Posted in Whathaveyou on August 31st, 2026 by JJ Koczan
It’s been 11 years since Swedish classic heavy rockers Old Man’s Will made their debut with Hard Times – Troubled Man (review here), part of a Heavy ’10s surge of boogie blues riffery distinguished in songwriting and nod. The years since have brought changes to the band in terms of lineup, but the core mission as revealed with “Meet Me at Sundown,” the first single streaming from the aptly-titled new album, At Last, remains classy and fluid, vintage in intention more than production as it makes striking a difficult balance sound easy through sheer vitality of the performance.
“Meet Me at Sundown” is the opening cut of the record, which is out Oct. 9 through the multinational dreamteam consortium of Small Stone Records and Kozmik Artifactz, and it makes no bones about where it’s coming from either in terms of influence or scope. Tight in structure but loose in vibe, it once again rises to the challenge of standing the band out against a crowded underground.
The PR wire has details:
OLD MAN’S WILL: Swedish Rock Alchemists To Release At Last Full-Length October 9th Via Small Stone Recordings; New Track Streaming + Preorders Available
Swedish hard rock outfit OLD MAN’S WILL will release their At Last full-length October 9th via Small Stone Recordings.
Hailing from Umeå, OLD MAN’S WILL is known for their blues-infused sound and energetic live performances. The band channels the spirit of 1970s hard rock and blues rock acts like Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, and Humble Pie, with a retro twist. Their music is described as brash, bluesy, and riff-driven, with a mix of classic rock grooves and modern zest.
Indeed, real rock ‘n’ roll requires a little bit of mystique, a little bit of swagger, and a little bit of trouble for good measure. OLD MAN’S WILL possesses all three of those ingredients in spades. Leaving home for college back in 2011 first seemed a good reason to quit music and focus on school but instead it became the opposite for close friends Klas Holmgren (guitars), Gustav Kejving (drums), and Tommy Nilsson (bass), laying the foundation for OLD MAN’S WILL. With the addition of the unmistakable vocals of Benny Åbergs, the band was formed and went straight from the studio to touring Europe through something possibly best described as a Spinal Tap-like extravaganza. Fortunately, the situation straightened a bit down the line, and with mounting enthusiasm after having signed record deals in both Europe and later the US, things suddenly felt like they were “going to eleven” for some time. There was a regrettable turn of events however, beginning with the delayed release of their second album which resulted in cancelled tours and lost momentum. Meanwhile, life got in the way, followed by the pandemic, and suddenly reality hit the band in the face in that typical way only musicians may experience.
After struggling with finding a new path forward, new members Simon Lundin (drums) and Michael Åberg (bass) arrived with the ambition to hit the studio to record that third album. The new sound of OLD MAN’S WILL – more back to basics – had slowly been evolving and the spark was finally lit again following a set of memorable live performances, including opening for Graveyard. While still leaning on a heavily guitar-riff-driven basis, the love for creating strong melodies and songs echoes even more evidently in what has become OLD MAN’S WILL signature sound, now embodied in the long awaited third album, At Last.
At Last was recorded at Studio Spiff, Mullberget, Skellefteå, and Ultraljud Studios, engineered by Anthon Johansson, amplified by Sven Dahlquist, mixed by Frans Hägglund at Riddarborgen Studios, and Mastered by Magnus Lindberg at The Vilhelm Room, all in Stockholm, Sweden.
The record will be released on CD and digital formats as well LP in conjunction with Germany’s Kozmik Artifactz (180g vinyl, Ltd. 200 on White + Blue Splatter).
Posted in Reviews on August 13th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Some off-laptop bumps and unpleasantness yesterday, but nothing to actually derail this process, just to make it both less efficient and less pleasant. I’m grateful for that. Life happens, and what I’ve learned is that there are two ways to be a “lifer” in music or any kind of anything, and the easier and often more celebrated one is to not have a life. “Oh so and so is such a lifer they’ve toured for 30 years and never got famous.” Cool bro. Go coregulate an hour-long throw-furniture tantrum, still manage to handle your business on your own terms, and then call me. The harder-core lifer has a life beyond the work they’re doing, whatever that may be and whatever Gen-X ‘punk legends’ might tell you otherwise.
Today is the penultimate day of the Quarterly Review, bringing us — you, cool, serene, the picture of grace, and me, a sweaty cavetroll of middle age — closer to the stated goal of 50 releases covered by tomorrow. At this point, I like our chances, but you never know what’s coming until you get there. So let’s get there before declaring victory.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Child, Rebirth
I’m not sure there’s anybody out there right now who does heavy blues as bluesy as Melbourne, Australia’s Child, and even as their fourth full-length, Rebirth, shifts the balance the ‘rock’ end of blues rock, the emphasis on soul remains strong and central in their work. The album runs 35 minutes and six songs, and with no small task in following up 2023’s Soul Murder (review here), the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Mathias Northway, bassist Rhys Kelly and drummer Michael Lowe bring clarity of purpose to material like “Forgot How to Love,” which takes a desert rock riff to the mud, or the catchy four-minute “Heavy Load.” Working in slow tempos isn’t new for Child — they cook, and good cooking takes time — but they’re still able to make “I Tried (Newy)” move under its fuzzy-as-hell solo, while opener/longest track (immediate points) “Woman Like You” sets the stage for tales of heartbreak, boozehounding and other vaguely self-destructive whathaveyou. Northway is an ace on guitar and carries the vocals well, but I’ll put this rhythm section up against just about anybody out there when it comes to sleek, gradual groove. Not a ton of surprises, but still satisfying.
Regular collaborator Martin Weaver (Wicked Lady, etc.) handles bass while Tom Ashurst (ex-Hawklords) steps in on guitar and Darren Butler takes up drum duties — all of a sudden, opening track “Shouldn’t You Do It?” (18:24) makes it seem like synthmaster and Øresund Space Collective bandleader/producer Scott “Dr. Space” Heller has a whole band together for Dr. Space’s Wicked Sonic Bulls, the four-song/70-miinute outing that isn’t even his latest at this point but is an immersive joy just the same. The drums bring flow to the float, and Heller‘s e’er-molten synthery is sit-and-take-it-all-in hypnotic, weaving drones behind the dream-tone of Ashurst‘s guitar as the band dynamic takes shape. Of course, the fades-in, goes-everywhere, comes-apart-at-the-end closer “The Underside of Your Tongue” (29:56) is a focal point, and feels daring in terms of tempo even with “Splasing, Lashing, Flashing” (10:43) as preface, but the mood across the almost-certainly-entirely-improvisational outing is, duh, exploratory, and nothing in the resultant material takes away from that. Comforting and rad in kind. Put headphones on and get yourself lost.
