone here is plenty busy otherwise and it’s even harder when it’s upwards of eight years between records, but III sounds like a progression underway. They’ve never left off a release without instilling a sense of hope. That streak continues here.

West, Space & Love, III (2024)

West, Space & Love on Bandcamp

West, Space & Love on Soundcloud

Space Rock Productions website

Space Rock Productions on Facebook

Las Vegas instrumentalists Sonolith self-release their mostly-self-recorded new LP, III, tomorrow, Oct. 4. It is the third release from the sans-vocal outfit, and somewhat counterintuitive to the title, their second full-length behind 2019’s Fire Thunder Wanderlust, but it follows behind 2021’s Voidscapes EP (review here) and is the first offering from the four-piece incarnation of the band, comprised of guitarists Alex Lidey and Ben Dubler, bassist Adam Sage and drummer Ian Henneforth.

Fleshed out atmospherically through a series of three short mood-setting pieces, the first of which is the album intro “Sine Misericordia,” the album gets fairly dark and metal-adjacent by the time they’re doing the guitar-as-keyboard (unless that’s just a keyboard; could be) in “Divide et Impera” or nailing that slowdown in closer “Dweller on the Threshold” before a final sample rounds out, but by and large it is a celebration of heavy dynamics and methods, full in the knowledge of from whence it comes and executed without pretense in homage to heavy ideology itself. Unless a given listener for some reason has a predisposition against songs without vocals, Sonolith make it easy to get on board.

Of course, Karma to Burn are a touchstone for the niche Sonolith occupy, but the mood and purported storyline across III is darker than the West Virginian forebears ever were and the evocations of titles like “Under the Torturer’s Attention” and “To Brave the Desert of Despair” distinguish Sonolith even from where they were three years ago. Picking up from “Sine Misericordia,” “Under the Torturer’s Attention” has a doomier lumber as it unfolds, and as the interlude “Effugium” follows, a background drone and some noise wrought over a sub-20-second break, it aids in the shift into “Midnight Flight,” which is both faster and reveals something of a heavy desert gothism, a surprisingly fun bounce emerging in the bassline as it follows the relatively careening guitar line into the song’s midsection. “Midnight Flight” becomes the entry point to a stretch of four cuts that does a lot to craft the personality of III as a whole.

That’s a succession which, on vinyl, is likely split between album-centerpiece “To Brave the Desert of Despair” and the seven-minute “Legion,” which is the longest inclusion of the bunch. Both establish a foreboding rumble early and build off that, each in its own direction, with the former upping the tempo late and the latter shifting after four minutes in to a stop and rebuild around a stark figure of guitar that’s smoothly brought to a full, all-in nod that’s eventually brought around to the progression from the first half — one hesitates to call these parts verses and choruses, but Sonolith are by no means hookless — to give a sense of completion and make “Legion” a highlight before giving over to the aforementioned “Divide et Impera,” which is more upbeat, sure, but still plenty grim to suit the LP’s narrative.

The story — one of escaping a torturer and finding actual and metaphorical liberation; an analog perhaps for being able to get away from the cruel voices in one’s own head — is telegraphed in the sense of movement throughout the tracks, with the names of the songs intermittently laying out the time and place, whether it’s “Midnight Flight” or closer “Dweller on the Threshold.” The finale follows the creaking-ship penultimate interlude “Seas of Fate,” and is by no means hopeless in mood, but neither does it resound or shimmer in a way that would undercut the brooding of the songs before it. If the character formerly in the grip of this obscure torment has managed to get away, there’s pretty clearly some processing to do in the aftermath of that escape. Off to therapy, then.

How much one does or doesn’t engage with III on a narrative level will ultimately be up to the person hearing it, but even at a more superficial level of engagement — that is, if you listen without following the progression of story to the final bit of dialog that follows “Dweller on the Threshold” as an ending — the songs hold up, expanding on what Sonolith were doing on the spacier Voidscapes and finding new, more individualized expression. Growth in craft as well as lineup. It’s still self-produced, so don’t expect any grandiose largesse in terms of sound, but there’s something appropriate to the plot in the band’s ability to create a claustrophobic feel, and that encourages appreciating III for the depth of purpose brought to it through the arrangements within and between the songs.

The album streams in its entirety below, followed by more background, courtesy of the PR wire.

Please enjoy:

Wizards of riffage cruising the stars in search of the heaviest groove in the universe, Sonolith return from their sojourn to the dark edges of space to deliver their new full-length, “III”.

IN THE BAND’S OWN WORDS:

“Sonolith’s third release was envisioned and summoned into being over the course of two years, burning the candle from both ends while working day jobs, performing live shows, writing, and recording. Sonolith became a four piece with the addition of our second guitarist, allowing for live performance of the densely layered, cinematic, and kinetic instrumental compositions that the band’s come to be known for. ‘III’ tells a story in sound and symbolism of a fraught journey undertaken to escape the persecution of a psychotic tormentor, through the high peaks and low troughs, towards eventually obtaining freedom and spiritual emancipation.”

