Posted in Whathaveyou on May 27th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
There’s a moment right at four minutes and 30 seconds into Exosphere‘s new single where everything seems to be thudded into place and someone — guitarist Steven Graff, perhaps — lets out a throatripping scream that pushes into a another register higher and yeah, right in that moment, that’s where “Beg Towards the Sky” reminds me of Strapping Young Lad. And to be honest, even if the rest of the song wasn’t a charge of hardcore-informed mostly-but-not-entirely screamy aggro sludge, that’d be enough to get me on board. Just that extra push. Sometimes that kind of thing can make all the difference.
Nonetheless, in my head, I feel like the song should be “Beg Toward…” without the ‘s’. I actually went and looked it up though, and here’s what Merriam-Webster said: “Both toward and towards are fine to use and have been used interchangeably since their creation in the 9th century.” First of all, I love the fact that this has been a question for minimum 12 centuries. Also, I like finding stuff out about words. Maybe we’ll go towards this, toward that. Exosphere, clearly, will be skybound either way in the song. Also nodule-bound if they keep up that screaming. Gotta take care of yourselves, dudes.
Track’s at the bottom of the post. Enjoy:
Exosphere Release Blistering New Track – “Beg Towards The Sky”
“Beg Towards The Sky is a blistering track that captured the universal fear of AI autonomy/free will and presents it with riff after pummeling riff of energetic grooves and grandiose atmosphere.”
Exosphere is a psychedelic sludge band hailing from the suburbs of Chicago. Combining thick grooves, dissonant riffs, and shoegazey post rock inspired clean passages. This 4-piece channels equal parts peace and chaos to create an unparalleled combination of sounds that leaves the audience perplexed and captivated.
EXOSPHERE IS Jackie Frank Russell III – Vocals, Guitars Steven Graff – Guitars, Screams Henry Edward’s – Bass Guitar Bill Kaszubowski – Drums
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 20th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Just a couple upstart heavy rock bands hitting the road together on the way to a festival in the summertime. Would be business as usual in the Before Times, but these are the After Times, and being down with the plague — which is not to say “the sickness” — at the moment, I can tell you the After Times kind of suck. But the shows will be good and that’s what we’re here to talk about.
Aiwass‘ 2021 debut, Wayward Gods (review here), was released before the Ohio-based outfit had solidified a live lineup, so inevitably there will be some shift in dynamic there as they move forward, and Illinois duo Twin Wizard issued Glacial Gods (review here) in 2020, revamped their own lineup, and went back and remade the record, so it’s fair to say there’s a bit of the mercurial around both acts at this point, but there’s little arguing with the output of either. They’ll hit spots up and down the Middle Western portion of the country as they make their way to Doomed and Stoned Ohio on July 30, and I wish them safe, healthy and happy travels.
The tour poster — which I haven’t seen yet as I write this and is hopefully cartoon-boob free — and the dates follow here, courtesy of the PR wire:
The sun has emerged from winter clouds and with it comes the emergence of two bands from the heavy underground, Aiwass and Twin Wizard! In a co-headlining tour, these bands will storm their way across the midwest on the Glacial Titans Tour, bringing the heaviest of riffs to a town near you! Don’t miss these bands as they tour across Iowa, Illinois, Wisconsin, and Ohio, culminating with performances at the Ohio Doomed and Stoned Fest at the Buzzbin in Canton, Ohio! Follow both Aiwass and Twin Wizard on social media for more information as dates approach!
Dates: July 26: Gabe’s – Iowa City, IA July 27: 7th St. Space – Dekalb, IL July 28: Cactus Club – Milwaukee, WI July 29: Liars Club – Chicago, IL July 30: Ohio Doomed and Stoned Fest – Canton, OH
Chicago-based three-piece Sunvolume released their first two-songer last Fall. Self-titled, the outing brought forth the tracks “Fever in the Funkhouse” and “Crystallizer,” neither of which is much past two and a half minutes long, but manage just the same to signal much about the band’s intent going forward and perhaps some of what got them together in the first place. Foremost, they seem to have no time to screw around. Formed at the behest of guitarist/vocalist Justin Sanetra (also Blue Dream, Hot Box Sound Machine, and numerous others) with bassist Jimmy Russell and drummer Tristan Hardin — though Brett Sassetti is in the video and features with the band live — the about five minutes of the 7″-ready offering are rife with catchy, melodic but tonally present fare.
“Fever in the Funkhouse” very obviously knows of what it speaks. Fading in on the quick, it takes off with percussive, processed beats that remind of Genghis Tron‘s latest, but the fuzz tone of the guitar and the poppy chorus and verse (also a hook) bring to mind some of Stabbing Westward‘s skill in writing songs that were industrial rock rather than metal. Take that, a bit of Torche‘s willingness to dance, and a more solidified post-rock ambience — like if that last Hum record were boiled down to its most essential elements — and if you can do the math on that combination in under the five minutes it takes to actually just go ahead and listen to the thing, first, congratulations, and second, why? The thing’s streaming right at the bottom of this.