The largesse in “Bones” and the dudely swagger of “Rumblestrip” puts Bones squarely in the realm of modern capital-‘h’ Heavy, and Chicagoan four-piece Shadow of Jupiter revel in it accordingly. “Riot Dogs” is cavernous and crushing, while “Whatever God You Fear” moves faster like a beefed-up High Desert Queen but holds to the thickness overarching the seven-song entirety here as the band play to multiple sides here, and while I’m not sure what role faith actually plays in their craft, closer “For Heaven Above” feels duly downtrodden and tired of humanity and is Sabbath-rooted beneath all its tonal hugeness, through which the melodic vocals cut smoothly as they have all along. Burl is a factor, but the songwriting is there beneath the well-produced bluster, and though the prevailing impression is in its sheer heft, Shadow of Jupiter hone a sense of dynamic as they plunge into their own distortion and gravitational nod. Bones is their first album for Ripple Music and second overall, and it sure feels like they nailed it in terms of stepping up to the moment.
Three jams, each hovering on either side of 20 minutes, contemplative and following the stated narrative of casting off mundane woes — busted cars, jobs, etc. — to escape for a bit into the ether. Pseudopredestinated is day-in-the-life psychedelic improvisation, featuring familiar players from the Psychedelic Source Records stable in Bence Ambrus on guitar, Gergely Szabó and David Strausz splitting bass duties and Máte Varga on drums, coming together to headfirst-dive into the aural unknown and see where they end up. In “Protoplanetarian,” that’s a noisier and more active space to answer the graceful build of opener “Precambriality,” and closer “Postpurposes” builds on the low-key shred and pushes further into the far-out. It’s emblematic fare for the Psychedelic Source Records collective, thematically and musically — yes, that is a compliment — and if you find yourself looking also to indulge a bit of escapism from your own mind, immersion awaits. Part of the joy here is never knowing quite where you’ll end up but going, going, going.
Well, you’re a ’70s-sounding heavy rock band with a strong emphasis on Hammond organ, so yes, people are going to say you sound like Deep Purple. The good news is that swinging Montreal five-piece Fangus are too busy dug into their own might-pivot-to-the-next-boogie-at-any-moment, vibe-dense sound to show they care much at all, and a ripper like “Pyre of Love” stands as evidence of this. Keys are a big part of what they do — that Mellotron on the title-track, the organ taking the fore on “Psychoid Telepath,” and so on — but the crunching tone of the guitar and the gutted-out vocals are no less vintage in their mindset, and while I don’t know that it was all recorded live, the band-in-the-room feel is palpable, ditto the chemistry, and that suits them both in the shove of “Time Gambler” and the burgeoning progressivism of “Quest for Fire,” the album as a whole rarely diverting from its sense of movement. Once “Howling Hammer” picks up from establishing its riff, they’re on their way and show little interest in looking back, refusing to be beholden even to the reverence in their sound as they convey freedom and breakout.
With two full-lengths and numerous singles/two-songers to their credit since 2019, Amsterdam psychedelic progressive rockers Hollow Drifter sound duly comfortable dwelling somewhere between the two on Colours in Time, on which the first and last tracks — “Morning Fog” (2:27) and “Cradlesong” (1:48) — complement and enhance the atmosphere of the 14-minute centerpiece, “Seasons, Ages, Legends…,” which tinges toward alt rock momentarily but feels warm and organic in its acoustic-guitar foundations even as it grows more lush with the introduction of electrics. The extended piece ebbs and flows but remains purposeful for the duration, and after the first, willfully gorgeous build ends after six minutes, they remain in control in terms of the direction they’re headed, subtly building again toward repetitions of the EP’s title-lyric over nuanced noodling and steady, tense drums that give hints of the unfolding about to take place as they move into the solo. The harmonized folk of “Morning Fog” and acoustic strum/keys of “Cradlesong” fit and flesh out the atmosphere, and as this is my first experience with the band, the message of homework to do is almost as clear as the evocations of the music itself. Get pastoral.
Keyed for onslaught, Hellward is the fourth full-length from Indianapolis veteran heavymakers Veilcaste, who bring together doom, sludge and post-metallic atmospheres to create a style that’s almost universally oppressive, even in its moments of foreboding quiet, and able to harness an intensity that extends to the “You don’t belong here” lyrical reptitions of the title-track. How they transposed my inner monologue to fit the song, I don’t know, but kudos. The bellowing “Chains” and worldcrumbling “Worn in Stone” show some influence from ’90s metal, whether that’s Sepultura‘s slowdowns or Godflesh, but at this point Veilcaste have found their niche in consuming aggression, and from the outset-descent of “Embedded” to the oblivion-march into the subdued acoustic finish of “I Am the Guillotine,” they punish aurally and conjure depths of mix in which there’s still intricacy and humanity to be found. I’ve had days that sound exactly like “Anchored.” Maybe you have too, if you’re reading this.
Onto the Afterlife makes itself a journey, and maybe that’s not such a deep insight since the title itself does more than hint at it, but the way Sydney heavy rockers Robot God take their fifth album from its relatively straight-ahead beginnings to a gradually broader-reaching mindset across the longer final three tracks — the penultimate “I Am the Night” becoming both a celebration of Sabbathianism and an expansive psychedelic jaunt in its 11 minutes — feels purposeful on the part of the prolific trio, and the procession is all the more a joy to follow after the wakeup crashes of “Soldier of Love” and the semiprog chug of the title-track at the outset, atmosphere being the key to tying it all together. Centerpiece “Cerebral Annihilation” marks the turn, instrumental save for its sample, and the builds of “Long Goodbye” are suited to round out, but it’s the fluidity of the changes within and between the songs and the obvious care put into their craft that lets Onto the Afterlife carry the listener across its 41-minute duration. Without sounding morbid, it’s a trip very much worth taking.
