Tell your normie friends you have a doctor’s appointment or something, because the Quarterly Review is back with day two of five, bringing another round of 10 releases to bear in succession rapid enough to be modern without, you know, actually being written by a computer. Unless you consider the entire universe a hologram, in which case, technically, everything is done by a computer. Processor sucks though. That’s why you get lags. And fascism.

But enough of that. More of this.

Quarterly Review #11-20:

Primordial, Live in New York City

A Primordial live album? Fine. Recorded in New York? Fine. Whatever. Just hook it to my veins and be done with it. The stalwart Dublin post-black-metallers have long since established their mastery of form, and frankly, the more examples there are of them doing the thing, so much the better for future generations to learn from. That’s only funny if you think I’m kidding. The 99 minutes of Live in New York City are a document of Primordial not at their most furious or unhinged, or at their most atmospheric, graceful or doomed, but they are stately in “The Golden Spiral,” “As Rome Burns” and the ever-epic “Bloodied Yet Unbowed.” I remain a sucker for “Empire Falls” and “No Grave Deep Enough,” that era, but newer material like “How it Ends” and “Victory Has 1,000 Fathers, Defeat is an Orphan” resonate well alongside what to my mind are classics, emphasizing the vitality and stage presence that remain in Primordial. If it’s a victory lap, or contractually obligated, or whatever, I don’t care. It’s Primordial. There’s no stronger endorsement you could give it than to say that.

Primordial website

Metal Blade Records website

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Cattlemass, Alpha 1128

Cattlemass have a live lineup, but the studio debut from the band was written, played and tracked by Chris Price, and the eight songs of Alpha 1128 (shades of THX 1138 in the title) would seem to be harnessing his vision of a mostly mid-tempo doom metal that’s not afraid to break out and rock a bit or dig into a creeper procession like “Infecticide.” Starting with its longest track in “Chant of Cthulhu,” Price enacts a thickly toned nod that holds even as “Eternal Beast” tosses psych flourish into its midsection. Some of the production reveals a background in metal — the muted stops in “Replicant,” complementing a robotic theme, bring the wavform all the way down; stoner recordings leave the amp hum — but there’s attention to atmosphere around that, both in “Intermission” and the instrumental finale “Exit Oblivion” and in the later reaches of “The Wizard” and the largesse that swells as “Nachthexen” rolls through its midsection. I’ll be curious to discover where Price goes from here, and if Cattlemass‘ next LP might be a full-band affair.

Cattlemass on Bandcamp

Cattlemass on Instagram

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Honeybadger, Let There Be Light

Though the intro guitar on “Before the Crash” seems to call out to original-era Mediterranean psychedelic rock, Athenian four-piece Honeybadger are nothing if not terrestrial. Specifically, grounded in desert-heavy and catchy songwriting, with their second album, Let There Be Light coming five years after their debut, Pleasure Delayer (review here), which they spent years supporting. Queens of the Stone Age remain a primary influence, though “Before the Crash” pushes outside this in its melody and “Filth and Disorder” hits harder and “Empty-Handed” is more fuzzed, and as with the first album, there are personality aspects that shine through as “The Green” answers in its riff the call of the opener and the horn arrangement in the closing title-track plays a dirge. It’s been a minute, and the LP feels short at 32 minutes, but the tradeoff is the songs are tight and sharply delivered and I’ll take that every time. Honeybadger took their time to make it, but what they’ve made is a step forward.

Honeybadger website

SODEH Records website

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Blue Heron, Emulations

Not gonna feign impartiality here, as I consider Blue Heron frontman Jadd Shickler a friend and he’s someone I’ve worked with for over 20 years, but what I will say is that I very much dug 2024’s Everything Fades (review here), and Emulations builds on that with included live versions of “Everything Fades” and “Swansong” (as well as two cuts from the first LP) recorded at KUNM in the band’s native Albuquerque, while pushing ahead with a new original track “Marigold” that’s a highlight, and three covers — Fudge Tunnel‘s “Grey,” Clutch‘s “The House That Peterbilt” and Floor‘s “Find Away” — that emphasize the flexibility of the band around their heavy desert core. “Grey” is vicious at its heaviest, “Find Away” is admirably loyal to the original in its weighted blowout, and the Clutch tune gets a gruff treatment, but the melodies in “Marigold” and the energy in the live takes give a full album’s worth of satisfaction while packaged as an EP to take on tour. Mark it a win.

Blue Heron on Bandcamp

Blues Funeral Recordings website

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Stoned Spirit, Inside Me

Stoned Spirit offer big hooks, thoughtful songcraft, progressive arrangements and a sense of the material as an outreach to the listener. It’s my first experience with the band, who also had an album out in 2016, but from the voicing of all “Mankind” in the opener through the uptick in tonal density as the built-into title-track unfurls its lumber, there doesn’t seem to be a moment on Inside Me that one would call ‘unconsidered.’ This is a strength to the listening experience because the four-piece — vocalist Tony, guitarist Marios (also backing vocals), bassist Titos and drummer Chris — kind of sound like they’ve been hammering out this material for nine years. Or if not all nine, certainly some statistically significant portion of that span. That’s a complement to how dug-in Stoned Spirit are to their approach, satisfying in its atmosphere and movement alike, but mature as the songs feel they remain expressive in the stories they’re telling.

Stoned Spirit on Bandcamp

Stoned Spirit on Instagram

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Ravenswood, Rites of the Let Down

The two-song opening salvo of “Red Eyes in the Hollow” and “Oath of the Stream” doesn’t necessarily set you up for the full scope of Ravenswood‘s six-track debut album, Rites of the Let Down, which from those shorter and punchier pieces unfurls four longer, significantly-more-likely-to-be-called-“slabs” of doom leaning into psychedelia. The pairing of those two isn’t new, obviously, but Ravenswood make it feel dramatic as they reroute “Where You Won’t Be” or the willfully choppy title-track from darker processions into tripped-out jams — stark changes that are executed with remarkable fluidity and, in the case of the title-track, patience. “Holler Knows” might be where they find the middle-ground, but it’ll be another record or two before we know if that’s actually something they’re pursuing, and the post-grunge vocal melody and meme-ready last slowdown in closer “Solid Psychonaut” also bode well if we’re looking for things to bode. There’s room to grow and the production is raw, but Rites of the Let Down operates with individuality as part of its intention.