Second of the two, “Crystallizer” follows suit from “Fever in the Funkhouse,” with a short bridge that comes to a dead stop before returning to a final chorus one an efficient manifestation of traditional structure that speaks to the ethic of the band as a whole. Moody heavy pop. Rock run through with an electronic current. You can do just about anything when you’ve got songwriting as your foundation, and listening to both “Fever in the Funkhouse” and “Crystallizer,” I’ve no doubt they’d work just as well as solo acoustic pieces as they do in their current form. At the rate they go, they’d make a full-length out of about 25 minutes’ worth of material, but listening to “Crystallizer” with its subtle focus on bass in comparison to “Fever in the Funkhouse,” there’s an impulse there to shift the character of their songs that will hopefully continue to serve them well whatever might come next.
To that end, the trio have already released a follow-up to Sunvolume in the form of a cover of Jefferson Airplane‘s “Somebody to Love” paired with a Sanetra-helmed remix of the same song. You can find that at their Bandcamp (linked below) after digging on the “Fever in the Funkhouse” video, which you’ll find immediately following the word “enjoy.”
Enjoy:
Sunvolume, “Fever in the Funkhouse” video premiere
Fever In The Funkhouse by SUNVOLUME
Recorded by Kane Churko @ The Hideout Recording Studios in Las Vegas
Video by Effeno Films https://www.effenofilms.com/ https://www.instagram.com/effenofilms/
Intro filmed at Superior Street Center For The Arts in Chicago, Illinois Concert footage filmed at The Forge in Joliet, Illinois Radio Voice from Don Wilson at WIIL Rock 95.1 FM
Vocals & Guitar – Justin Sanetra Bass – Jimmy Russell Drums – Tristan Hardin
Posted in Questionnaire on May 5th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Jackie Russell of Exosphere
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
We regard Exosphere as a Psychedelic Sludge Metal band, though that certainly was not the goal from the outset: our guitarist Steven originally hit me up to try and make a track that mixed Doom Metal and Thrash Metal. This presented an inherent challenge, as those subgenres are on opposite corners of the metal landscape because of their differences in tempo, performance style, and aggression. This first track we made together was called “Paralyzed,” and from there we honed in on the parts of that sound that we enjoyed to create our first EP. Since then we’ve been experimenting more and more with hardcore and shoegaze styles, which eventually blended our style into the Psychedelic Sludge gumbo that we know and perform today.
Describe your first musical memory.
At our first show we were passing around a joint between the stage and the audience, and it was Steven’s turn in the roto. An audience member came up to help him light it but accidentally Steve’s hair on fire while he was playing. Even before we could afford them Exosphere has always loved Pyrotechnics apparently haha.
For me personally I remember playing with a cello (badly) when I was six at some music event for kids in Seattle. It made me realize the huge range of noises possible with modern instruments, and I’ve been attempting to utilize them all throughout the musical works I’ve taken part in.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Our best memories are being made as we speak: we had the opportunity to work with Billy Barnett from Gung-Ho Studios for the mixing of our newest single “Beg Towards the Sky.” Billy has worked on a number of big albums, but the one closest to us at Exosphere was the Yob album Our Raw Heart. To hear his intense and visceral production on our recording is truly the most excited I’ve personally ever been for this band, and it’s only going up from here.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
When the band started our guitarist Steve hated pedals with a passion. It was amp tone and that’s IT. One of mine and Steve’s mutual friends helped usher Steve into the complex world of pedal building and tone sculpting, and while it took a while for the egg to crack Steven eventually started collecting and experimenting with various overdrive, fuzz, and modulation pedals to create a sound beyond anything we would have imagined upon recording our first EP. Steven is so into the sound now that he is helping me to build up a pedal board that complements his for this next record of ours.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
To new heights! Stagnation is something I fear constantly, and because of that I have a deep desire to never repeat myself musically — why would I be redundant when I can explore new ground? Exosphere is in line with this idea, and within our next album this is extremely apparent: The vibe is so much more chaotic than before, yet with a unique central focus that evades common ground with both our past work and the work of our peers.
How do you define success?