The debut full-length from North Michigan atmospheric doom four-piece Mothertomb, Dying to Live, brims with purpose from the three-minute mood-setting intro “The Summoning” onward. And indeed, mood becomes integral throughout the five-track/39-minute stretch as “Cythraul” picks up from the intro with a 10-minute croon-doom build, unshy in its metal but not anymore beholden to the double-kick than it needs to be to get the point across. The four-piece of vocalist/cover artist Alice Gawlinski, guitarist Chance Gawlinski, bassist Alton Minor and drummer Mike Benitez remind atmospherically of dark-arts practicioners like Second Grave in their ambient take on doom metal — emphasis on both the doom and the metal — in “Beware,” but “Mountain Hag” is more stoned in its first-half roll before the operatics and screams and crush, so I’m not prepared to say the book is closed on what they’re going for sound-wise. Nonetheless, as they end with the also-hard-hitting title-track’s apex screams, the potential for forward growth is easy to hear. Won’t be for everyone, but will land hard with those who can get to its level.
With two members of Alabama Thunderpussy in the lineup — guitarist Ryan Lake and drummer Bryan Cox — and Fire Faithful‘s Jon Bone on bass, it shouldn’t really come as a surprise that Richmond, Virginia’s Producer have more than a tinge of Southern heavy to their sound, but the band completed by guitarist Mike Jarvis and vocalist Kenny Ball run that through a thread of classic heavy metal and find clarity in the slowdown of “The Climb” and the harder push of “The Upper East Side Sadists,” with the two-minute “A Natural Death” fostering swing to follow the AC/DC-ism of opening cut “Nailed to the Cross” before closer/still-under-five-minute longest track “Vengeful God Complex” seems to pull the various sides together. Three takes its title from the fact that it’s the band’s third EP, which I chalk up to a conscious choice because there’s no way they’re not ready for an album if they don’t want to be. I’ll take 18 minutes in the swamp though, to be sure.
Posted in Reviews on August 10th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Hi and welcome to the Summer 2026 Quarterly Review. Every day this week I’ll be posting a round of 10 reviews to total 50 by Friday, rounding up recent releases, stuff I’ve missed, etc. There are a few things in the mix that aren’t out yet that I’m going to sneak in (shh…), but it’s entirely possible I’ll be doing this again next month or in October, so, you know, sit tight. My hope is that you find something to hear you haven’t heard before, or at very least have your opinions validated on whatever it might be.
Without further ado, we roll.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
Goddess, Ritual of the Cloven Hoof
Based in Sweden and signed to Majestic Mountain Records, Goddess are an offshoot of 2010s-era doomers Goatess and feature guitarist/vocalist Karl-Martin Buhre and drummer Kenta Karlbom from that band alongside guitarist Anders Martinsgård (Black Solstice) and bassist John Jansson in the revamped, renamed four-piece on their six-track/37-minute doom-chugging debut album, Ritual of the Cloven Hoof. Sort-of-debut album? I don’t know how you want to classify it, but either way the point is doom, and Goddess inherit a penchant for massive riffs and forlorn spaces as songs like “To Be King” and the eight-and-a-half-minute “Born Again Heathen” begin to define a character that is their own within the genre, the latter leaning a bit into doomedelic jamming ahead of the closer “Devil’s Reef,” which returns to ground in reliable fashion with deceptive vitality in its push. It’s no coincidence they sound like they know what they’re doing, because they do, but their Ritual is also the beginning of a new exploration, and holds all the more potential for that.
A new Irata album isn’t something that happens all the time, and fair enough. Some bands need to live before they write songs about it, and that’s not sarcasm or criticism for how much heart the North Carolinian trio put into their music. Human, while only their fourth LP since 2007, comes seven years after 2019’s Tower (review here) and starts out duly moody to suit the times in “Altar” and the bassy “Confessions,” but the swaying highlight “Seeds” finds a way to inject more energy into the delivery without sacrificing atmosphere, and though they hit into speedier fare in “Mirrors” or the penultimate “Goodside,” they do so while maintaining a patient progressivism, which leads to the masterful unfolding of capper “Daystar” across two linear builds, the latter of which ends the Human on a fading rumble. While maintaining a current of raw expression, Irata are able to conjure expanses in their sound. A J. Robbins mix doesn’t hurt in that effort, but it wouldn’t work if the songs didn’t run as deep as they do.
Oh hell yes. Indonesian stoner doomers Gutward bring about a lumber that’s a sure reminder of what dragged me onto this wretched lifepath to start with. Huge, immersive grooves, airy but discernible vocals — that actually have something to say about the world around them; bonus — and a sense of space and outreach that is at once free and encompassing. I is their first release following the 2024 single “Mauna Vedanā,” and its five-track/35-minute course is less about innovation than celebration, reveling in the largesse of march at the end of “What’s With the Rush?” or the addled vastness in “Mass Delusion” and hopefully-foretelling-of-things-to-come melodic showcase “Rot Alone” ahead of 12-minute capper “The Messages,” which is heavy enough for whatever you need flattened but holds firm to its tempo gruel and the melody established by the song prior. My only problem with the record is I can’t figure out which label I want them to sign to most, but either way, I is easily among the best debut albums I’ve heard this year. I look forward to hearing where they go from here.
A six-years-later follow-up for the potential wrought in their 2020 self-titled debut (review here), Smokemaster‘s In the Temple is in coversation with the breadth of modern psychedelia and the friendly melodies of ’60s pop-psych alike, and the Cologne outfit manage to make even a mover like “Do it Again” feel like a quiet, intimate moment, while pieces like the title-track and “Electromagnetic” feel less concerned with heft than float, and “Down in the Salt Mines” hones a wash that turns the extended solo in its back half to an utter triumph brought to heel in favor of a quiet last verse. Acoustic guitar, organ, effects, breathy vocals, clever layering — all of these elements serve the needs of the songs, and the songs have more range for them, but the underlying structures are a strength as the harmonies in “Citrus Leaves” demonstrate before they bring the album to an effectively stirring resolution. It’s the kind of record that might make your day better.
At the core of Bantoriak is Izio Orsini from Rancho Bizzarro, who in 2015 debuted the project with Weedoism (review here) and all its attendant weirdness. Vol. II follows suit 11 years later — what is time? — but finds Orsini working with a range of guests, from Sergio Chotsourian (ex-Los Natas, etc.) on the lumbering post-intro plunge “Blu Bus,” to members of Vesta, Supernaughty and Zen Circus, resulting in a could-go-anywhere vision of meditative heavy psychedelia. There’s throat singing on “La Muerte del Sitar,” while “Ritualism” finds the sitar very much alive and droning, “Kairot” lets the guitar scorch a bit, and “Liquid Brain” feels like a lost jam from The Heads. The last four minutes are dedicated to the ethereal noise of “Karpura,” with the later reaches lost to distant shouts and a consuming sound that might be running water. A lesson in how to be in-genre and still totally on your own wavelength.