Tracklist:
1. Sine Misericordia (0:41)
2. Under The Torturer’s Attention (5:33)
3. Effugium (0:18)
4. Midnight Flight (3:36)
5. To Brave the Desert of Despair (6:48)
6. Legion (7:25)
7. Divide Et Impera (5:18)
8. Seas of Fate (0:31)
9. Dweller on the Threshold (6:31)

Written, performed, recorded, and produced by Sonolith at Sonolith Sound Studios in Las Vegas, NV. Drums recorded by Cody Leavitt at Asteroid M Records. Mixed and mastered by Adam Sage & Sonolith. We would like to sincerely thank all of the fans, friends, and family that have supported Sonolith over the years. You know who you are, we know who you are.

Sonolith is:
Ian Henneforth: Drums
Adam Sage: Bass/Sound Engineering
Alex Lidey: Rhythm & Lead Guitars/Artwork/Video
Ben Dubler: Lead & Rhythm Guitars

Sonolith, “To Brave the Desert of Despair” official video

Sonolith on Facebook

Sonolith on Instagram

Sonolith on Spotify

Sonolith on Bandcamp

Vegas instrumentalists Sonolith will issue their new album, III, on Oct. 4. The band tell the tale below, and I won’t keep you from that, except perhaps to say that the list of hey-we’ve-played-with-these-bands bands below sort of illustrates the range of sound Sonolith manage to conjure. Last heard from in terms of studio work with 2021’s Voidscapes EP (review here), the dual-guitar outfit don’t have any audio out from the self-releasing new record yet, but their 2022 live outing, Live at Asteroid M, can be found below, courtesy of their Bandcamp. They also featured at Planet Desert Rock Weekend IV in their hometown this past January.

Info came from the PR wire:

Sonolith – Album “III” out Oct 4

Instrumental, heavy metal stoner doom from Las Vegas

Self-released (Vinyl, Digital)

Wizards of riffage cruising the stars in search of the heaviest groove in the universe, Sonolith return from their sojourn to the dark edges of space to deliver their new full-length, “III”.

IN THE BAND’S OWN WORDS:

“Sonolith is known as one of Las Vegas’s go-to live acts for massive riffs, heavy drums, and crowd-pleasing grooves. We have had the privilege to share the stage with bands such as The Obsessed, Truckfighters, 1000mods, Spaceslug, Nebula, Freedom Hawk, Borracho, Mos Generator, Sasquatch, Mothership, Lord Dying, and many more.”

“Upon its release on 9/15/21, the new EP ‘Voidscapes’ earned no. 24 on the September 2021 Doom Charts. We seek to repeat that feat with the release of our latest self-recorded and produced LP titled ‘III’, and we hope you enjoy listening as much as we enjoyed making this album.”

“Sonolith’s third release was envisioned and summoned into being over the course of two years, burning the candle from both ends while working day jobs, performing live shows, writing, and recording. Sonolith became a four piece with the addition of our second guitarist, allowing for live performance of the densely layered, cinematic, and kinetic instrumental compositions that the band’s come to be known for. ‘III’ tells a story in sound and symbolism of a fraught journey undertaken to escape the persecution of a psychotic tormentor, through the high peaks and low troughs, towards eventually obtaining freedom and spiritual emancipation.”

Tracklist:
1. Sine Misericordia (0:41)
2. Under The Torturer’s Attention (5:33)
3. Effugium (0:18)
4. Midnight Flight (3:36)
5. To Brave the Desert of Despair (6:48)
6. Legion (7:25)
7. Divide Et Impera (5:18)
8. Seas of Fate (0:31)
9. Dweller on the Threshold (6:31)

Sonolith is:
Alex Lidey – Guitars
Ben Dubler – Guitars
Adam Sage – Bass
Ian Henneforth – Drums

https://www.facebook.com/Sonolith/
https://www.instagram.com/sonolith/
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3GPnJJRTBfasSPQn38EG7z
https://sonolith.bandcamp.com/

Sonolith, Live at Asteroid M (2022)

Alright, back at it. Putting together yesterday over the weekend was more scattershot than I’d prefer, but one might say the same of parenting in general, so I’ll leave it at that. Still, as happens with Quarterly Reviews, we got there. That my wife gave me an extra 40 minutes to bang out the Wizzerd video premiere was appreciated. As always, she makes everything possible.

Compared to some QRs, there are a few ‘bigger’ releases here. You’ll note High on Fire leading off today. That trend will continue over this and next week with the likes of Pallbearer, Uncle Acid, Bongripper, Harvestman (Steve Von Till, ex-Neurosis), Inter Arma, Saturnalia Temple spread throughout. The Pelican two-songer and My Dying Bride back to back a week from today. That’ll be a fun one. As always, it’s about the time crunch for me for what goes in the Quarterly Review. Things I want to cover before it’s too late that I can fit here. Ain’t nobody holding their breath for my opinion on any of it, or on anything generally for that matter, but I’m not trying to slight well known bands by stuffing them into what when it started over a decade ago I thought would be a catchall for demos and EPs. Sometimes I like the challenge of a shorter word count, too.