Being able to eat three meals a day and pay my bills. All I need musically to feel successful is to have a musical product I’m happy with, a point which I’ve been able to reach for several years now. Our hope is that as we grow we’ll be able to rely more and more on the financial income of Exosphere to help fund the band so we can afford to save our personal wages for eating and self care.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Steve posts some really interesting pictures on Facebook dot com. Probably about 30 percent of his feed I wish I hadn’t seen.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I’d love to get a live orchestra, or at least live orchestral players, onto some of the next Exosphere albums. As of now we utilize synthesizers for most of our accompaniment outside of the rock band quartet that we are made up of, so it would be cool to have more acoustic instruments. I graduated with a degree in Music Composition, so part of me just has all this knowledge of different voicing and techniques for orchestral strings that I know would fit like a glove in an Exosphere track.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
I don’t think there’s one right answer. To me it’s a release from the high stakes but mundane existence that we’re forced to live through. That said, when writing music I actively draw comparisons between our existence and the thematic material at hand to better understand this world and my reactions to it. Simultaneously music has the ability to effect my emotions in a multitude of ways that can’t be quantified. All of this is to say there’s so many different functions that music serves for me alone, and delineating one as the ‘true’ function of music wouldn’t give the breadth of experiences it can create any justice.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I’m excited for the inevitable heat death of the universe after which all of our actions will be forgotten by time.
Posted in Questionnaire on May 3rd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Idin Alexzander of Lavisher
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
At a minimum, as a drummer, I help establish the rhythm and keep time. But there’s certainly more to it. There can be. You can add drama or tension to a section, let it breathe, accentuate certain notes to shift the feel of a song to something more.
Describe your first musical memory.
I don’t have a specific first musical memory but I suppose, if pressed, it’d have to be listening to music at home with my mother. But I’d rather not elaborate. It’s a wonderful sort of memory and if I’d share it, the bloom would come off the rose and I want it only for myself. It’s nourishing.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
The beginnings of me playing the drums. It was the first time in my young life that I did something that seemed to come naturally. It was a relief to find that. It was shortly after I had heard Metallica and started my heavy music journey. That led to all the incredible shows I saw and friends I have made.
Or maybe it was seeing The Dillinger Escape Plan play Calculating Infinity at the Fireside Bowl and being literally at the front of the stage with Ben Weinman swinging his guitar like a fucking madman, dodging it and being blown away by Chris Pennie’s drumming. Fucking brilliant! Nora and Ka also played and what a show it was.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
This question reminds me of undergrad or law school, where you have some Ayn Rand loving asshole, some selfish Libertarian, talking about excellence, independence, or some other horseshit they mangled through the filter of their beliefs. Fucking handed down from their douchebag parents. Those fuckers are always trying to test you. They couldn’t of course. They’d try to sling their false intellectualism but I never respected it. How could I respect a position like that coming from those pricks? Those motherfuckers grew up in the burbs where life is soft, grew up rich, talking about bootstraps and such. Fuck those guys. This just makes me want to go and read more Kant.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Knowledge for one. I suppose it leads to a self-discovery of sorts. If you have an interest in becoming a better artist, I say that abstractly because I am reticent to refer to myself as such, so let’s say musician to soften the blow of the question, you will explore new methods of expressing your creativity. You will focus on techniques or set goals. As a drummer, some of these can be technical or merely physical. I want to learn the push-pull method or, I want to be able to blast at 300 bpm. The self-discovery bit comes when you face those decisions of what you really want out of the instrument and yourself.
How do you define success?
The answer to that concludes the previous. Getting better at the technical and academic side of the instrument. Chops for lack of a better word. But substance without style is dull. I wouldn’t sacrifice one for the other because my ambition is to maximize both, however that lands. And so I want to be better at expressing my ideas and synthesizing and expressing my bandmates’ ideas too. Would that be holistic?
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Nothing. I say that for two reasons, what I have seen has been an experience that has brought me to where I am. Or maybe I just haven’t seen enough fucked up shit. I’ve heard about people’s fucked up lives but that’s not my life. So it’s either I am the sum of my experience and however painful some memories in my mind’s eye are, they lead me to this point, or maybe I am a fucking fraud who has lived a charmed existence. Either way, I’ll be the one beating myself up about it.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
In a musical sense, I want to write drum parts that are beyond anything I can do now, utilizing drumline techniques and then at some point, bits of gospel chops, and elements of styles that are beyond me.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
To provoke thoughts or emotions one hadn’t considered or felt. To enhance or give shape to thoughts or emotions one could not elucidate.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Finishing The Price of Salt and reading more poetry. It’s mostly lost on me. I’ve got to work on that.
Posted in Questionnaire on April 26th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Tom Denney of I Klatus & Tom Denney Art
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
The attempt is to create the heaviest expression. The desire to experience the heaviest expression has not been achieved. The frustration is in the continued attempts to capture the heaviest expression. It started before consciousness started. More of a destiny, or a magnetic tethering. The first expression was pre toddler smashing different cooking pots together to make the noises bend to the will. Then Tuba in grade school. The largest and most primal brass instrument. The amount of air your lungs could produce could generate tones, primal chaotic tones. When the air passed through the various curvatures of the brass pipe system, you could stagger the breath in combination with certain vocalizations to generate the alternating tones which would sound closer to animal. Like an elephant or large cetacean. Also the volume and vibration that would be caused in the room always fascinated.