Ravenswood on Bandcamp

LINK

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Sum of R, Spectral

Maybe it’s somewhat counterintuitive, but in the pushing-out extremity of “Solace,” in the slow cinematic drones of “Cold Signtures,” in the synthy expanse of “Null” and the guitarrier (yeah I said that) reaches of “The Solution,” but what might be Sum of R‘s seventh album can be as stark, grim and desolate as it wants in “Agglomeration” with G. Stuart Dahlquist sitting in, and the penultimate “Violate” can hit a crescendo like what if post-black-metal-and-screamo-but-not-awful and it still to me just sounds like a celebration. There’s no getting away from it. Spectral is dark, and it often feels unremitting across its 49 punishment-prone minutes, but all of it is a celebration nonetheless — of creativity, of outsiderism, otherism, of searching for ideals beyond the mainstream and finding depth in places others would fear to go. It almost can’t help but be beautiful, otherwise consuming as the darkness is.

Sum of R website

Sum of R on Bandcamp

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Atomic Saman, Saman The Doom

Gritty stoner-doom nod pervades the debut release Saman The Doom from Shanghai-based trio Atomic Saman. Opener “Fuzzonaut” is instrumental, but after the Jeff Goldblum sample, “F.L.Y.” has vocals in its rolling, raw-tracked miasma. The grooves are loose as “F.L.Y.” plods into the bassy opening of nine-minute centerpiece “Torture Machine” (sample from A Clockwork Orange there) and the low-mixed stoner-chant is part of what unfolds, but Atomic Saman run deep in the addled ethereal, and “Torture Machine” and the subsequent, tops-10-minutes “Brain COP” keep immersion central, so it works. Closer “Weedsky (Live in CAVE)” is lumbering enough to make you think they actually went to a cave to capture it, and reveals something of an Electric Wizard influence underlying, but Atomic Saman are less horror and more red-eyed paranoia and that suits the exhausted-with-the-world disaffection as well as the trance factor here just fine.

Atomic Saman on Bandcamp

SloomWeep Productions on Bandcamp

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Moonstone, Age of Mycology

By the time they’re most of the way through sub-three-minute opener “A New Dawn” and the command is issued to, “Bow to mycelium cown,” I’m ready. With some rolling fluidity inherited perhaps from their countrymen in Dopelord and mellow vocals over purple-hued doomly fuzz, the lumber is strong with Kraków four-piece, who bring ambience alongside crush with the open spaces (gradually filled via tone) of “Glorious Decay,” the brash shove of “Primordial,” the daring toward ethereality of “This Barren Place,” and so on. “Disco Inferno” moves, but “Primordial” sprints, making for an interesting pair late, where back at the outset “Crooked One” and “Glorious Decay” bring moodier engrossing. It resolves, perhaps inevitably, with a 13-minute title-track that is a journey unto itself with multi-tiered solos, progressive expanse and a little flourish of goth in its verses. “Age of Mycology” fits as a summary for the LP that carries its name, with a speedier crescendo waiting after a murky slog to get there, righteously bleak but not hopeless. Dooming on their own wavelength, they are.

Moonstone on Bandcamp

Interstellar Smoke Records store

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Wooden Tape, Wool

A sampling experiment like “Alpine Pop” and the tuning-in-a-radio on “A Nutty and a Texan Bar Please,” the veering from “Saturday Morning” from serene meditation to harsher drone — these are just examples of the many ways in which Wooden Tape‘s Wool basks in the details. Songs like “The Moroccan House” and “Croxteth Hall,” the five-minute “Beneath the Weeping Willow Tree,” etc., have a foundation in blending often-acoustic guitar and electronics/synth, so there’s basically an infinity of room for UK-based solo artist Tim Maycox to explore whatever reaches he might choose. On “Kirby Market,” he imagines a kind of pastoralia with Mellotron and chimes, a thud behind for percussion, whereas it’s raining on “Laundrette Sunday” and the arrangement becomes a jangle of cascading elements, departing the strum of “Crescent Town” and seeming to cap the weekend conveyed through the tracks’ procession by packing a full day in the final 1:42. Some Sundays are like that.

Wooden Tape on Bandcamp

God Unknown Records Linktr.ee

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Heavy psych/prog rockers Abanamat release their second album, Abominat, on Oct. 17 through Interstellar Smoke Records. It is the Berlin four-piece’s follow-up to a well-received 2023 self-titled debut (review here) and is cleverly constructed well beyond the phonetic similarity between its title and the band’s name. Opening with “Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife,” which is both leadoff and the longest of the seven inclusions (immediate points), the band begin with a surprisingly languid fluidity, showing self-awareness in the use of ‘dream’ in the title for the sense of flow in the overarching lead guitar. Vocals come and go throughout the album, handled by guitarist Max Goetsch, but they start instrumental, and the clearly-conveyed intention is to immerse the listener in sound. There’s maybe some escapist element there — it’s a brightly-colored dream of Ms. Fisherman — but it’s the chemistry of the band that carries it, Goetsch and fellow guitarist Dima Zangiev joined in the rhythm section by bassist Pedro Pinheiro and drummer Tyler Pesek, who if they didn’t record live were close enough to it.

Side A works longest to shortest across the first three tracks, and “Blue Yonder” picks up where the evocations of “Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife” left off, but soon becomes a proggy shuffle with the first vocals of the record complementing a couple twisting verses before a re-mellowing brings it back to the intro, this time with watery vocal effects, and inevitably renews the shove. You know it’s coming, they know it’s coming, it’s still satisfying. Unless I have where the side split is wrong (possible), “Carpet Denim,” as opposed to ‘carpe diem,’ caps the first half of Abominat, with a fuller tonality and further reinforcement of some of My Sleeping Karma‘s Orientalist meditations. The all-in solo that takes it well past its midpoint and toward the riffy end feels like a precursor for the album-capper title-track, which as noted by the PR wire below has a guest appearance from Isaiah Mitchell (Earthless, Tranquonauts, etc.), providing a culmination for itself and the two songs prior before it’s done.