And I remind myself here again nobody really cares. Fine, let’s go.

Quarterly Review #11-20:

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High on Fire, Cometh the Storm

What seems at first to be business as usual for High on Fire‘s fourth album produced by Kurt Ballou, fifth for MNRK Heavy (formerly E1), and ninth overall, gradually reveals itself to be the band’s tonally heaviest work in at least the last 15 years. What’s actually new is drummer Coady Willis (Big Business, Melvins) making his first studio appearance alongside founding guitarist/vocalist Matt Pike (Sleep, Pike vs. the Automaton) and long-tenured bassist/backing vocalist Jeff Matz (also saz on the instrumental interlude-plus “Karanlik Yol”), and for sure Willis‘ thud in “Trismegistus,” galloping intensity in the thrashy and angular “The Beating” and declarative stomp beneath the big slowdown of 10-minute closer “Darker Fleece” is part of it, but from the way Pike and Matz bring “Cometh the Storm’ and “Sol’s Golden Curse” in the record’s middle to such cacophonous ends, the three-and-a-half-minute face-kick that is “Lightning Beard” and the suckerpunch that starts off with “Lambsbread,” to how even the more vocally melodic “Hunting Shadows” is carried on a wave of filthy, hard-landing distortion, their ferocity is reaffirmed in thicker grooves and unmitigated pummel. While in some ways this is what one would expect, it’s also everything for which one might hope from High on Fire a quarter-century on from their first demo. Triumph.

High on Fire on Facebook

MNRK Heavy website

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Spaceslug, Out of Water

A release concurrent to a remastered edition of their 2016 debut, Lemanis (review here), only puts into emphasis how much Spaceslug have come into their own over eight productive years. Recorded by drummer/vocalist Kamil Ziółkowski (also Mountain of Misery), with guitarist/vocalist Bartosz Janik and bassist/vocalist Jan Rutka dug into familiar tonal textures throughout five tracks and a quick but inevitably full-length-flowing 32 minutes, Out of Water is both otherworldly and emotionally evocative in the rollout of “Arise the Sun” following the intertwined shouts of opener “Tears of Antimatter,” and in keeping with their progression, they nudge toward metallic aggression as a way to solidify their heavy psychedelic aspects. “Out of Water” is duly mournful to encapsulate such a tragic notion, and the nod of “Delusions” only grows more forcefully applied after the return from that song’s atmospheric break, and while they depart with “In Serenity” to what feels like the escapism of sunnier riffing, even that becomes more urgent toward the album’s finish. The reason it works is they’re bending genre to their songs, not the other way around, and as Spaceslug mature as a group, they’ve become one of Poland’s most essential heavy acts.

Spaceslug on Facebook

Spaceslug on Bandcamp

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Lie Heavy, Burn to the Moon

First issued on CD through JM Records in 2023, Lie Heavy‘s debut album, Burn to the Moon, sees broader release through Heavy Psych Sounds with revamped art to complement the Raleigh, North Carolina, four-piece’s tonal heft and classic reach in pieces like “In the Shadow” and “The Long March,” respectively. The band is fronted by Karl Agell (vocalist for C.O.C.‘s 1991 Blind album and now also in The Skull-offshoot Legions of Doom), and across the 12-song/51-minute run, and whether it’s the crunch of the ripper “When the Universe Cries” or the Clutch-style heavy funk of “Chunkadelic” pushing further from the start-stops of “In the Shadow” or the layered crescendo of “Unbeliever” a short time later, he and bassist/vocalist TR Gwynne, guitarist/vocalist Graham Fry and drummer/vocalist Jeff “JD” Dennis deliver sans-pretense riff-led fare. They’re not trying to fix what wasn’t broken in the ’90s, to be sure, but you can’t really call it a retread either as they swing through “Drag the World” and its capstone counterpart “End the World”; it all goes back to Black Sabbath anyway. The converted will get it no problem.

Lie Heavy on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

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Burning Realm, Face the Fire

Dublin, Ireland, trio Burning Realm mark their first release with the four-song Face the Fire EP, taking the cosmic-tinged restlessness of Wild Rocket and setting it alongside more grounded riffing, hinting at thrash in the ping ride on “From Beyond” but careening in the modern mode either way. Lead cut “Homosapien” gives Hawkwindian vibes early — the trap, which is sounding like Slift, is largely avoided, though King Gizzard may still be relevant as an influence — but smoothly gives over to acoustics and vocal drone once its urgency has bene vaporized, and spacious as the vocal echo is, “Face the Fire” is classic stoner roll even into its speedier ending, the momentum of which is continued in closer “Warped One (Arise),” which is more charged on the whole in a way that feels linear and intended in relation to what’s put before it. A 16-minute self-released introduction to who Burning Realm are now, it holds promise for how they might develop stylistically and grow in terms of range. Whatever comes or doesn’t, it’s easy enough to dig as it is. If you were at a show and someone handed you the tape, you’d be stoked once you put it on in the car. Also it’s like 1995 in that scenario, apparently.