While I don’t envy any band the task of distinguishing themselves in London’s underground scene, which is arguably the most packed-with-riffs of anywhere the world over and has been at this point for some time, the manner in which Troy the Band meet the challenge head on with their second album (Des), following on from 2024’s debut, Cataclysm (review here), with a collection that finds the trio of guitarist Sean Burn, bassist Sean Durbin and drummer Jack Revans answering the departure of vocalist Craig Newman by including a breadth of guest appearances. The penultimate “Adoration of Ill Luck” features Ana-Maria Terr Bordei, whom they’ve since welcomed as their new permanent singer, and her command over the massive groove there honed is enough reason why, but only one among a slew of highlights that include the immediately preceding “Memory Glowing,” with Peter Holland (Elephant Tree, etc.) and Kay Elizabeth (Black Orchids), and the screaming volatility of “Nothing” or “Choke.” There’s a lot happening in any individual cut, but the root instrumentals tie it all together and make (Des) an engrossing journey of a listen.
I know the focus on the new Burning Sister two-songer, Plunge b/w Fadeout (Live), is supposed to be the A-side, the new studio track and the ‘gaze vibes therefrom, the steady roll brought to bear for just under six minutes, hypnotic and full in its unrolling, hinting toward psych but staying true to the band’s stated intention of being ‘Mile High Downer Rock,’ bassist/vocalist Steve Miller and drummer Alison Salutz exploring and finding a plane between atmosphere and impact, but don’t sleep on the B-side either. This live interpretation of “Fadeout,” which opened the band’s 2023 Get Your Head Right EP (review here) when they were a trio but here becomes a showcase of fuzz density, nod and ’90s druggery. I suppose there’s no wrong answer between the two cuts, but “Fadeout (Live)” makes an easy comparison point for the Denver two-piece’s continuing excursion into the outer bounds of heavy weirdness, and even better, I suspect that’s why it’s included in the first place. For more, see their 2025 LP Ghosts (review here), and yeah, I really mean that you should.
Focus is an aptly-titled six-years-later return and fifth album overall from Memphis heavy rockers The Heavy Eyes. Issued through Magnetic Eye and Kozmik Artifactz — the latter of long association — the 11-song collection swings and reaches out and puts its focus on the songs themselves, which are taut, well composed, and able to make a four-minute slab like “It’s All Simone” feel like an epic reach even as it takes its place in the overarching flow of the material. That might be experience or maturity coming through — they hit 15 years since their debut in 2026 — but with shades of All Them Witches in the vocals, a gleeful tonal swamp in “Corporal Upham” ahead of the fuzz-bluesy “That Cold Goliath (Might Return),” and hooks to spare throughout, The Heavy Eyes remind that so much of the appeal in the first place was their ability to cohesively take on a range of elements and fuse them into a single stylistic statement. The self-awareness with which Focus would seem to have been made hinders this not in the slightest. Heads up, rockers.
Atmospheric heavy psychedelia presented across five duly broad tracks comprises this impressive debut full-length from Vienna-based trio For Eons, and Collide both has intricacy in the now and speaks promises of things to come in its sprawling sound, patient in centerpiece “Depths of Time,” excitingly prog-fuzzed in opener “Old Friend,” and righteous in the payoff of the eight-and-half-minute “Echoes of the Past,” the vocal melody in the latter putting the band in league with the likes of The Machine or the still-missed Sungrazer while the clearheaded tones in the start-stops of “Million Voices” and the will to drift in closer “From the Jungles to the Cities” (which has its own start-stops toward the finish) harness a sense of progressivism without feeling overly indulgent so much as engaging the listener on more than one level. The title speaks of smashing things together, and maybe that’s how the band experiences their music, I don’t know, but from the listener’s standpoint their songs are more fluid than they might at first seem.
Classic Swedish hard/heavy rock from the second Rödtjut full-length, Framtiden var bättre förr, with a songwriting that pushes toward the proto-metallic in “Rödögd blåtira” (and elsewhere) but balances that out with, say, the flute in “Vår tid” or the organ-inclusive mellowprog fluidity of eight-minute instrumental closer “Efter stormen.” It’s in Swedish, obviously, and I’m ignorant of the language, but the chug of “VMA” transcends gerunds, and as they demonstrate with the leadoff title-track, a hook is a hook regardless of what the syllables actually mean. The lead guitar in “En plats som vi inte förstår” has a bit of fuzzy stank on it, but by and large the intention is toward straight-up hard rock of the later-’70s variety, though somebody in this band likes Judas Priest, and that’s reasonable. This is my first exposure to Rödtjut, who have apparently been through some lineup changes since their debut in 2023, but the straightforward approach suits them and the songs hit a stylistic sweetspot, so you won’t hear me complain.
Shout it from the hilltops: Tranquonauts are a real band. Are they a supergroup? I somehow doubt they’d use that word, which implies egotism and a kind of coked-up indulgence, but there’s no arguing with the lineup or the pedigree of the band’s members, from Melbourne, Australia’s Seedy Jeezus — guitarist/vocalist/sampler Lex Waterreus, bassist Paul Crick and drummer Mark Sibson; gentlemen all — at the core of the project, to Isaiah Mitchell of Cali epic-psych (mostly-)instrumentalists Earthless and Port Orchard, Washington’s Tony Reed, of Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, Constance Tomb, and others.
The latter party came aboard for 2 (review here), which was released in 2024, and now aligned to Kozmik Artifactz for release in Europe with Blown Music once again handling Australia and Echodelick Records holding down North American distribution, Tranquonauts reveal what they’ve apparently been building toward in the decade since their self-titled debut (review here) with the four-song collection, III. And the message of band-dom could hardly be clearer or more efficiently delivered on a record that’s still so spaced in terms of atmosphere, or that derives such clear pleasure in blending craft and expanse.
A sample at the beginning of opener “All Rise” (8:31) sets up a thread that runs through most of the release, and if you’d immediately go to the end of closer “S() Sigurnova” (9:38) to see if there’s one there to bookend, yes, there is. Assembled and I think in some cases — the line about “Tranquonauts are powering down” comes to mind — spoken by Waterreus, the samples are given a classic sci-fi feel, a grainy sound and discussion of rockets and post-WWII pulp-film vibes. They bring a sense of aesthetic to the proceedings and provide a backdrop uniting the material, but neither are they overused. After about a minute, “All Rise” launches into its central riff, and that it even has one feels declarative of their purpose.