“Fossil Eyes” (say it out loud) brings hand-percussion to the record’s shortest cut as the guitar emphasizes minor-key delve. There’s more movement than one might expect, but it’s still primarily hypnotic, particularly as an instrumental. Side B, working shortest to longest across its first three songs with the title-track excepting itself from the rule to close, grows vibrant with the surge of “Zugzwang,” emphasizing groove even as the guitar goes a-universe-tearin’ once more. The arrival of vocals two minutes in is met by a denser riff that steps back to give space, but as with “Blue Yonder,” the voice is there and then gone and the band dig back in for the instrumental ending. I’m not sure one is more their element than the other, actually — voiced or not — but the way they flesh out parts is suited to letting the exploration happen without being called back to the start of a cycle every time a line of lyrics is done. The chugging finish of the penultimate “Saturnine,” comes after an Elder-style serenity is established and revealed as a build through its verses and solos.

And speaking of solos, “Abominat” follows. Its placement is somewhat odd considering the way the rest of the LP seems to be laid out in part by runtimes, but it makes sense once you hear the riff at the center of it and the swirl that surrounds. Mitchell‘s guest spot howls at the conclusion, and I guess it’s fair enough that Abanamat would put it in such a position of respect — to wit, it’s the last thing to go when the song is over — although the truth of the matter is that as regards guitar work, Goetsch and Zangiev have just about carried the album the whole time, and their stepping back from ‘finishing the job’ feels like a decision that sits “Abominat” almost as a bonus track in the progression of the record, separated from the rest of the proceedings by the banger adrenaline scorch of “Saturnine” and very much its own thing, less about the willful growth in sound Abanamat present throughout Abominat (including in the title-track) than what comes before it. That’s not a dig; it’s a ripper. It’s also something of a diversion.

But, one of the great strength of Abominat throughout its 41 minutes is that one doesn’t really know where a given track might end up when it starts out, and that’s true of the closer as well. Across the entire span, Abanamat come through like a band who have worked hard and pushed themselves to expand on what they did with the first record, and the material itself bears the fruit of that labor in its progressive, intricate style. Where they go from here, I don’t know, but I’ll be keen to find out when the time comes.

Abominat streams in full on the player below, followed by release info from the PR wire.

Please enjoy:

Based in Berlin, heavy psych and prog merchants ABANAMAT come from all over the globe, united to combine their sonic wizardry into a mainlined dose of sublime psychedelia.

2023’s debut self-titled planted their name in the sand, and the crew’s sophomore effort “Abominat” sees them embrace the blissful side of their psychedelia and flirt with their penchant for proggy shredding.

Dazzling guitarwork is again the centerpiece, weaving a tapestry of international influences across seven tracks. Vocals are sparse and let the instruments do the talking, creating a journey heavy on atmosphere and shimmering with spiraling riffs and airtight drumwork.

Upping the ante and awaiting listeners at the end of the trip is the final and title track, featuring the fiery guitarwork of none other than Earthless’ Isaiah Mitchell, who cranks up the fuzz for a barn burner of a send-off.

“Abominat” lands October 17th on Interstellar Smoke Records, and can be experienced live when ABANAMAT set out to tour Germany and neighboring countries in 2026.

ABANAMAT – Abominat
Album out October 17th, 2025
Interstellar Smoke Records (Digital, Vinyl, CD)
Berlin, Germany
FFO: Camel, Earthless, Diamond Head, Mulatu Astatke, Prince, Once and Future Band

Tracklist:
1. Dream of the fisherman’s Wife (7:13)
2. Blue Yonder (6:59)
3. Carpet Denim (6:05)
4. Fossil Eyes (4:49)
5. Zugzwang (5:20)
6. Saturnine (5:45)
7. Abominat (feat. Isaiah Mitchell) (5:07)

Recorded and mixed by Richard Behrens with additional recording by Fabien de Menou at Big Snuff Studio, Berlin, 2024.
Produced by Richard Behrens
Mastered by Carl Saff
Artwork by Sara Koncilja

ABANAMAT is:
Tyler Pesek – drums
Pedro Pinheiro – bass
Dima Zangiev – guitar
Max Goetsch – guitar/vocals

Abanamat on Bandcamp

Abanamat on Instagram

Abanamat on Facebook

Interstellar Smoke Records Linktr.ee

Interstellar Smoke Records store

Interstellar Smoke Records on Instagram

Interstellar Smoke Records on Facebook

There was some Bandcampy underground buzz around Abanamat‘s 2023 self-titled debut (review here), and where traditionally that would give momentum to a band’s next release — two years isn’t that long, after all — factors like the algorithm, international shipping restrictions and the general fickleness of attention spans make that less assured. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t.

But I’ll tell you this. I’ve got Abanamat‘s second album, Abominat (get it?) on for the first time while I write this — as one will when possible — and it’s a progressive twist on heavy exploration, moving towards identifiability in a piece like “Blue Yonder” with enough sinewy Earthless twisting to remind of that band’s various dalliances with structured verse/chorus songwriting. And if that comparison seems lazy, it is — I’d put My Sleeping Karma on the list of influences as well, if you require heavier critical lifting — but Isaiah Mitchell also sits in on the closing title-track, so it won’t be the last time you/they hear that, either. Certainly all that shred that so much abounds doesn’t hurt, whatever the source.

Looks like a vibrant ecosystem on the cover art, which along with the album info came down the PR wire thusly:

Berlin’s heavy psych wizards ABANAMAT to release sophomore album “Abominat” October 17th

Based in Berlin, heavy psych and prog merchants ABANAMAT come from all over the globe, united to combine their sonic wizardry into a mainlined dose of sublime psychedelia.

2023’s debut self-titled planted their name in the sand, and the crew’s sophomore effort “Abominat” sees them embrace the blissful side of their psychedelia and flirt with their penchant for proggy shredding.