Burning Realm on Facebook

Burning Realm on Bandcamp

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Kalac, Odyss​é​e

Offered through an international consortium of record labels that includes Crême Brûlée Records in the band’s native France, Echodelick in the US, Clostridium in Germany and Weird Beard in the UK, French heavy psych thrusters Kalac‘s inaugural full-length, Odyss​é​e — also stylized all-caps — doesn’t leave much to wonder why so many imprints might want some for the distro. With a focus on rhythmic movement in the we-gotta-get-to-space-like-five-minutes-ago modus of current-day heavy neo-space-rock, the mostly instrumental procession hypnotizes even as it peppers its expanses with verses here or there. That might be most effectively wrought in the payoff noiseblaster wash of “II,” which I’m just going to assume opens side B, but the boogie quotient is strong from “Arguenon” to “Beautiful Night,” and while might ring familiar to others operating in the aesthetic galaxial quadrant, the energy of Kalac‘s delivery and the not-haphazard-but-not-always-in-the-same-spot-either placement of the vocals are enough to distinguish them and make the six-tracker as exciting to hear as it sounds like it probably was to record.

Kalac on Facebook

Crême Brûlée Records on Bandcamp

Clostridium Records store

Weird Beard Records store

Echodelick Records on Bandcamp

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Alkuräjähdys, Ehdot.

The live-tracked fourth outing from Helsinki psych improvisationalists Alkuräjähdys, the lowercase-stylized ehdot. blends mechanical and electronic sounds with more organic psychedelic jamming, the synth and bassier punchthrough in the midsection of opening piece “.matriisi” indeed evocative of the dot-matrix printer to which its title is in reference, while “központ,” which follows, meanders into a broader swath of guitar-based noise atop a languidly graceful roll of drums. That let’s-try-it-slower ideology is manifest in the first half of the duly two-sided “a-b” as well, as the 12-minute finale begins by lurching through the denser distortion of a central riff en route to a skronk-jazz transition to a tighter midtempo groove that I’ll compare to Endless Boogie and very much intend that as a compliment. I don’t think they’re out to change the world so much as get in a room, hit it and see where the whole thing ends up, but those are noble creative aims in concept and practice, and between the two guitars, effects, synth and whathaveyou, there’s plenty of weird to go around.

Alkuräjähdys on Instagram

Alkuräjähdys on Bandcamp

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Magick Brother & Mystic Sister, Tarot Pt. 1

Already a significant undertaking as a 95-minute 2LP running 11 tracks themed — as the title(s) would hint — around tarot cards, the mostly serene sprawl of Magick Brother & Mystic Sister‘s Tarot Pt. 1 is still just the first of two companion albums to be issued as the follow-up to the Barcelona outfit’s 2020 self-titled debut (discussed here). Offered through respected Greek purveyor Sound Effect Records, Tarot Pt. 1 gives breadth beyond just the runtime in the sitar-laced psych-funk of “The Hierophant” (swap sitar for organ, synth and flute on “The Chariot”) and the classic-prog pastoralia of closer “The Wheel of Fortune,” and as with the plague-era debut, at the heart of the material is a soothing acid folk, and while the keys in the first half of “The Emperor” grow insistent and there’s some foreboding in the early Mellotron and key lines of “The Lovers,” Tarot Pt. 1 resonates comfort and care in its arrangements as well as ambition in its scope. Maybe another hour and a half on the way? Sign me up.

Magick Brother & Mystic Sister on Facebook

Sound Effect Records store

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Amigo, Good Time Island

The eight-year distance from their 2016 debut long-player, Little Cliffs, seems to have smoothed out some (not all, which isn’t a complaint) of the rough edges in Amigo‘s sound, as the seemingly reinvigorated San Diego four-piece of lead guitarist/vocalist Jeff Podeszwik (King Chiefs), guitarist Anthony Mattos, bassist Sufi Karalen and drummer Anthony Alley offer five song across an accessible, straightforward 17 minutes united beneath the fair-enough title of Good Time Island. Without losing the weight of their tones, a Weezery pop sensibility comes through in “Dope Den” while “Frog Face” is even more specifically indebted to The Cars. Neither “Telescope Boy” nor “Banana Phone” lacks punch, but Amigo hold some in reserve for “Me and Soof,” which rounds out the proceedings, and they put it to solid use for an approach that’s ’90s-informed without that necessarily meaning stoner, grunge or alt, and envision a commercially relevant, songwriting-based heavy rock and roll for an alternate universe that, by all accounts here, sounds like a decent place to be.