I wouldn’t call it crunchy or crushing, but it’s more tense in its structure and insistent in a way that the fluidity of the band’s prior jams on prior records weren’t trying to be. Reed takes the lead vocal in the verse that ensues, but the structure begins to loosen as they push into the solo, and around 3:05, they land in a Mellotron-topped slowdown that becomes the point from which the jam takes off. Solos are shredded, I think Waterreus takes vocals for something of a verse, but the tempo has mellowed and the effect is more hypnotic and the listener is drawn in. There’s little chance of coming back from where they go, and they don’t, but a sample ties the end of “All Rise” to the beginning, and sets up the cover of UFO‘s “Space Child” (8:39) just the same.
Mitchell takes over on vocals, with acoustic and electric guitars backing and a subdued flow that meshes well with the jam the band just left behind, as well as the one on which they’re about to embark. Crick‘s bassline and Sibson‘s drums are probably never going to get the marquee position in the band with the three guitarist/vocalists on board, but they are nonetheless the glue keeping the songs together and righteous on their own. “Space Child” puts its jam in the middle, sounding part-improv, which one wouldn’t necessarily expect on a cover, but even before the halfway mark, the exploratory feel is paramount. The difference is that where “All Rise” didn’t come back around, “Space Child” does, gradually returning to ‘ground’ (relatively speaking) with intertwining shred and a stop before the last verse rounds out.
That’s the end of side A, and though “Space Child” didn’t actually have any samples in it, the one at the end of “All Rise” and another at the start of “Broken Star” (7:34) gives a sense of continuity just the same. The song comes in with rhythm and lead guitar before Waterreus‘ classic-soul verse unfolds, carrying to right about at 3:45, where finger-snap marks the beginning of the next outbound cosmic foray; a quiet build that wants nothing for payoff but is going to take its time getting there, which is ultimately to the strength of the song as a whole. It might be a plotted progression, but the solo(s) over top feel vibrant and spontaneous just the same, and as it fades out, “Broken Star” transitions directly, mid-sampled-rumble, to the aforementioned finale/longest track, “”S() Sigurnova.”
A reference in the title to Sigur Ros coincides with the stated inspiration for the song, and the early, pre-verse float the band conjure is indeed a departure from, say, a UFO cover. Mellotron, still plenty of guitar around and softer vocals from Waterreus let “S() Sigurnova” flow, covering new ground without feeling out of place, with samples laced through between vocal lines before they gradually embark on their journey, Sibson crashing in at 3:43 accompanied by a twisting lead line on guitar (there’s also a solo happening) as the bed for the last dive into the liquefied far-out. As with “All Rise,” they make it clear that once they go, they’ll remain gone, and that’s how it happens, but they’re dynamic in that, bringing “S() Sigurnova” to a multi-guitar crescendo at around 8:45 before it starts to come apart and that last sample steps in to give a sense of completion to the LP.
It’s not that either of the two previous Tranquonauts albums were lacking cohesion, but if you listened to the first and then the second, a sense of refinement was working its way into their sound, and that continues on III. I still don’t know to what it will lead, if they’ll ever be the kind of band who write ‘straightforward’ material, but the balance they strike between off-the-cuff sonic adventuring and structure is evolving, has evolved to be what it is here. Tranquonauts will likely always be a side-project for those involved, owing to geographic spread almost as much as everyone else’s other commitments, but more than they had yet, III demonstrates a creative progression that is their own, separate and distinct from the members’ other groups. In other words, they sound like a real band more than they have to this point, and from here, they feel like they could go anywhere.
Tranquonauts, “All Rise” live at Freak Valley Festival 2026
And so we reach the penultimate day of this Quarterly Review; whichever quarter it is, I neither know nor particularly care, I’m just happy to be writing.
It’s been solid days so far. Yesterday was a little harried on timing, but that’s as close to an actual snag as I’ve gotten, which I’m happy to say. The music’s been good, the images and embeds have either been there already or have been easy to find, and there were only one or two things I had to replace along the way because they weren’t coming out for like another couple months. I’ve never been able to keep track of release dates.
I thought about putting a thing in the sidebar so people could list stuff and each week there would be a list, but I feel like I’d be the only one doing it and that’s not how I want to spend my limited time. I want to spend it writing, so I do. And no, it’s not even a little lost on me what a gift that is. It’s why I keep telling you my wife is so amazing. Part of why, anyhow.
We wrap tomorrow, so here’s today.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Ruff Majik, Tan Halen
The central thesis of Ruff Majik‘s recent single “Tan Halen”, that “Sundays are for surfing,” becomes the hook and foundation of this four-song EP of the same name that’s the band’s most substantial offering since they ended a relatively brief hiatus at the start of this year. On the four-track outing, “Tan Halen” is accompanied by “Tvn Hvlen (Tvpe Mix),” which sounds more compressed and vocals-forward, the haggardly swaggering prior single “For the Life of Me,” here presented in an alternate mix that in its maddening chorus brings up the snare and feels more chaotic at the end, and lastly, “Tan Halen (Too Much Fuzz, Not Enough Drums),” which is true more on the second account than the first — how much fuzz is too much for Ruff Majik? is that a pinnacle that’s yet been reached? — but with the drums lower in the mix and the filthy tones surrounding has kind of a garage rock feel, which again, is fair enough for a song about surfing. Only missing here is their first 2026 single, “Can of Wyrms” (posted here), but you can’t have everything. I’m just glad they’re putting out new music.
Releasing through Small Stone Records (US) and Kozmik Artifactz (EU), Spanish classic heavy rockers Green Desert Water bring warmth to boogie and once again distill decades of influence into a cohesive, movement-minded, dynamic package. Eerie Meadows is their third album and in pieces like “The Blacksmith” near the outset or the sweeping “Wolfhound” and shuffling “Bos Primigenius” ahead of the finale “Meteora” on side B, they make it all sound easy, natural, like it couldn’t be any other way. The way that happens is through command of craft, and Green Desert Water are there too in the push of fuzz that emerges at the end of soulful leadoff “Northern Lights,” the bluesier “Holy Ground” and the big crashes/softshoe of the title-track, the trio having constructed songs that can have been worked on but don’t feel like, that engage without cloying, and which thrill in their sundry twists and redirects. I’m not sure what more one could ask of them.