Dazzling guitarwork is again the centerpiece, weaving a tapestry of international influences across seven tracks. Vocals are sparse and let the instruments do the talking, creating a journey heavy on atmosphere and shimmering with spiraling riffs and airtight drumwork.

Upping the ante and awaiting listeners at the end of the trip is the final and title track, featuring the fiery guitarwork of none other than Earthless’ Isaiah Mitchell, who cranks up the fuzz for a barn burner of a send-off.

“Abominat” lands October 17th on Interstellar Smoke Records, and can be experienced live when ABANAMAT set out to tour Germany and neighboring countries in 2026.

ABANAMAT – Abominat
Album out October 17th, 2025
Interstellar Smoke Records (Digital, Vinyl, CD)
Berlin, Germany
FFO: Camel, Earthless, Diamond Head, Mulatu Astatke, Prince, Once and Future Band

Tracklist:
1. Dream of the fisherman’s Wife (7:13)
2. Blue Yonder (6:59)
3. Carpet Denim (6:05)
4. Fossil Eyes (4:49)
5. Zugzwang (5:20)
6. Saturnine (5:45)
7. Abominat (feat. Isaiah Mitchell) (5:07)

ABANAMAT is:
Tyler Pesek – drums
Pedro Pinheiro – bass
Dima Zangiev – guitar
Max Goetsch – guitar/vocals

https://abanamat.bandcamp.com/
https://www.instagram.com/abanamat_band/
https://www.facebook.com/ABANAMAT.BAND/

https://linktr.ee/ISR666
https://interstellarsmokerecords.bigcartel.com/
https://www.instagram.com/interstellar.smoke.label/
https://www.facebook.com/Interstellar-Smoke-Records-101687381255396/

Abanamat, Abanamat (2023)

As Will Smith said once upon 30 years ago, “Welcome to ERF.” Thankfully, Polish weirdo-specialist psychedelic trio The Howling Eye offer a friendlier context for the welcome than punching an alien in the face, but their four-song/47-minute full-length has its own otherworldly aspects and moments. Issued through Interstellar Smoke, it is the band’s follow-up to 2023’s List Do Borykan (review here), and its 17-minute leadoff title/longest-track (immediate points) has been around longer than that, since it featured on the band’s 2024 live album, Riffields, which was recorded in 2022.

Temporal displacement? Think of it as a multidimensional theme for the record. Comprised of drummer/vocalist Hubert Cebula Lewandowski (also recording), bassist Miłosz Wojciechowski (also guitar) and guitarist/keyboardist Jan Chojnowski (also bouzouki, synth, recording), the latter of whom is listed as producer alongside Jacek Stasiak (who also adds alto sax and guest guitar throughout), the three-piece sound almost from the get-go like they’re working in their own time. A mix of birdsong and synth blips opens backing a pastoralist, King Buffalo-circa-“Orion”-style flow and resonance of guitar. “ERF” will ultimately parse into distinct movements, but as the far-back mellotron enters the mix and the likewise-dreamy first vocals arrive, the procession makes it absolutely clear that the band are in no hurry to go anywhere and, as melodic, drifting and welcoming as the opening few minutes of “ERF” are, that becomes the root of the challenge they issue their audience.

It’s not just about the songs being slow, but about the way The Howling Eye dwell in parts and execute their songs not just as jams or structured pieces, but as manifestations of place and time. As the initial build of “ERF” recedes to set up the next one (with sax) en route to the back-end stretch of speedier boogie-swirl and a return to the subdued to draw it down, the movement is hypnotic, sure, and as immersive as one would expect for a piece that leaves so much open room for the listener to put themselves. But if you come into it restless, or expecting something less molten in the flow that defines it, the gradual nature of their craft is going to test patience. Heavy psychedelia as meditation goal? Maybe. What ultimately makes it work is the inviting sound of “ERF” as the suitably-enough worldmaking lead-in for what follows in the likewise-all-caps “WEED,” “FIRE” and “MOC WIELKIEGO BUCHA,” the latter of which bookends at just under 14 minutes; the fact that as far out as The Howling Eye go, they adjust the context of normalcy to suit their craft.

They make their own kind of sense, in other words. Even the succession of “ERF,” “WEED,” “FIRE” — as opposed to, say Earth, Wind and Fire — plays a part in conveying the personality of the band, obviously not taking themselves too seriously, but at the same time telling a story as well. The stated theme for ERF reportedly derives from the life of Chris McCandless.

Known as the inspiration for the novel/film Into the Wild, McCandless was a ’90s-era offgridder, who left behind what probably would’ve been a mediocre suburban life in order to venture into the wilds of Alaska, where he died of apparent starvation due to a lack of actual survival skills. His story has been romanticized by naturalists, and not without reason. On some level, even if you feel like it’s a question of your own survival, it takes courage to leave behind the life you’ve been told you want for, well, your entire life. That it ended with McCandless dead alone on an abandoned bus in the middle of nowhere is secondary; he went out on his own terms and that’s not nothing.

The lesson The Howling Eye seem to take from this is accordingly working toward their own goals from their own point of view. Rather than sublimate their experience of time or the impulses that drive their songwriting, they portray an honest, unpretentious weirdoism as “ERF” gives over to the acoustic-but-grows-shouty-and-loud-later “WEED,” which leans willfully, rightly, into its guest-harmonica-laced hook in a ’90s-type singalong that’s part MTV Unplugged but that they let get entrancing and psychedelic before they turn it around and click on the clarion distortion, well doomed as it reveals an Electric Wizard lumber that it turns out was in the song the entire time. With this, they flatten and scorch — still distorted in time as well as tone — but as it will also at another, non-human timescale, “FIRE” is a reset, balancing drift and low-end heft across its six and a half minutes such that the restlessness that emerges in the guitar gets smacked with the return of the alto sax and a clear silence precedes the arrival of “MOC WIELKIEGO BUCHA.”