Amigo on Facebook

Roosevelt Row Records store

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The Hazytones, Wild Fever

Culminating in the Sabbathian shuffle of “Eye for an Eye,” Wild Fever is the hook-drenched third full-length from Montreal fuzzbringers The Hazytones, and while they’ve still got the ‘tones’ part down pat, it’s easy to argue the eight included tracks are the least ‘hazy’ they’ve been to-date. Following on from the direction of 2018’s II: Monarchs of Oblivion (review here), the Esben Willems-mixed/Kent Stump-mastered 40-minute long-player isn’t shy about leaning into the grittier side of what they do as the opening title-track rolls out a chorus that reminds of C.O.C. circa In the Arms of God while retaining some of the melody between the vocals of Mick Martel (also guitar and keys) and Gabriel Prieur (also drums and bass), and with the correspondingly thick bass of Caleb Sanders for accompaniment and lead guitarist John Choffel‘s solo rising out of the murk on “Disease,” honing in on the brashness suits them well. Not where one might have expected them to end up six years later, but no less enjoyable for that, either.

The Hazytones on Facebook

Black Throne Productions store

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All Are to Return, III

God damn that’s harsh. Mostly anonymous industrialists — you get F and N for names and that’s it — All Are to Return are all the more punishing in the horrific recesses and engulfing blasts of static that populate III than they were in 2022’s II (review here), and the fact that the eight-songer is only 32 minutes long is about as close as they come to any concept of mercy for the psyche of their audience. Beyond that, “Moratorium,” “Colony Collapse,” the eats-you-dead “Archive of the Sky” and even the droning “Legacy” cast a willfully wretched extremity, and what might be a humanizing presence of vocals elsewhere is screams channeled through so much distortion as to be barely recognizable as coming from a human throat here. If the question being posed is, “how much can you take?,” the answer for most of those brave enough to even give III a shot will be, “markedly less than this.” A cry from the depths realizing a brutal vision.

All Are to Return on Bandcamp

Tartarus Records store

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Cancervo will release their new album, III, this Friday, March 29, through Electric Valley Records (US distro through Glory or Death Records). And it’s by far the darkest, bleakest affair the first-names-only Lombardy, Italy, three-piece of bassist/vocalist Luka, guitarist Francesco and drummer Sam have yet manifest, as an ongoing incremental evolution of their take on cult doom over the last three years has seen them grow from the instrumentalist beginnings of 2021’s I (review here) and Luka‘s emergent metal-of-eld declarations across most of early-2023’s II (review here) to the 32 minutes and five tracks — four plus the sans-vocals church organ mood-setter “Intro” — of III, each numerical outing presenting a deeper plunge into their lurching and abyssal nod.

And III goes fairly deep into its own inky atmosphere, even before “Burn Your Child” wraps side A with its repetitions of “Burn your child/Burn your child,” with the band having already underscored their malevolence as the organ “Intro” gave over to the riff-forward march of “Sacrilegious Mass,” which in its sub-six minutes quickly establishes the vocals not only as an element of the band’s sound of increasing prominence, but as a defining feature. Luka, working in a low register not-quite-monotone that speaks to influences far and wide while carrying a distinctly Celtic Frostian poise, follows the pattern of the riff in the song’s midsection hook, letting the listener know “You’re gonna suffer” as a central line that feels by the time it comes around again like he’s as much in the trance as he is a part of making it. Meanwhile, Sam‘s drums keep a steady swing beneath a noisy ripper of a solo from Francesco, filled out in the bottom end by Luka‘s bass. The difference is confidence.

I wouldn’t call II or even I tentative in their approach, but what the band has wanted to accomplish has grown along with their sound, and in “Burn Your Child,” “St. Barnabas” and “Red Pig” — two near-eight-minute tracks bookending the nine-minute “St. Barnabas” — their ambitions resonate in kind with the drear, reaching into more extreme fare for a d-beat stretch in “Burn Your Child” that admirably holds to the same riff that led into it before going back to the second of three choruses, the last of which swaps “wife” for “child” in the lyrics and leads to another furious solo and speedy drum breakout to finish. Momentum on their side, the trio feel willful in the contrasting quiet open to “St. Barnabas,” which builds up around the guitar over its first minute before ultimately slamming into its grueling procession. As noted below, Cancervo take their lyrical inspiration from regional folklore, and while the connection between a saint who lived in Cyprus isn’t immediate, in nearby Milan, there’s a sect called the Barnabites that was founded in the 1500s, so yeah, it fits, and yeah, I had to look all that up. You’re welcome.

“St. Barnabas” lumbers to its close and brings about the final immersion of “Red Pig,” with a looser-feeling chant and a resumption of the overarching nod that has been at the core all along and remains even as the finale shifts after three-plus minutes into more ambient sounds, either actual bells or evocations thereof soon enough transitioning back into the riff as Cancervo drop hints as to where their continued explorations of style and craft might lead without giving up the for-the-converted worship of slow-delivered distortion until the solo builds on “Sacrilegious Mass” and “Burn Your Child” and “St. Barnabas” with a more brazen overall freakout. But that they know who they are is never in doubt across III, and sure enough, “Red Pig” turns back to a few measures of riff to end, the message of structural priority consistent and welcome.