From the age of 8-18 I was able to grow my lung power to the point that I could yield the tuba as a sonic weapon, creating sharp whipping noises that would create great amusement by the consternation of and within a football field radius. Which was often fun because we would actually perform at football fields, like the Orange Bowl in Florida. I would have to work with an assault line of other tuba players in order to project our internal lung capacity through the winding of the brass tubes over the combined voices of sixty thousand stadium goers.
Soon after that I traded in the tuba for bass guitar. Continuing to search for the sound until I finally got myself a Gibson six-string and proper mesa boogie full stack. Originally it was just noise that would clear out basement shows. Then it evolved. It continues, the search for the heaviest continues.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Playing on a big stage next to your best friends while every one is in sync. Playing music with other people, there have been so many times where it crosses over into the mystical. To attempt to point out one experience isn’t really viable. To say that there is something very metaphysical to playing live music with other talented musicians, it is as close to eucharistic transcendental experience that you could hope for as a human. Outside of jumping out of a plane, jamming live and really getting into sync with people musically is as close as you can get to the thrill of the void. It taps into a deeper part of my being. It’s proof of the resonance of sound and psychic abilities. They call it “Intuitive Playing”.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
…
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Poverty.
How do you define success?
The ability to transmit a message and have it received by another participant.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
…
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I would like to create an animated series. Lots of colors and moving elements all set to music.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
To capture the imagination, hold it in place. It is to make permanent the flowing of ideas which pass through the mind. Like taking a snapshot into the imagination, which is in itself with the flow of the nature of the universe. Where do ideas come from? Where every thing else in nature comes from. The Void. Pondering the void can lead to existential breakdown for most workers. However the artist stands at the edge of this void, tethered by a single rope, leaning into the void to report back to the rest of the culture the changing tides and torrents of the void. A seed springs forth from the shadowy mud as a stalk of receiving, searching for the light. Most people only want to hear about the light, see pictures of it in advertisements, listen to other people conduct their opinions about the mater. Yet only the artist are compelled to explore it in person. The experience of which can either destroy you or make you whole. For it is the true spirit of man which feeds of art. It holds immense value.
It will be the only way we have to tell our story to future generations. Art is our only document of how our souls are currently surviving, impacted by the flow of creation, and living in the warm embrace of a central star that will eventually go supernova and destroy us in every sense. We look to the art to show us lifetimes beyond our own, possibilities of our seed passing on through the darkness of space into a never dying new form of awareness. Art is the life raft of our culture through the deafening sour void that is existence. Destruction and cosmic survival intertwined. Like coiled serpents flowing in unison into each other for all eternity. Art is the promise of a cosmic rebirth. Through sound, and vision and storytelling in all its forms and conjurations. The art and its creator is our truest form of magick. As everything emanates from the void of the mind firstly and then through skill and control, is transcribed onto paper or computer. Then the engineers set to crafting it and it is made real.
Every technological miracle mankind has achieved from the wheel to the space vehicles, it all started with the artist, transcribing the vision for others to follow. On the cave wall with charcoal or the corporate hi rises with light pens and holographic interface. It will always be the artist at the forefront of these unfoldments. A visionary artist is your best friend when it comes to conjuring and manifesting the unseen or impossible. The artist will find the way, the artist will build the path that leads to kingdoms built of knowing. Like the temple of prayer which all emperors are crowned upon was envisioned by an artist, hanging over the edge of the void. The realms of chaos and noise. From which he conjures something pure. Something that we all can interpret differently, and subscribe to and follow. Art is not a religion, it is THE RELIGION, which is called by many names. Its unfoldment will continue to astound us and lead us into the future. Through fashion and technology, and interpersonal relationships, art will continue to be the life raft that carries all the consciousness of humanity forward. Into the void of unknowing, and the retainment of the past.
Art is our only promise of immortality.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
It’s been a load road, getting from there to here, and here isn’t even there yet if you know what I mean. Alas, Thursday. Day four — 4, IV, I can’t remember how I’ve been writing it out — of the Spring 2022 Quarterly Review, and it’s a doozy. These things are always packed, in fact it’s pretty much the idea, but I still find that even this week as I’m putting out 10 reviews a day — we’ll get to 60 total next Monday — I’m playing catchup with more stuff coming down the pike. It seems more and more like each Quarterly Review I’ve done out of like the last five could’ve been extended a day beyond what it already was.