With its title translated to English as ‘The Power of the Big Bang,’ “MOC WIELKIEGO BUCHA” might just be the source of the rest of what’s happening throughout ERF, or at very least, its roomy exploration and heavy repetitions give an appropriate summary of a lot of what has worked best in the other material while enacting a more dramatic build that, as it would, takes time to reside in its minimalist reaches before they arrive at a more traditional payoff toward the conclusion. The returning vocals after “FIRE” have a grounding effect, and lend emotion to that last volume swell and nod as the band make their way toward and into the finish. They let it go all the way to silence and there’s a clip of some laughter echoing, but that’s it.

Imagine being able to have a conversation with trees. The record’s kind of like that. It happens on a wavelength of time that, for many brains, will be pointedly incongruous with modern life. And this, we see, becomes how the band’s theme manifests in the material itself. It is about stepping outside of norms or expectations, maybe even putting your (my) phone down for a minute or 47 in order to have a lived experience, yes, but more to be transposed from one place to another by art. The Howling Eye aren’t without their indulgent aspects — I’m sorry, but that’s the nature of a 17-minute-long song; I don’t make the rules — but the potential rewards for those who can follow where they lead far outstrip the effort required to actually hear what they’re doing.

The Howling Eye, ERF (2025)

The Howling Eye Linktr.ee

The Howling Eye on Bandcamp

The Howling Eye on Instagram

The Howling Eye on Facebook

Interstellar Smoke Records Linktr.ee

Interstellar Smoke Records store

Interstellar Smoke Records on Instagram

Interstellar Smoke Records on Facebook

Ahead of the Aug. 25 release of their Interstellar Smoke Records-backed debut album, We Are Social Creatures — speak for yourself; I’m more the stare-at-laptop-and-not-talk-to-anybody type — winning-at-names Polish psych rockers CTRL+Z have posted “Warling” as the second single from the LP. The first track set for publish streaming was “Cockroach,” and that had a similar jammy foundation, but worked itself into a mathier tizzy than does “Warling,” which gives hints of an underlying heavy psychedelic influence while remaining thoroughly, delightfully restless.

In case, like me, you have no idea what the date is, Aug. 25 is in like a week and a half. In the parlance of Mystery Science Theater 3000: “the not-too-distant future.” Just something worth pointing out when album announcements sometimes are months in advance.

Info and both singles follow, courtesy of the PR wire:

CTRL+Z – The psychedelic-stoner quartet from Łódź (Poland) presents their second single ‘Warling’

Streaming: https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/ctrlz8/warling

The single announces the release of the debut album “We Are Social Creatures”
Release date: 25th August 2025
Interstellar Smoke Records

CTRL+Z is a psychedelic stoner rock band rising not from the California sands, but from the cobblestones of Łódź—post-industrial grayness, chaos, and city dust instead of a desert horizon. Their roots lie in jam sessions—psychedelic, unbridled improvisations that give rise to the first sketches of songs. Compositions take shape intuitively before reaching the studio for mixing and mastering.

‘Warling’ is the second single from CTRL+Z. It’s an expressive portrayal of an internal struggle with unhealthy idealism. It’s a story about grappling with the quiet, merciless voice of the inner critic, who is never fully satisfied, no matter how much effort we put into our work, always picking out the cracks and imperfections.

‘The creative process can be marked by a wave of doubts about the value of one’s work. Even if it ends with a moment of satisfaction, the next stage awaits just around the corner – new challenges and another attempt.’ – that’s who CTRL+Z describes their single ‘Warling’.

The single ‘Warling’ announces the band’s first album, “We Are Social Creatures,” which is scheduled for release thanks to Interstellar Smoke Records on September 25, 2025.

CTRL+Z’s music is a journey. We travel with the band through the cobblestone dunes of the urban landscape, where stoner sounds meet influences of hard rock, heavy psych, and even thrash metal. It draws inspiration from bands like Kyuss and Psychedelic Porn Crumpets, from which CTRL+Z draw inspiration to forge their own paths.

CTRL+Z formed in Łódź (Poland) in 2021. To date, they have only released the EP “Live At CPXZ” in 2024, which recorded their performance at the Cyrk Pod Zielonym Xiężycem club.

CTRL+Z:
Paweł Leszczyński – drums
Mateusz Ulański – guitar
Karol Bukowski – guitar
Martyn Gill – bass

https://ctrlplusz.bandcamp.com/
https://www.instagram.com/ctrlz_band
https://www.facebook.com/ctrlzpl
https://www.youtube.com/@pleasepressctrlz

CTRL+Z, “Warling”

CTRL+Z, “Cockroach”

Day three marks the halfway point of this Quarterly Review, unless I decide to sneak in an extra day next Monday. We’ll see on that, but things are moving pretty well so far, so I might just be content to take the win and start slating the next one. Always a choice to be made there.

I hope you’ve found something that hits you thus far, and if not, check the below, because there’s a pretty wide variety of styles under the ‘heavy underground’ umbrella here. Hope one or a few or everything clicks.

We proceed.

Quarterly Review #21-30:

Randall Huth, Torched and Coasting

Though he’s probably best known at this point for playing bass in Pissed Jeans for the last 17 years, Pennsylvania’s Randall Huth once-upon-the-aughts played guitar and handled vocals in still-missed pastoral heavy rockers Pearls and Brass, and the new solo EP under his own name will likely be more than enough to trigger nostalgia in remembering that. Torched and Coasting is somewhere between an EP and a follow-up to Huth‘s 2007 solo album as Randall of Nazareth on Drag City, and the self-released tape is clear in its intention, conveying sketches like the finger-plucked movements of “Emptied/Rarified” and “Bursting Smile” and 15-minute closer plunge “Torched and Coasting,” which tube-screams late so stick with it, alongside the drone-meets-zither “The Blind Whale,” and more terrestrial, guitar-and-vocals pieces like opener “Lost in Your Eyes” and the penultimate “Beats Dying,” which — you guessed it — is about getting old. Huth‘s echoing and soft delivery, wit in the lyrics and humble acoustic presentation make that a highlight, but this years-in-the-making offering walks more than a single expressive path. More songs, whatever ‘songs’ means, please. Thanks.