Because of the thread of progression across their work thus far, I’m not at all willing to say Cancervo are done growing or that they’ve realized everything they could ever hope to do musically here. They follow patterns well, and that helps give III a defined shape where much cult-leaning doom feels content to disappear in its own murk, and it’s easy to imagine that intention as a way for them to keep pushing themselves as songwriters and performers. As it stands, III comes across as sure of what it wants to be and casts Cancervo as increasingly individual within their genre, finding their niche and taking it as far into the depths as they can go, candles lit for thanatos behind them. Until they next arise, then.

PR wire background follows the full stream of III on the player below.

Please enjoy:

Cancervo, III album premiere

Cancervo derive their name from an iconic mountain near Bergamo, Italy, nestled in a valley steeped in rich traditions and folklore. Charmed by the tale of a mythical creature, part dog and part deer, that roamed on Cancervo, three local heavy riff enthusiasts from San Giovanni Bianco formed the band as a homage to their cherished valley and its mystical legends.

Their 2021 debut, simply titled I, represents local places and myths. A complete instrumental outing, the album dabbles in sedating psych, deserted stoner/doom, and preternatural prog.

II, the sophomore album, released in 2023, continues Cancervo’s occult narratives of their land. In search of doom roots, the album takes more and more motivating forces from the early ’70s and passably abandons the psych moments of the first album. Unlike the first full-length, I, which was entirely instrumental, this record incorporates vocals on most tracks.

The forthcoming full-length, III, heralds a darker and more introspective phase for the band. Each track on the last album evolved from concert to concert, paving the way for this transformative phase. A distinct vocal presence emerges as the guiding force, alongside the inevitable and recognizable doomy riffs that have always been the trio’s trademark. This tale promises to immerse listeners in the timeless struggle between the sacred and the profane — a theme deeply ingrained in the folklore of the valley beneath the shadow of Mount Cancervo.

Track Listing:
1. Intro (1:52)
2. Sacrilegious Mass (5:50)
3. Burn Your Child (7:52)
4. St. Barnabas (9:02)
5. The Red Pig (7:55)

Album Credits:
All songs written and played by Cancervo. (“Intro” written and played by Fido)
Recorded, mixed and mastered by Alessandro “Otto” Galli at the Otto Engineering Mobile Studio 2029.
Band Photo by Christian Riva.
Graphics by EVR Studio.

Band Lineup:
Luka – Bass & Vocals
Francesco – Guitars
Sam – Drums

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Electric Valley Records website

Electric Valley Records on Facebook

Electric Valley Records on Instagram

Electric Valley Records on Bandcamp

Well, the last couple years don’t seem to have made All Are to Return any less caustic. Fair enough. The still-mostly-anonymous-I-think industrial doom two-piece based in the Netherlands were last heard from with their 2022 single “A State in Fear,” and April 26 will mark the arrival of III, which they’ll issue through Tartarus Records in an edition of 50 tapes at a release show that’s also a label showcase about which you can read more below. The first aural peek at III, which of course follows late-2021’s II (review here), arrives in the form of “Drift,” which just might be the harshest three minutes you spend today. At least I’d hope so.

In “Drift,” even the backing drones that spread out through the atmospheres of All Are to Return‘s software-led churn feel nastier, and the way some of the vocals are obscured speaks to the band working with an ideology toward a three-dimensional mix. The rest of III bears that out like an existential burden, and as relates to its surroundings, “Drift” turns out to be one of the more accessible tracks on the record. For example, it’s got a beat, even if that beat is blown out and being used to collapse your rib cage.

Album’s out April 26, as per the PR wire:

All Are To Return announce new album AATR III // Single premiere

All Are To Return Single Premiere ‘Drift’

The ecological dark of our existence is pulsating with the presence of loss. Shifts occur on the periphery of awareness. Fundamental ruptures only inferred from apparent disappearance. Something felt before it is known. From here on, there are no stones that mark the path. -AATR

The two-man formation All Are To Return presents extreme, experimental music with an urgent sense of dread. The duo’s new album III will be released on April 26 via Tartarus Records.

We have entered a new age of extinction – of poisoned lands, habitat destruction and encompassing climate catastrophe. AATR III reflects the harshness of life laid bare to the vagaries of capital, of uncaring generations heaping misery on their successors and the life-forms with which they share a fragile biosphere.

The album’s unmitigated brutality of sound and expression are mediation of these concurrent events. Colossal noise-scapes are shaped with pulsing synth patterns, shredding percussion and vocals that are screams from the void. As a whole, the many-layered compositions carry massive assaults on the senses and a rage unhuman.

Manmade disasters borne from decades of unfettered greed, of carbon capital plundering the earth and choking its habitants – capital unleashed through self-interested short-sightedness, decades of corruption and denial of clear fact.

Our habitats swallowed by rising seas, engulfed in flames. As we drown, burn, or slowly parch and wither, we remember. Oceans heat and corals die as pale sludge in bright blue waters – thousands of years of unfathomable complexity undone in decades. Forests burn and ancient trees that were young when the pharaohs build their monuments perish in the flames. Poisons have spread through all ecosystems. The product of profit-maximizing agriculture at war with life. As insects disappear they signal extinction on a massive scale.