Alas, Thursday. Overwhelmed? Me too.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Messa, Close
After two LPs through Aural Music, Italy’s Messa arrive via Svart with a crucial third album in Close. The hype surrounding the record has been significant, and Close earns every bit of it across its 10-song/64-minute run, intricately arranged as the Italian four-piece continue to bridge stylistic gaps with an ease born of expansive songcraft and stunning performance, first from vocalist Sara Bianchin (also percussion) and further from guitarist Alberto Piccolo (also oud, mandolin), bassist/synthesist/vocalist Marco Zanin (also various keys and percussion), and drummer Rocco Toaldo (also harsh vocals, percussion), who together create a complete and encompassing vision of doom that borrows periodically from black metal as anything artsy invariably must, but is more notable for its command of itself. That is, Messa — through the entirety of the hour-plus — are nothing but masterful. There’s an old photo of The Beatles watching Jimi Hendrix circa 1967, seeming resigned at being utterly outclassed by the ‘next thing.’ It’s easy to imagine much of doom looking at Messa the same way.
If what goes around comes around, then don’t be surprised when “Fire & Ice” goes circle-mosh near the end and you get punched in the head. Old. School. Southern. Sludge. Metal. Dudes play it big, and mean, and grooving. Think of turn of the century acts like Alabama Thunderpussy and Beaten Back to Pure, maybe earlier Sourvein, but with a big old lumbering update in sound thanks to a Phillip Cope recording job and a ferocity of its own. They’ve got a pedigree that includes Black Skies, Manticore and Black Hand Throne, and though The Weight of Death is their first long-player, they’ve been a band for seven years and their anti-dogmatic culmination in “Mr. Miserum” feels sincere as only it can coming from the land of the Southern Baptist Church. Aggression pervades throughout, but the band aren’t necessarily monochromatic. Sometimes they’re mad, sometimes they’re pissed off. Watch out when they’re pissed off. And am I wrong for feeling nostalgic listening? Can’t be too soon for them to be retro, right? Either way, they hit it hard and that’s just fine. Everybody needs to blow off steam sometime.
Do I even need to say it, that a band called Dirty Nips offering up a demo called Can O’ Dirty Demo Nipples get up to some pretty cheeky shenanigans therein? I hope not. Still, as the Bristol-via-Poland outfit crunch out the riffs of “The Third Nipple” and harmonica-laced Hank Williams-style country blues on “As I Stumbled” and touch on psychedelic jamming in opener “The Basement” and the later experimental-feeling “Dirty Nips Pt. II,” which just drops to silence in the middle enough to make you wonder if it’s coming back (it is), there’s clearly more going on here than goofball chicanery. “Jechetki” builds on the blues and adds a grunge chug, and closer “Mountain Calling” is — dare I say it? — classy with its blend of acoustic guitar and organ, echoing spoken vocal and engagingly patient realization. They may end up wishing they called themselves something else as time goes on, but as it stands, Dirty Nips‘ demo tape heralds a sonic complexity that makes it that much harder to predict where they might end up, and is all the more satisfying a listen for that.
Though they’re by no means the only band in Sweden to dig into some form of traditionalism in heavy rock, Västerås five-piece Ocean to Burn evoke a decidedly more straight-ahead, Southern-heavy feel throughout the nine songs and 33 minutes of Vultures, their self-released full-length. The throaty grit of vocalist Adam Liifw is a big part of that impression, but in the guitars of Mathilda Haanpää and Fredrik Blomqvist, the tone is more stripped-down than huge-sounding, and the grooves from bassist Pontus Jägervall and drummer Fredrik Hiltunen follow suit. That central purpose suits songs like “Wastelands” and the more strutting “Nay Sayer,” and though they largely stick to their guns style-wise, a bluesier nod on “No Afterlife” early and a breakout in closer “Vulture Road” assure there’s some toying with the balance, even as the tracks all stick to the three- to about four-and-a-half-minute range. They’ve been at it for a while, and seem to revel in the ‘nothin-too-fancy’ attitude of the material, but honestly, they don’t need tricks or novelty to get their point across.
Following an encouraging start in 2019’s Cirrus (review here), Nijmegen instrumentalists Mt. Echo return with the conceptual-feeling Electric Empire, still holding some noise rock crunch in “Automaton” following the opener “Sound & Fury,” but saving its biggest impacts for the angular “50 Fanthoms,” the 10-minute “Flummox” and subsequent “As the Tide Serves,” and on the whole working to bring that side of their approach together with the atmospheric heavy post-rock float of “The End of All Dispute” and the early going of “These Concrete Lungs.” At 10 songs and just under an hour long, Electric Empire has room for world-building, and one of Mt. Echo‘s great strengths is being able to offset patience with urgency and vice versa. By the time they cap with “Torpid,” the trio of Gerben Elburg, Vincent Voogd and Rolf Vonk have worked to further distinguish themselves among their various sans-vocals proggy peers. One hopes they’ll continue on such a path.