No, I don’t think Berlin newcomers Go Mahhh are the first to posit themselves as being “as high as the mountain,” as they do on opener “High Mountain,” in the stonerly genres, but their tight and heavy psychedelic rock comes through as inherited, and songs like “Happy Satan’s Reign” and the proto-chugging “BBSBBQ,” the kraut-dancey “Anatoliosis” and the percussively shuffling “The Sun King” offer variety united by an underlying current of weirdness. Perhaps it’s all leading to the seven-minute finale “Mind Aussalt” (sic), with its drift and drone and ’60s guitar earlier on, but the band never rest too long in one place, be it the buzzing roll of “Blood Transfusion” or the interlude “MSAZ-20,” with intertwining lines of standalone guitar. Part of me wants to talk about the potential for growth here and the idea that Go Mahhh are debuting with significant range on Doppelgänger, but honestly, the spirit of the album is so much more about the joy of exploration that pulling myself out of the moment feels inappropriate. Some records, you just want to go where they take you.
Heath‘s 2024 debut, Isaak’s Marble (review here) offered hints of progressivism to come, but Murmurations goes to another level, digging in across three tracks to recharacterize their sound from boogie traditionalism to something more expansive and their own. The two-minute mostly-vocals intro “Exordium in D Minor” leads into two 15-minutes-each cuts “Murmurations” and “Nosedive,” and while clearly jam-based, the two songs follow plotted, sometimes winding courses, still keeping a classic feel but lighting a fire under it by the time the title-track is through. Comprising what I assume is the entirety of side B, “Nosedive” unfolds patiently with Rhodes ambience and a gradual build of guitar, working its way to and through a build that hits into surprising heft before its done but makes its core impression in its burner midsection, because nothing tops a crescendo like another, slower, crashing crescendo. It’s like the chemistry here is slapping you in the face, and with the growth they show in this material, Heath‘s limits feel far off on the horizon.
There’s no obfuscation on The Crooked Skulls‘ debut full-length, Midnight Sun. The New Jersey crunch-riffers come right at you with it: thick tones, gravel-throated vocals, and an overarching groove somewhere between slower Orange Goblin and classic Corrosion of Conformity, leaving room for a bit of shove in “Skull Bong” and “Broken” while the mostly-instrumental “Slowsteal” cuts the pace and unfolds with an airier solo in its second half as part of a righteously nodding culmination. Elsewhere, the urgency of centerpiece “Let Me Out” reminds of The Obsessed riding the line between rock and doom, and the penultimate “Iron Smile” brings no less than Fu Manchu‘s Bob Balch in for an expectedly shredding guest guitar spot. Even there, The Crooked Skulls aren’t up to anything too fancy. They’re not looking to dizzy you with complexity so much as dizzy you with a fist upside the head, and that edge of East Coast confrontationalism becomes part of what makes their material feel so immediate in its execution right unto closer “Judgement Day,” which holds its burl through the finish. No tricks, but songs.
A healthy dose of Pentagram-style doom boogie pervades Broadslab‘s The Fifth Essence, and reasonably so as the Mike Dean-produced, Raleigh, North Carolina-based four-piece make their way to the nine-minute organ-laced capper “Constellations” through the classic swing of “Animal Divinity” and “Leslie” at the outset, setting an energetic and stage-ready tone for what follows, the interlude “Alienation” ahead of the all-in shred and burl of side A closer/centerpiece “Shameful Reality,” a more aggressive take than either of the first two cuts, but the beginning rather than the end of their branching out therefrom. The seven-minute “Keep on Rollin'” (not a Samavayo cover) and “Constellations” comprise most of side B, with the longer interlude “Quintessence” between, duly subdued to lead the way from the dual-vocal-style shove of the song before into the immediate kick the band deliver on their way to the extended jamming that carries them out. This might be their first record in 12 years? All the more of an occasion, then.
Bergen, Norway’s Purple Skies make their long-play debut with A Million Years, and thereby foster a sound that’s informed by retroism without actually sounding like it was recorded on vintage gear. That is, as “Haven” and “Too Worn to Tell” demonstrate, they aren’t beholden to a vintage aesthetic, despite influence by bands like Witchcraft (which you can hear in the vocals as well as the guitar progressions they follow) and whichever of their acolytes you’d prefer to namedrop. That doesn’t account for everything on the nine-song A Million Years — to wit, the harmonies on the title-track — but it’s a start and so is the record. They seem to find another layer of tonal depth for “Worthless Men,” and it’s perhaps telling that both of the closing duo of “Archaic Freeway” and “Red Road” are in some way about transportation, because movement is an important factor the whole way through. I wouldn’t say it’s all forward-thinking — having a song called “Bitchcraft” in 2026 is a downer — but they give themselves something to work from in these songs and one will be curious to hear how they refine over time what this material lays out so organically.
The verses are a little more opaque in their biting, harsh-throated sludgecore screams — Ken-E Bones of Negative Reaction comes to mind — but there’s no mistaking the point of view in the hook of “F.T.W.”: “Fuck the world/Fuck AI/Realize the billionaires want us all to die,” and so on. Kudos to Texas’ Red Beard Wall for having a not-shitty opinion. “F.T.W.,” which indeed is restored to its pre-Millennial acronymic purpose (this is not “For the Win,” it’s “Fuck the World”), is joined by the likewise structured “W.A.N.T.S.” (“We Are Not the Same”), and in neither case is Red Beard Wall mainman Aaron “He of the Red Beard” Wall fucking around. “W.A.N.T.S.” uses meme culture to convey no less disaffection than the song before it, and is accordingly castigating as it shifts into a chug worthy of Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol before its sub-four-minutes are up. The above-noted hook of “F.T.W.” is the frame for the short offering and maybe the most fitting summary of Wall‘s lyrical point of view, but shit, it’s not like he’s wrong, politically or in the riffs. It might not change the world, but it’s a well earned lashing out thereupon.
Trondheim’s White Tundra debuted in 2023 with their self-titled LP (review here) on Apollon Records before aligning with Argonauta imprint Octopus Rising for the six-song/37-minute follow-up full-length, Stories From the Dark. The second offering demonstrates more than a handful of positive lessons from the first, including the uptempo swing at the start of “Healer” and the symmetry across the album’s two sides, each of which works from its shortest to its longest inclusion. Fortunately, to coincide with this, their niche feels even more dug out as their own here, with deep fuzz and gravelly vocals as mainstay elements uniting the material, be it the spacious, eponymous closer “White Tundra” or the extra-dense-seeming nod of “The Lake” just before it. There’s more to discover in their songwriting — that is, I don’t think they’re done growing — but their ideas are surpassing their influences now in a way they weren’t three years ago, and for sure it’ll be a third record I’m going to watch for. Incremental, natural growth underway.