What is lost, is lost forever.

We will remember you through your shattered bones, your battered skulls turned fossil. We will remember you through your plastic deposits, your carbon waste, your radio-active poisons still leaking into our bodies. We will remember your bright and brief existence – and the inevitability of your demise.

Pressing info: 50x Cassettes

AATR III drops April 26th during their debut performance at the Tartarus showcase at Vera, Groningen in the Netherlands with label friends Ultha, Oud Zeer (Throwing Bricks & Ontaard), and Ortega. Event & Tickets: https://www.vera-groningen.nl/events/tartarus-records-presents-2024/

All Are To Return is:
F: Bass, Drums, Guitars, Vocals, FXs
N: Synths, FXs

https://allaretoreturn.bandcamp.com
https://soundcloud.com/allaretoreturn
https://allaretoreturn.tumblr.com/

https://www.facebook.com/TartarusRecords
https://www.instagram.com/tartarustapes
https://tartarusrecords.com

All Are to Return, “Drift”

All Are to Return, “A State in Fear” (2022)

First, slow down.

I’ll spare you the diatribe about how fast life moves these days because you already know. My advice, coming from a place of friendship, is before you dig into the video premiering below, do whatever you gotta do to inject a little calm into the moment. Deep breathing is a decent go-to. I often pause to take a drink of water if I’m feeling tense, frustrated, or just need to reset my brainvoice a little bit. If you want to step out and do a j, you can keep reading on your phone. But take a second to adjust the headspace before “Hunted” starts and I think you’ll be in a better position to appreciate it. Again, friendly advice.

Baltimorean folk-infused heavy psychedelic explorers Holy Fingers released their third album, titled Holy Fingers III — or maybe just III (review here) if you’re feeling casual — in the earliest, still-solstice-dark hours of 2024. It was the first review I did this year, and that was very much on purpose. After an algorithmic fluke on a now-subsumed social media platform put their stuff in front of my face — what used to be called a ‘chance encounter’ — I had spent some stay-indoors time circa 2021 with their second record, II (discussed here) and last April, in getting to see them live for the first and hopefully not last time, it confirmed in my head the anticipation for what would come next. Sure enough, III righteously finds connections between post-rock, heavy bluesy psych, folk pastoralism and command, and a progressive songwriting mindset. In atmosphere and hooks, vibe and structure, it delivers. I waited months to review it, but knew it was how I wanted to launch the New Year last month.

It’s not where the hype is at, I’m kind of sorry to say, but as it sometimes goes with that kind of thing, the ears with which it resonates will perhaps feel it more deeply for that as something to be treasured. If you haven’t heard it yet — and if not, that’s cool; it’s been out for a month, not three years; don’t let the internet make you feel like you’re behind on a thing — the full Bandcamp stream is included below so you can get a sense of how “Hunted” fits on the album. Following the fuzzy roll of “Blood Red Sun” and the open-strum and rhythmic sway of “Bring Me the Beasts” on side A, its throbbing groove is particularly tense, bringing the reverbed breadth of Ides of Gemini-style post-heavy to bear in deceptively forceful repetitions of the title in its chorus. Consistent in ambience and general sound, it follows its own path, and is a standout highlight instead of an awkward fit.

Holy Fingers III is the band’s second album in their current configuration and the places it explores speak to subconscious familiarity, something primal but not necessarily in an aggressive way. I could go on here, but I’d rather not keep you from the clip itself if you’re still reading. “Hunted” uses practical effects by Josh James of Rainbow Death Cult to create a visually atmospheric complement to the song. It is not AI — since that apparently needs to be said this week — and like the track itself, it shows its humanity in its intricacies and finer details while reaching into the abstract, or ethereal, if you prefer, for expression. This won’t hit with everyone, but it is my sincere hope that someone reading this loves it, and maybe that’s you.

Did you slow down? Good, because they’re gonna build back up a bit. Here goes:

Holy Fingers, “Hunted” video premiere

Hunted from Holy Fingers III available now on all streaming platforms. Vinyl preorders at holyfingers.bandcamp.com.

Video by Josh James | Rainbow Death Cult

‘III’ Recorded and mixed by Kevin Bernsten at Developing Nations Recording Studio, Baltimore, MD
www.instagram.com/developing_nations/

Mastered by Brian McTernan at Salad Days Studio
www.instagram.com/saladdaysstudio/

Holy Fingers are Tracey Buchanan, Dave Cannon, Theron Melchior and Josh Weiss.