Vocalist Eric Brock, guitarist/backing vocalist/principal songwriter Lewis Inglis, bassist Dean Gordon and drummer Ryan Wilson are Edinburgh’s Earl of Hell, and their debut EP, Get Smoked, builds on the brash grooves of prior singles “Arryhthmia” (sic) and “Blood Disco,” the latter of which appears as the penultimate of the six included tracks on the 23-minute outing. More stomp-and-swing than punch-you-in-the-face, “I Am the Chill” nonetheless makes its sense of threat clear — it is not about chilling out — as if opener “Hang ’em High” didn’t. Split into two three-song sides each with a shorter track between, it’s in “Parasite” and “Blood Disco” that the band are at their most punk rock, but as the slower “Bitter Fruits” mellows out in opening side B, there’s more to their approach than just full-sprint shove, though don’t tell that to closer “Kill the Witch,” which revels in its call and response with nary a hesitation as it shifts into Spanish-language lyrics. High-octane, punk-informed heavy rock and roll, no pretense of trying to push boundaries; just ripping it up and threaten to burn ladies alive, as one apparently does.
Released on New Year’s Day after being recorded in Dec. 2021 in the trio’s native Rome, “Yonder” serves as the initial public offering and first single from Slugg, and at 9:59, it is more than a vague teaser for the band they might be. The guitar of Jacopo Cautela and the bass of Stephen Drive bring a marked largesse that nonetheless is able to move when called upon to do so by Andrea Giamberardini‘s drumming, and Cautela‘s corresponding vocals are pushed deeper back in the mix to emphasize those tones. Much of the second half of “Yonder” is given to a single, rolling purpose, but the band cleverly turn that into a build as they move forward, leaving behind the gallops of the first few minutes of the song, but making the transition from one side to another smoothly via midsection crashes and ably setting up the ring-out finish that will draw the song to its close. Not without ambition, “Yonder” crushes with a sense of physical catharsis while affecting an atmosphere that is no less broad. They make it easy to hope for more to come along these lines.
Joe Freedman, also of Banshee, first saw Telepathic Radio released as the debut full-length from Mirage in 2021 through Misophonia Records on tape. There are still a few of them left. That version runs 30 songs and 90 minutes. The Cardinal Fuzz/Centripetal Force edition is 50 minutes/20 tracks, but either way you go, get your head ready for dug-in freakness. Like freakness where you open the artwork file for the digital promo and all three versions are the cover of a Rhapsody album. Ostensibly psychedelic, songs play out like snippets from a wandering attention span, trying this weird thing and seeing it through en route to the next. In this way, Telepathic Radio is both broad-ranging and somewhat contained. The recordings are raw, fade in and out and follow their own paths as though recorded over a stretch of time rather than in one studio burst, which seems indeed to be how they were made. Horns, samples, keys, even some guitar, a bit of “TV Party” and “TV Eye” on “TV Screens,” Mirage howls and wails out there on its private wavelength, resolved to be what it is regardless of what one might expect of it. By the time even the 20-track version is done, the thing you can most expect is to have no clue what just happened in your brain. Rad.
With its first, self-titled release, An Evening Redness basks in morose Americana atmospheres, slow, patient guitar drones, warm bass and steady rhythms giving way to periodically violent surges. Founded perhaps as a pandemic project for Brandon Elkins of Auditor and Iron Forest, the six-song full-length explores the underlying intensity and threat to person and personhood that a lot of American culture just takes for granted. The name and inspiration for the project are literary — ‘An Evening Redness in the West’ is the subtitle of Cormac McCarthy’s 1985 novel, Blood Meridian — and An Evening Redness, even in the long instrumental stretch of 12-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “Alkali,” treats the subject matter with duly textured reverence. Elkins isn’t alone here, and the vocals of Bridget Bellavia on the brooding “Mesa Skyline” and the closing pair of “Pariah” and “Black Flame at the Edge of the Desert,” as well as the contributions of other guests in various locales around the world up to and including Elkins‘ native Chicago should not be downplayed in enriching these explorations of space and sound. Bands like Earth and Across Tundras warrant mention as precursors of the form, but An Evening Redness casts its own light in the droning “Winter, 1847” and the harmonica-wailing “The Judge” enough to be wholly distinct from either in portraying the sometimes horrifying bounty of the land and the cruelty of those living in it.
Brothers John and Marc Beaudette — who if they aren’t twins are close enough — comprise New Hampshire’s Cryptophaser, and XXII is their first demo, pressed in an edition of 50 purple tapes. Dudes might as well just open my wallet. Fair enough. In what’s a show of chemistry and musical conversation that’s obviously been going on longer than these songs — that is, I highly suspect the maybe-twin brothers who drum and play guitar have been playing together more than a year — they bring an adversarial bent to the conventions of heavy fuzz, and do so with the proverbial gusto, breaking away from monolithic tones in favor of sheer dynamic, and when they shift into the drone in “October 83,” they make themselves a completely different band like it isn’t even a thing. Casual kickass. At 13 minutes, it flows like a full-length and has a full-length’s breadth of ideas (some full-lengths, anyway), and the energy from one moment to the next is infectious, be that next part fast, slow, loud, quiet, or whatever else they want it to be.