Randall Huth on Bandcamp

Pearls and Brass on Bandcamp

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HolyRoller, Rat King

North Carolinian four-piece HolyRoller make their label-debut on Ripple Music with the eight-song Rat King, which puts modern heavy in a blender such that an early piece like “Crunch Riff Supreme” finds its place in sludge rock and heralds screamy things to come but by the time they’ve gotten to “Buried Alone” at the presumed outset of side B, the flow has more in common with Pallbearer than Weedeater or Sleep, who are another key underlying influence. But the emphasis there should be on ‘underlying’ as HolyRoller step beyond the bands that inspired them in fostering progressive songwriting throughout these 35 minutes, with a richly flexible sound — “Heave Ho” sounds like slower Howling Giant, “Forbidden Things” like Spaceslug — and a push into the ether in “Radiating Sacred Light” before they round out with the Clutch-y bounce of “Drift Into the Sun” to highlight the individuality in where they take their approach. The organic production helps it feel like they’re really digging in, but also they are.

HolyRoller on Bandcamp

Ripple Music website

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Black Mynah, Worried ‘Bout Madame

Worried ‘Bout Madame is the third long-player from Polish heavy post-rock/psych-gaze outfit Black Mynah, and it would seem to be the first since founding vocalist, bassist and baritone guitarist Joanna Kucharska assembled a full-band lineup around herself and drummer Paweł Rucki, who also appeared on 2020’s II. Vocalist/synthesist Aleksandra Joryn and guitarist Marcin Lawendowski join the stylistically subversive proceedings here, with the garage jangle of “Colleen” at the outset pushed into the frenetic shuffle and hard distortion of “Damaged Goods” ahead of the sweet post-punk verse of “Float,” which has its own grungey volatility. The tonal weight thrown around in closer “Looking at You, Kid,” — not to mention the vocal layering — isn’t unprecedented on the album that comes before it, but “Blue Moon” is more about catching up with the insistence of its snare drum and “The Rite” has its own thing going too with the quieter creeper swing and satisfying wash that pays it off. It won’t be for everybody, but who the hell ever wanted to be?

Black Mynah on Bandcamp

Black Mynah streaming links

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Coltsblood, Obscured Into Nebulous Dusk

Last heard from with their before-times 2019 split LP with Un, English death-doom churners Coltsblood make a welcome return with the four-song Obscured Into Nebulous Dusk, their third album overall, first for Translation Loss Records and first in eight years. The years have not been wasted in the sound of bassist/vocalist John McNulty (also keys), guitarist Jemma McNulty and drummer Jay Plested, who foster a ‘beauty in darkness’ sensibility on opener/longest track (immediate points) “Until the Eidolon Falls” before the outright slaughter of “Waning of the Wolf Moon” pushes death metal tempo off a cliff of feedback and raw scathe. “Transcending the Immortal Gateway” makes its presence felt with the mournful lead line topping its later reaches, and “Obscured into Nebulous Dusk” bids farewell in a not-dissimilar fashion, but the particularly agonized vocals prior are a distinguishing feature. Time would seem to have done little to dull the band’s overarching extremity, and so much the better for that.

Coltsblood on Bandcamp

Translation Loss Records website

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Void King, The Hidden Hymnal: Chapter II

The two-years-later follow-up to Indianapolis doom rockers Void King‘s 2023 long-player, The Hidden Hymnal (review here), the seven-song The Hidden Hymnal: Chapter II indeed seems to dig into its own kind of storytelling. The proceedings make for a rousing flow, with the two longest tracks, “The Birth of All Things” (8:49) and “A Union of Expired Souls” (9:34) paired at the outset for a duly epic opening statement. I don’t know if they’re a vinyl side on their own or not, but their separation from the rest of the LP is underscored by the remaining three tracks being sandwiched by a “Prologue” and “Epilogue,” so that the burly progressive metal and heavy rock of “Attrition,” “Convalescence” and “Expiration” feel like their own mini-album on the second side. If this wraps up the The Hidden Hymnal cycle for Void King, then the structural nuance here is fair enough, but the real story of the record is the progression of the band itself, which is ongoing.

Void King on Bandcamp

Argonauta Records website

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Bifter, First Impressions of Hell

Harnessing stoner metal largesse, doomed thematics and an aggro posture for the delivery that adds to the gnashing feel of the material overall, Bifter‘s debut album, First Impressions of Hell, is a torrential, ferocious offering that hits you on multiple levels before you even realize what’s happened. Interludes, the album intro “Enter Hell” and “Lover’s Quarrel,” the sample in “Mercy” and the post-script “Time to Kill” after “Ball of Burning Snakes” and the seven-minute “Belly of the Beast” give an atmospheric feel, but part of what makes “Doom Shroom” and “March of the Imp” so effective is their directness, so First Impressions of Hell, among the impressions made, can count face-punch in its number. The foundation is metal, but the affect is a party, and however weighted the material gets throughout the 36 minutes of its 12 tracks, Bifter are consistently able to convey a feeling of movement and forward momentum along with all their destructive intent.

Bifter links

Bifter on Bandcamp

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Fish Basket, And His Second Album

Write off Poland’s Fish Basket at your own peril. Yeah, they’ve got the cartoonish art and the silly vibe and the sense of rampant chicanery of sound and nonsense, but check out the proggy push of “Robots” on Fish Basket and His Second Album and the way they suddenly pull the plug on the whole thing and drop to deep-breathing, or the shouts worked into opener “NA-HU-HA-NE” and the birdsong in the psych-drifting “Farewells and Returns,” gorgeous as it is before it looses a bit of crush and winds up in classic heavy psych to end. These and myriad other moments throughout — the folkish strum of “Imaginarium” from some unknown tradition, maybe the band’s own, brought to the head of a linear build with a comedown to finish — work on the Frank Zappa model of progressive rock, which is to say that while shenanigans abound, the trio have the technical chops to back up everything they’re doing, and whether it’s the fuzzblaster of “Cardboard Racer” or the sub-nine-minute meander of “Stray in Chill,” Fish Basket carry the listener from one end of the album to another with deceptive ease. Warning: it might be genius.