Holy Fingers, Holy Fingers III (2024)

Holy Fingers on Facebook

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Holy Fingers on Bandcamp

Folk-informed heavy psychedelic blues rockers Holy Fingers are among the best kept secrets in the Baltimorean underground, and their third full-length, the self-released III, is a moment of realization that’s due more fanfare than it is likely to receive. They arrive its Jan. 1, 2024, release date at eight years’ remove from their 2016 self-titled debut, released as the instrumentalist trio of Dave Cannon, Theron Melchior and Josh Weiss prior to guitarist/vocalist Tracey Buchanan joining ahead of 2018’s follow-up, Holy Fingers II (discussed here), and continues a thread of collaboration with producer Kevin Bernsten at Baltimore’s Developing Nations Recording Studio that began on the last record and was most definitely not broken there and as such requires no fixing across the eight-song/circa-40-minute Holy Fingers III, which finds the band pushing further into progressive textures and expanding the reach of their songwriting.

A fuzzy roll arrives just a second after Buchanan starts the first line of opening track “Blood Run Sun,” beginning right after, “You are my…” and before the title itself is delivered. Later pieces like “Astral Anchor” and its complement “Estival” will dig into vibes born of ’60s Britfolk and given semi-retroist heavy life in such malleable fashion as to remind of Graveyard in “Bring Me the Beasts” before the more urgent rhythm of “Hunted” casts that in the Americana-infused neofolk of Wovenhand and leads through the album’s side flip and into the soft shuffle of “Majnac” ahead of “In Warrior’s Stead” and “Hunter’s Moon,” which turn toward heavy post-rock expanse, building on the hints toward Black Math Horseman-style ceremony in “Hunted” and, in the latter, tying that in part to the more folkish side, tying together elements that have been spread throughout but not feeling forced in the doing.

In fact, let’s take that ethic, start it at the start and pull it over the rest of the album like a well-flattened top-sheet (you bedmakers know what I’m talking about): It is unforced. I do not know the circumstances that might’ve led to six years between Holy Fingers‘ second and third full-lengths, but I don’t imagine the band is anyone’s full-time, live-on-this gig, and life happens. Sometimes it happens that a band will turn around after a while and crunch a record together and rush it out to get on tour, etc. That’s not this. The songs on Holy Fingers III feel lived with and lived in. They’re not overthought, but they’ve been smoothly balanced to become what they are, and that worked-on feel extends to the linear fluidity that runs from front to back. Holy Fingers are grooving here as a paramount, and coinciding with that is the focus on melody mostly but not entirely represented in Buchanan‘s vocals.

That is to say, while Buchanan is a strong presence throughout, her voice isn’t the only source of melody. The bouncing slink of “Majnac” is all the more memorable for the way its notes move up and down, a cool born of jazz and turned into classic-style prog, and the lead guitar in “Hunter’s Moon” adds no less drama to the closer’s outward procession than the cave-echo treatment on the vocals. As they draw from different influences throughout and bring ideas together across various songs, the presentation is never quite the same twice and never so outlandish as to be out of place. A shorter cut can be intense as “Hunted” gets or languid like “Blood Red Sun” at the outset, its later jangle like proto-grunge noise played at half-speed with about a quarter of the directionless, would-be-silly-in-context aggression. Longer songs like “Astral Anchor” unfurl a complete build, and “In Warrior’s Stead” — the longest inclusion at 7:28 — accomplishes this while in conversation with the broader sphere of American heavy psychedelia, seeming specifically to work off of some of King Buffalo‘s make-a-world-and-put-a-riff-in-it ideology.

And in all of this, in the places it goes and the stylistic shifts and slight turns it makes along the way, Holy Fingers III is unflinchingly organic. Its pacing isn’t staid or too slow, but it works into a kind of steady nod and even when this is purposefully interrupted, as in the churning push at the end of “Bring Me the Beasts” or in “Majnac” — dig that line of fuzz running through the song; reminds a bit of something Lammping might try, as if my heart were not yet won here, and is indicative of both an intricacy of mix and the attention to detail that makes this all sound so easy in the first place — the momentum built isn’t wasted. If the side split is between “Astral Anchor” and “Estival” — and I think it is but I’m not 100 percent certain — then the first half of Holy Fingers III presses forward through its three shorter tracks into that pond of psychedelic lushness, while “Estival” starts side B with a folkish bent that lends the movement of “Majnac” a complementary Britness ahead of “In Warrior’s Stead” turning back to the far out and “Hunter’s Moon” ending big and expansive like some vision of the American West, complete with Morricone-via-Earth in the resonant and meditative guitars.

There is, just apparently to belabor the point, a lot going on in the material that comprises Holy Fingers III, but the band do not lose sight of their structured intent when faced with the task of moodmaking in their songs, and those songs are that much stronger for it. One could easily argue that it’s the underlying structures that allow Holy Fingers to harness such breadth of sound, but it’s academic as compares to the experience of putting the album on and having Buchanan commandingly lead the way into “Blood Red Sun” as the full band lines up around a classic-but-obscure-enough-to-be-individual groove warm in tone and melody but wanting nothing for heft either and able to pivot in delivery so as to be that much more flexible when it comes to atmosphere overall. There is, of course, also plenty of atmosphere, but like the rest of Holy Fingers III, it is accomplished with rare poise and distinct identity, adding to and taking nothing away from the collection of songs that feels nothing so much as loved in their making.

Holy Fingers, Holy Fingers III (2024)

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