Titled simply EP, this three-song/15-minute pummeler draws together aspects of war/death metal and sets them in a context led by riffs, so that the battle-themed horrors of “Trench Division” and the roll of “Bog Bodies” and the lurch early in “Venomous Trait” balance extremity and accessibility in a way that feels like someone should probably send it to Fenriz. Has Fenriz heard this yet? It’s the band’s first release — the lineup includes Jason Brackin, Chad Remains (Ghorot, ex-Uzala), Jacob Depolitte and Marco Gonzalez, or so I’m told — and somewhat indistinguishable from a demo for that, but the fact is that while they might be outwardly basking in a kind of metallic primitivism, knuckle-dragging their and your way to oblivion with only gutturalisms for comfort, there’s no time wasted on EP in informing the listener who Past the Light are and what are their intentions in grim bludgeonry. Telling of things to come? I know better than to predict, but there’s intricacy amid the slaughter if you’re willing to hear it. The test is on you as the listener, whether and for how long you can hang in.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 5th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Last heard from with 2021’s Black Harvest (review here), Spanish classic-style heavy rockers Green Desert Water are back next month with their third LP, Eerie Meadows, from which they’re streaming “The Blacksmith” now. The release will be through Small Stone and Kozmik Artifactz, giving international reach and cred alike to the warm-toned roll of “The Blacksmith” and the album as a whole, which at no point wants for appeal. Watch out for the hook when it gets you, because it does.
This is a bio I wrote, I think. At least I edited what they had, which is a thing Small Stone asks me to do every now and again. Let’s say I worked on from ‘The record features…” to “…to be celebrated” and call it there either way. I gotta look, hang on… yeah, some of that is what I sent over. It’s jumbled around a bit. Maybe not a full-on bio I wrote, but I did work on it at least.
It and all the rest came through the PR wire:
GREEN DESERT WATER: Spain-Based Power Trio To Release Eerie Meadows On June 19th Via Small Stone Recordings; New Track Streaming + Preorders Available
Asturias, Spain-based power trio GREEN DESERT WATER is back with a new album, Eerie Meadows, set for release on June 19th via small Stone Recordings.
The record features eight immersive and engaging tracks, merging heavy psychedelia and melodies born across decades from the 1970s on, speaking seamlessly in a way that is their own while still providing as much grunge shove as it does boogie vibes.
Their third album with Small Stone, Eerie Meadows follows the fan-favorite Black Harvest (2021), which established the current lineup of Kike Sanchís (guitar, vocals), Juan Arias (bass), and Dani Bárcena (drums) as one of the most enjoyable live acts in the heavy rock scene.
“With Eerie Meadows, we wanted to explore the duality between the heavy and the ethereal the mist, the ancient woods, and that feeling of finding home in the wild,” says the band. “Recording in a new studio was a challenge we set for ourselves to push our sound further; it’s a record about the cycles of life, the scars we carry, and the fire that burns even under the northern lights.”
While GREEN DESERT WATER keeps one foot decisively embedded in the classics – Mountain, Sabbath, Sasquatch – they execute the tight 37-minute LP with earned confidence and purpose, finding variety in mood amid a universal quality of craft. From the opening journey of “Northern Lights” to the closer “Meteora,” the band explores themes of loss, primal power, and spiritual survival. For the converted or those willing to be, it is a thing to be celebrated.
Eerie Meadows was recorded and mixed by Sergio Tutu at Tutu Estudios, Corvera (Asturias, Spain), co-produced by Diego Martinez and Sergio Tutu, mastered by Chris Goosman at Baseline Audio Labs in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and features cover art and design by Ossobuko Studio, additional layout by Alexander von Weiding, and backing vocals by Alvaro Barcena.
GREEN DESERT WATER’s Eerie Meadows will be released on CD, and digital formats as well as limited edition LP in conjunction with Germany’s Kozmik Artifactz. Find all preorders at the Small Stone Bandcamp page HERE:https://smallstone.bandcamp.com/album/eerie-meadows
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 24th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
To drill down the unlikelihood of a third Tranquonauts record, first you still need to get over that of the first one a decade ago (review here), and the second one that followed in 2024 (review here), and if we’re honest I’m still kind of surprised. The collaboration between Isaiah Mitchell of Earthless, Australian heavy blues rockers Seedy Jeezus, and Tony Reed of Mos Generator (now also Pentagram) have never sounded more distinctly like a band than they do on the four songs of III, or 3 — I’m not sure which is preferred — with opener “All Rise” giving heavy prog presence across a stately, plotted course. Clearly they’ve moved beyond the jams.
The UFO cover “Space Child” resolves with a bit of funk-boogie as though it didn’t spend much of its time in a partly-acoustic ’70s contemplation, while “Broken Star” has a slower, gruffer unfolding but more shred at the finish, and though the apparent Sigur Ros homage “S() Sigurnova” is duly atmospheric, it also has movement at its center. There’s more persona in the 34 minutes of III than anything Tranquonauts have yet produced, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that this record will coincide with their first live appearances, happening in Europe with the first test run at Freak Valley 2026.
The PR wire brought copious narrative for background:
TRANQUONAUTS ANNOUNCE NEW ALBUM III
A boundary-dissolving new chapter from the Australian–American psychedelic supergroup
Following growing international acclaim for their exploratory second album II, Tranquonauts return with their most ambitious statement yet: III, a sweeping new work that continues the deep musical dialogue between members of Australian psychedelic rock torchbearers Seedy Jeezus, Isaiah Mitchell (of Earthless), and guitarist/producer Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, Stone Axe).
Set for release in 2026, III expands the Tranquonauts universe even further – part cosmic transmission, part heavy improvisational ritual, part fearless compositional experiment. A JOURNEY CONTINUES
Since its inception, Tranquonauts has existed as a creative outpost for ideas too expansive, too strange, or too genre-fluid for the members’ main bands. It is a place where progressive rock, motorik groove, deep psychedelia, cosmic jazz, ambient drift and volcanic heaviness can coexist.