Fish Basket on Bandcamp

Interstellar Smoke Records store

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Woodhawk, Love Finds a Way

Calgary-based trio Woodhawk — guitarist/vocalist Turner Midzain, bassist/vocalist Mike Badmington and drummer Kevin Nelson — offer a sharply-constructed, professional-grade nine songs across the 53 minutes of their third full-length, the encouragingly-titled Love Finds a Way. The organ adds a classic feel to “Strangers Ever After” early in the going, and the fullness and clarity of the surrounding production only increases the trust in the band’s songwriting, which isn’t without aesthetic ambitions despite the straightforward tack, cuts like “Truth Be Told,” “White Crosses” and the dares-to-shimmy-in-the-middle title-track have as solid an underpinning of groove as one could ever reasonably ask. The melody over top in the vocals and guitar shines through accordingly. They’re plenty dug-in, of course, and any record that’s going to push past the 50-minute mark in 2025 better have some perspective to offer, but Woodhawk do. I don’t know if it’ll be enough to save the world, but at least somebody out there is putting love out front with their riffage, duly engaging as that is.

Woodhawk website

Woodhawk on Bandcamp

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Liminal Spirit, Pathways

Pathways is a single-song, just-under-14-minute EP from Milwaukee’s Liminal Spirit, the darkly progressive apparent-solo-project of Jerry Hauppa, who embodies a number of characters in the narrative throughout. Presented on a quick turnaround from the band’s late-2024 self-titled debut LP, the one-tracker nonetheless reaffirms the ambitions of the album before it, while also reinforcing the idea of Liminal Spirit as a still-growing, still-discovering-its-sound outfit. The vocals here, intended to embody multiple archetypal characters like The Patriarch, The Child, The Artisan, The Elder and The Apprentice, come through a vocoder-type treatment, and so where multiple points of view might otherwise be fleshed out and conveyed, the voice remains singular. This is the tradeoff for the intimacy of solo creativity, but one gets the sense from “Pathways” and the self-titled that Liminal Spirit is just beginning to explore the stylistic territory the band will ultimately cover.

Liminal Spirit on Bandcamp

Liminal Spirit on Facebook

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Clarity Vision, Deep Ocean

To follow their 2023 self-titled debut EP (on Addicted Label), Moscow-based doom rocker four-piece Clarity Vision present “Deep Ocean” (or, in Cyrillic:
“Глубокий океан”), a six-minute standalone single that soon makes its way via cymbal-wash from its beginning waves and quiet guitar into a procession of stately classic doom metal, big on swing and bigger on impact. The kind of riff that would make Leif Edling smile. Galina Shpakovskaya‘s voice is suited to the movement of the riffs, floating over with melodic echo but keeping a mystique that reminds of mid-period The Wounded Kings, when all was dark and mystery. Guitarist Alexey Roslyakov, bassist Alexey Roslyakov and drummer Mikhail Markelov hold the march steady for the duration, and although I’ve never come close to knowing even the slightest bit of Russian, Clarity Vision remind that we all speak the same language when it comes to being completely and utterly doomed.

Clarity Vision links

Addicted Label links

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Comprised of Piotr Aleksander Nowak on nyckelharpa and vocals and drummer Katarzyna Bobik, who also adds vocals and various percussive whatnot, the Kraków-set two-piece Jarzmo have released their debut album, Antropocen through Interstellar Smoke Records, with an aim toward bringing together traditional Polish folk elements with the groove and tonal presence of heavy rock and roll.

It’s not an idea without conceptual precedent — I can’t think of another specifically Polish outfit who’ve done the same, but countries like Finland and Spain have certainly managed successful folk/heavy fusions, and there’s the entire genre of folk metal itself, if you want to talk about that — but the sound of the nyckelharpa brings an unique range of tones to Antropocen‘s dense-feeling 11-track/52-minute course, and Nowak and Bobik incorporate live sessions and guests into the proceedings, so in addition to their own ability to explore different ideas in songwriting — without which I expect the band wouldn’t exist in the first place; the whole idea is an experiment — and shifts between instrumental and periodic vocal arrangements and outwardly heavier distortion like “Court Dances” that makes for such a highlight, there are layers of change to be found throughout.

This makes Antropocen a work of scope as much as it’s proof-of-concept for what Jarzmo are doing aesthetically. Would you be surprised if I told you “Twin Peaks” reminded me a bit of the Melvins? Probably you shouldn’t be.

Info came down the PR wire, but it’s the audio you want here. If you don’t want the Bandcamp player, the streaming link is right under the headline below. Can’t miss it. If you’ve got thoughts on what you’re hearing and want to share in the comments, I’m curious to know for sure:

JARZMO – Debut Album of the polish stoner etno duo “Antropocen”

Streaming link: https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/jarzmo/antropocen

Emerging from a fusion of medieval resonance and modern grit, Jarzmo’s debut album, “Antropocen”, unveils 11 progressive compositions that blend stoner rock/metal with folk sounds.

This ethno-stoner duo Jarzmo is based in Kraków. They center their music around the unique tones of the nyckelharpa (or keyboard viola), played by Piotr Aleksander Nowak, who also provides vocals. The beat and pulse come from Katarzyna Bobik on drums, who completes the duo with her distinct vocal contributions.

With each track, “Antropocen” explores the pressing themes of today’s world, addressing issues like overproduction, overpopulation, and the climate crisis, encapsulating the challenges of our overstimulated, technology-dependent era.

Jarzmo’s sound takes listeners into a pre-apocalyptic realm—one that is foggy, cold, and heavy with electronic waste, yet echoing with the spirit of traditional folk.

https://www.facebook.com/wearejarzmo
https://www.instagram.com/_jarzmo_/
https://jarzmo.bandcamp.com/
https://tiny.pl/c6p1p
https://www.youtube.com/@jarzmomusic
http://www.vinted.pl/member/148484276-jarzmoekomerch

https://www.facebook.com/Interstellar-Smoke-Records-101687381255396/
https://www.instagram.com/interstellar.smoke.label/
https://interstellarsmokerecords.bigcartel.com/
https://linktr.ee/ISR666

Jarzmo, Antropocen (2024)

This week marks the release date of Morpholith‘s Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics, the Icelandic cosmic doomers’ awaited debut album on Interstellar Smoke Records after the successful heraldry of two prior EPs. And while it’s true it’s been four years since the arrival of the second of those, the Null Dimensions EP (review here), they say that when you hang out so close to the singularity of a black hole time dilates in unpredictable ways, so those close to Morpholith may have experienced that wait as thousands of years, a few days, who the hell knows. Time is fun pretend to start with and gradually the whole universe will be eaten by the lug of “Dismalium” anyway, so I promise you it doesn’t matter. Long-term, nothing will. The arc of history bends toward oblivion.