Chicago purveyors of avant darkness, harsh metal, noise and sludge disaffection I Klatus are set to release their new album, Targeted, this Friday, April 1, through their own Dead Sage Records label. As with 2017’s Nagual Sun (review here) and 2013’s Kether (featured here), their volatility is their own on this fifth full-length. Their tribalism their own. As it has throughout their 20-plus years of existence, phasing into and out of our reality like a flash from some manipulated subdimensional core, their underlying chaos of mind feels sincere. The three-piece of founding guitarist/vocalist Tom Denney (also visuals here and for a wide slew of others), bassist/vocalist John E. Bomher (Bury the Machines, Indian, Yakuza), who also mixed and mastered at Berwyn Recording, and drummer/vocalist Chris Wozniak (Lair of the Minotaur and that’s all you need) conjure a visceral, inward-born darkness. It is not accessible, or friendly, or kind. Targeted mangles with a grief born of addiction, mental illness, violence. While it’s nowhere near the most thrashing of sounds, to call it anything less than extreme is underselling it.
In just five tracks and 28 minutes, I Klatus portray this grim fascia of right now, utilizing a deceptive depth of arrangement and the inclusion of guest spots from Allison Chesley (aka Helen Money) on cello and Valentina Levchenko on vocals for opener “Solstice of Wind,” violin/cello from Joseph Starita on the subsequent “Shitback and Halfway Damned,” lyrics from Michael McEvoy on the especially gruesome “Dance With the Skulls in the Church,” and gongs and more from Patrick Hamilton on grinding centerpiece “Opium Cyborg” and the more extended closing title-track, which moves from its quiet beginning to cast its own post-sludgy vision of paranoia, conspiracy, and malevolence. If there is a soul, it is a thing to be mourned. Gone.
One could write a dissertation on the sociopolitical statement being inherently made. If this is some version of how a piece of the post-Rust Belt white working class views itself and its experience, then that is one more level on which I Klatus sound well and truly fucked. I’ll spare you the blah-blah-blah (this much, anyhow) and leave you instead to the morose back half of “Shitback and Halfway Damned,” the bleak krautrock of “Dance With the Skulls in the Church” and the anti-genre strive for understanding of “Targeted” itself. There’s performance happening here, of course — I Klatus didn’t just hit record and Targeted magically came out; these songs were built carefully and fleshed out even beyond the bounds of the trio themselves — but it’s rare to hear something raw enough at its heart to feel as authentic as this does in what it’s trying to convey.
You can stream the full album below, followed by a track-by-track generously put together by the band.
I’m not sure if “enjoy” is the right word, but maybe “appreciate” would work.
I Klatus started off as a college basement noise project just after the twin towers fell. Like the blob, the project consumed other artists, digesting their talent. It slowly grew in scope, embellishing the fundamentals of musicianship rooted in sonic exploration with downtuned guitars. The subtle frequencies, hums and grinding synthesizers have always reminded us of the sounds of madness, the type of white noise that comes to mind through transcendental meditation. It is at the core of our beliefs that Sonics are the Foundation of the Universe and by exploring the sounds of noise, we further delve into the expanse that is universal creation and we challenge the listener to join us on the journey and find the songs within the sounds. This is the fundamental groundwork by which all our songs take root and find expansion; like a tree growing through the floorboards of an abandoned society. Noise in a very real sense is a type of deity in itself. One that we take a knee to and worship wholeheartedly.
Immediately on the heels of “Nagual Sun,” the band went into seclusion in the cold mountain town of Snoqualmie, WA, to write and record a follow-up. 14 sunless days went by and in stark contrast to the summer sun filled experience of Los Angeles which inspired “Nagual Sun,” we forced ourselves to write without any distractions from jobs or family, without any sunshine or warmth. Just cold rain and troll spirits.
The entire concept of the album is about fear, addict ion, and psychosis. Confronting the self-obsessed fears often faced by those with mental health challenges such as schizophrenia or bi-polar disorder. Often times, these unfortunate victims of their own minds are terrorized by unseen entities which cause them to turn to drugs and other strange behavior to cope with the daily horrors which plague them. An irrational fear of being followed, tracked, and hunted. Fear of being implanted with microchips while unconscious; injecting shadow entities their nightmares, nightmares which bleed into daytime realities. The psychosis is infectious, affecting who you’re able to trust. Here we confront the harsh reality that we’re face to face with when these kinds of struggles affect our loved ones, and we find ourselves in a position of needing to protect ourselves from these unseen forces which are very real to the victims of such maladies.