Their previous album, II, earned cult status among adventurous listeners for a structure as audacious as it was immersive: two side-long pieces, with side one often described as pure progressive rock in its most transportive form, while side two unfolded as a kraut-orgy of massive proportions – a hypnotic, ecstatic surge of repetition, propulsion and sonic overload.
Critically and artistically, II established Tranquonauts as far more than a side project. It revealed a group exploring music they may never have had the opportunity to write or release in their other bands – yet music that unmistakably captures the essence of what they all deeply love.
ENTER III
On III, that spirit continues – bolder, stranger and more expansive.
The new album contains four expansive 9 -10 minute compositions, each revealing a different facet of the group’s boundary-pushing vision:
‘All Rise’ A crushing descent into heavy riffage, balancing volcanic weight with exploratory improvisation
‘Broken Star’ A surprising turn toward traditional rock/pop songcraft, where melody and classic songwriting instincts meet psychedelic colour
‘S() Sigurnova’ An Icelandic post-rock inspired piece, unfolding in slow-burning crescendos, glacial textures and widescreen emotional atmosphere
‘Space Child’ A radical reinterpretation of Space Child, the 1970s classic by UFO – transformed through the Tranquonauts prism into a cosmic voyage all its own
While rooted in the exploratory energy of II, the new record pushes further into dynamic contrast, deeper collective interplay, and a broader emotional and sonic range. The result is perhaps the most stylistically adventurous Tranquonauts release yet, moving effortlessly from crushing heaviness to melodic classicism, from meditative post-rock drift to outer-space reinterpretation.
Where II opened portals, III steps through them.
A MEETING OF DISTINCT VOICES
The chemistry at the core of Tranquonauts remains singular.
Seedy Jeezus bring the restless experimentalism and psychedelic intensity that has defined their celebrated body of work.
Isaiah Mitchell, revered for his transcendent lead work in Earthless, contributes his unmistakable melodic fire and improvisational reach.
Tony Reed, one of underground heavy psych’s most respected architects, brings production depth, compositional sophistication and sonic daring that help shape the project’s wide-screen vision.
Together, they create something none would make alone.
NOT A SIDE PROJECT – A COSMIC COLLABORATION
What began as an exploratory collaboration has evolved into a fully realized creative force.
Tranquonauts is not about escaping their primary bands, but expanding beyond them.
It is a shared laboratory where krautrock hypnosis, progressive complexity, heavy psych improvisation and cosmic curiosity are allowed full expression.
And with III, that mission reaches a new peak.
RELEASE FORMATS
III will be released in: Deluxe vinyl editions Limited coloured pressings CD and digital formats
Special collector bundles to be announced
Further details- including track listing, artwork and live appearances—will be revealed soon.
FIRST LIVE APPEARANCE
The announcement arrives as anticipation builds for Tranquonauts’ first-ever live performance at Freak Valley Festival, June 5–7 in Germany – the band’s debut live performance and a landmark moment for a project previously known only through its recordings.
Appearing alongside some of the most revered names in psychedelic and heavy underground music, the performance will mark the first time audiences can experience the Tranquonauts’ expansive sonic vision on stage, with material from III expected to feature prominently.
For followers of deep psychedelic exploration, progressive adventure and fearless musical risk, this is not simply a new record.
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 9th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Putting out two records in the span of a year may indeed be the ‘curse of the driven,’ but before they get there, Sydney’s Robot God will unveil Onto the Afterlife at the start of next month, beginning their 2026 2LP cycle with Curse of the Driven to follow presumably sometime November/December-ish, if I had to guess. I’m not sure if there are differences in theme or concept across the two records or maybe Robot God just had a bunch of songs and wanted to do something with all of them, but new single “Soldier of Love” and the prior-posted title-track both bear out Onto the Afterlife‘s purported voidward delve, the sense of expanse as a priority. I don’t know how the balance will shake out either within the one album or onto the next, but if there are contrasts being set up, Robot God are doing so by pushing the heretofore limits of their creative reach.
The PR wire sent the following:
ROBOT GOD – Onto The Afterlife – May 1
Since emerging from Sydney’s heavy underground in 2019, Robot God have steadily carved out their own corner of the modern psychedelic stoner landscape. The trio operates with the instinct of seasoned players, channeling decades of heavy rock lineage into something that feels immediate, expansive and alive.
Built on a foundation of deep-running Sabbath weight, Hendrix-soaked psychedelia and the open-ended exploration of classic space rock, Robot God approach songwriting as a journey rather than a formula. Riffs stretch into cosmic jams, melodies drift through thick waves of fuzz, and the rhythm section keeps everything grounded with a hypnotic pulse. The result is music that moves between heavy groove, meditative drift and towering walls of sound.
Their reputation has grown largely through the live circuit, sharing stages with acts such as YOB, Greenleaf, Sasquatch and Brant Bjork while building a following among listeners drawn to the heavier and more exploratory side of psychedelic rock.
With “Onto The Afterlife”, Robot God push their sound further into the unknown. The album expands the band’s cosmic language — heavier, deeper and more atmospheric — while keeping the raw, organic chemistry that defines the trio. It’s a record built on momentum and immersion: riffs that spiral outward, rhythms that lock in for the long haul, and moments where the music seems to lift off entirely.
For those tuned into the outer edges of modern heavy psychedelia, “Onto The Afterlife” marks the next step in the evolving journey of Robot God.
The second single “Soldier Of Love” has just been released and is now available on all streaming platforms.
A limited vinyl edition will be available, including strictly limited and super-limited Liquid Vinyl variants.
Fuelled by relentless creativity, Robot God will also unleash a second album titled “Curse Of The Driven”, in the second half of 2026. Two new albums, one year, Robot God are firing on all cylinders.
Robot God’s journey is just beginning but the road these guys have travelled over the years has them set and ready to blow people’s minds in the years to come. If you’re a lover of spaced out blues jams mixed with Sabbath inspired riffage you will soon find yourself falling under Robot God’s magical spell. Prepare for the future, become a believer and let Robot God show you the way to the promised land, and you will see what all the fuzz is about.
TRACKLIST SIDE A 1. Soldier Of Love – 6:40 2. Onto The Afterlife – 6:03 3. Cerebral Annihilation – 8:56 SIDE B 1. I Am The Night – 11:14 2. Long Goodbye – 8:19
Robot God are: Matt Allen – Bass,Vocals & Synth Raff Iacurto – Guitar, Vocals & Synth Tim Pritchard – Drums & Synth