Morpholith‘s first album — and it’s worth unpacking the title a little as they do below: we’re talking about a scenario in which some public actor, presumably a governmental body of some post-apocalyptic kind, has begun manufacturing and handing out drugs to a populace, one assumes as a salve for despair or escapism?; hard to know, but it’s not impossible they got the name of the record from the tv; people say all kinds of silly shit on there — isn’t an event in terms of advance-hype, but it stands as a cosmic doom testament to the physical presence of aural heft. The Ufomammut-circa-Eve-worthy combination of heavy and space in the payoff of 10-minute opener “Mountainous,” the plunge into wash that song takes before, gloriously, reemerging from an ether that would indeed consume so many other, many longer-tenured, bands, and the well justified bellow that accompanies tell you early on that the five-piece are onto something special, and yes, they are. The shorter “Narcofactory” becomes a kind of echo-laced gothic doomy volcano-produced obsidian rock and “Metabaron” resolves in lumber with a scorching solo for the transition, but starts out at a galloping pace that’s about as close as Morpholith come to rush, and “Psychosphere” makes it plain that runtime here is about more than just pace; as bombastic as it gets, it’s the slowdown that finishes it off.

But by the end of “Psychosphere,” and really by the start of it, Morpholith have masterfully subsumed the listener in their tonality, breadth and atmosphere. They’ve shifted through tempo — somewhat; remember that sounding monolithic is part of the point here — and showed the reach in the guitars of Hörður and Víðir‘s guitars, the density and roll of bassist Gestur and drummer Jónas and the ability of vocalist Snæbjörn to shift between morose crooning, lower shouts and full-on sludge metal growls to coincide with a given part. Like YOB, Morpholith are as much about the far-out as a sonic smother, and the scope of longer pieces continues to expand from where the opener leaves off, with “Hellscaper,” which is just as nasty as you please until it shows a sliver of mercy in the second-half payoff, or the closing pair of the aforementioned “Dismalium,” which has room in its cavernous mix to drop slow-rhythm bomb tones in its engrossing final nod and the 16-minute clearly-marked-exit “Exoportal,” which answers back to the noted reemergence-from-chaos in “Mountainous” and moves into the fade on its own, organ-topped — both songs feature guest keys from Arnaldur Ingi Jónsson, also of prog shufflers Lady in Blue and the only performer here to list a surname — finish backed by residual hum from the guitars and bass.

It’s not a minor undertaking at about an hour long, but Morpholith give the listener places to dwell in that time and have a dynamic that goes beyond me-likey-loud-band-play-slow. A lot of what makes Dystopian Distribution of Mass Produced Narcotics — and really, we should be so lucky; in the US they’d charge for them — so effective as a front-to-back listen is that its roil and churn define it while not actually being all the double-guitar five-piece does in terms of mood, ambience, whatever you want to call it. To be sure, we’re talking about Very, Very Heavy™-level heavy, the kind of heavy that becomes a calling card for an act as it has for some of those mentioned above, but I’ll tell you the truth of where I’m at with it: this is one of the best albums I’ve heard in 2024, in addition to being one of the best debut albums — it’s in my notes twice over, which doesn’t always happen — and it heralds what could become a significant presence in cosmic doom. And because I’d feel remiss if I didn’t pay this particular hyper-specific compliment: hearing it reminds me of how excited I was in 2013 when Mühr (from whence sprang Temple Fang) released their own debut, Messiah (discussed here). If you have any idea how I feel about that record even now, you’ll know that’s not something I say lightly or without reason.

A couple years in the making, you’ll find Dystopian Distribution of Mass Produced Narcotics streaming in full on the player below, followed by more background from the PR wire on the concept, recording credits, etc.

Please enjoy:

Album recording process started in Reykjavík in 2022 with most of the record being recorded in Studio Paradís with Ásmundur Jóhannsson (Sleeping Giant) with some alterations and overdubs done in Stúdíó Helvíti with Helgi Durhuus (Ottoman, Celestine) in 2023. It was mixed by Chris van der Valk (CXVIII and Grave Superior) and Mastered by Chris Fielding (Conan) at Foel Studios in the UK.

The album’s artwork was done by Ryan T Hancock and layout by Skaðvaldur.

The album’s theme explores the implications of a dystopian galactic empire and how psychoactive stimulants are manufactured on a planetary scale in such a society. Among other things.

The album is a continuation and a more evolved version of what we set out with our two previous EP’s, who both round up to half an hour each, the full length debut is a full hour in length and is the culmination of what we have learned as a band since we first started.

Tracklist:
01 Mountainous (10:26)
02 Psychosphere (6:07)
03 Narcofactory (4:22)
04 Hellscaper (9:21)
05 Metabaron (3:53)
06 Dismalium (10:23)
07 Exoportal (16:07)

The album will be released on the 24th of October 2024 on Interstellar Smoke Records as a double LP gatefold record with two variants of pressing methods.

Album Lineup:
Gestur – Bass
Hörður – Guitar
Jónas – Drums
Snæbjörn – Vocals
Víðir – Guitar

Guest Musician:
Arnaldur Ingi Jónsson (Lucy In Blue) – Organ on Mountainous and Exoportal

Morpholith, “Metabaron” official video

Morpholith, “Psychosphere” official video

Morpholith on Facebook

Morpholith on Instagram

Morpholith on YouTube

Morpholith on Bandcamp

Interstellar Smoke Records on Bandcamp

Interstellar Smoke Records webstore

Interstellar Smoke Records on Facebook

Interstellar Smoke Records on Instagram