Solstice of Wind
Air as an element is often associated with breath, life, communication, and the holy spirit connection. The solstice is when a star reaches its solar maximum. As far as we are concerned here on Earth, the Sun is our Lord, governing agriculture and survival. We revere and celebrate the abundance of life it brings. The tribal drums and ancient sonic tools (such as the bullroar) used to make the rhythmic patterns of this song symbolizes the breath of life, a petition to the Lord.
The lyrics channel the chaos energy of the dragon, a war cry. A vow to conquer the unknown and to meet the challenges of daily survival through the breath and the beat; petitioning the light to awaken the dawn of actualization. We beat the drums in hopes to open a portal to a place of reverence. An altar where the sonic ritual brings us to timelessness, which may end our suffering.
Shitback and Halfway Damned
A song that deals with having to take measures to protect yourself from people who were formerly very close to you. Friends and family members who become infected with this black ooze of fear and mind control. No matter if it comes from addiction to a foreign substance or a malfunction in the frontal cortex of the brain. The tension in the song reflects this notion that you must constantly be gripping some sort of weapon, metaphorically or physically. To constantly be on edge like you need to protect yourself from someone who you are required to allow entrance to your house, or your personal space, both fists clenched.
It features Joseph Starita (Hunt Hunt Hunt Camp, Unique Sheik) on the violins and cellos conjuring the feeling of being on sinking ship in a violent storm, water ripping you to shreds before sending you down into the briny depths to be lost forever in darkness.
Opium Cyborg
This song is about losing your humanity and your soul to the opiates. Injecting the flesh with some sort of synthetic that replaces the viability of human consciousness, thus overriding any sense of humanity and replacing it with a cybernetic high of mind. No longer capable of independent thought. No longer viewing the abilities of human empathy or emotion. It is about literally being transformed into a robot while trying to find God, through substances.
As if to say this attempt to find solace transforms you physically, mentally, and spiritually into a cybernetic automaton, going through the motions of being human but vacant of those sacred aspects which make up your “soul.” As I sit here writing this, I’m looking over my brother’s ravaged and mangled body, destroyed by years of abuse, wires and tubes coming out of everywhere, limbs lost… a casualty of this opioid crisis.
Dance With the Skulls in the Church
Inspired by the real-life case of the Hampstead Children, it tiptoes upon the precipice of the “eyes wide shut” realm of conspiracy and satanic ritual abuse. The unbelievable accusations of the children who said that the church leaders would practice dark rituals when the church doors were closed amongst a secret few elite in which they would actually dance in the church nude with the bleached skulls of murdered babies; by decree of archbishops and parents who would partake in the macabre dance ritual hidden beyond the gaze of decency, beyond the influence of the righteous.
This piece features the noisy textures of our label mate Patrick Hamilton (Viaverso) a Chicago mainstay with a strange ear for psychedelia and a first-hand knowledge of the horrors of which we speak. We were so pleased with his contributions to this one that we invited him to add his “gongs and robots” to the album’s title track.
Targeted
Targeted is centered around the odd phenomenon of feeling subjugated and harassed by unseen forces of influence on a daily basis. People who believe they are targeted are somehow born into it because of their genetics. They are marked by unseen adversaries, be it elite government agencies or something higher, the end result being the consistent and unending harassment via an array of attack modules all of which share in common a specific undeniable scientific reality.
The deeper you delve into the targeted-individual psychosis the more you find out that it is a type of spiritual warfare where demons or entities from other dimensions not too dissimilar from aliens at Roswell, are shifting in and out of reality to cajole or attempt to belittle and over time harass into Insanity the victims. The purpose of this is unclear but victims describe something more akin to the poltergeist experience. In fact, seeing shadow beings in mirrors and having objects disappear or reappear, a spiritual warfare.
The battleground is the soul, and the war is fought for sanity. The victims of this psychosis seem to have no control over their reality and this to me is the most horrifying prospect imaginable. To wake up and have zero control over your substance, over your surroundings. Nothing could be more terrifying than this thought that there are overseeing demigods which have only mischief and chaos in mind for your life.
This strips you of autonomy. It strips you of your voice of creation because nothing you can do or say can extricate yourself from this environment of constant surveillance and individualized attacks. The worst and most terrifying aspect of this is that you are doomed to have no one believe you. What would you do if you woke up in this type of situation? What would any of us do?
Mixed and mastered by John E. Bomher at Berwyn Recording, with layout/artwork by Tom Denney, Targeted also features guest performances by Alison Chesley aka Helen Money (cello on “Solstice Of Wind), Valentina Levchenko (vocals on “Solstice Of Wind”), Joseph Starita (violin, cello on “Shitback And Halfway Damned”), Patrick Hamilton (gongs, robots on “Opium Cyborg” and “Targeted”), and guest lyricist Michael McEvoy on “Dance With The Skulls In The Church.”
I KLATUS: Tom Denney – guitar, voice, noise John E Bomher – bass, voice, noise Chris Wozniak – drums, voice
