Posted in Questionnaire on November 6th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Stephen Sheppert of Radiant Knife
—
How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I’d describe our music as prog influenced sludge with some sci-fi and possibly dark wave elements. Prog in the sense of math-rock/noise rock influence akin to Don Caballero, Dazzling Killmen, Breadwinner, Loincloth, and not necessarily tech-metal wankery.
Describe your first musical memory.
One that has stood the test of time is many mornings my father would play the record “The Wall” by Pink Floyd. I distinctly remember the song “Another Brick in the Wall” playing as I got ready for school. He had a music room full of vinyl and a decent sound system that would fill the house. “Hey teacher, leave those kids alone” as I walked out the door.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Any time I’ve made connections with other musicians via the riff without speaking. It feels like a form of telepathy that everyone should experience. It’s one of the unique things creating music can provide through making art with others.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
These days overt self promotion has become the norm, fueled by a fake it till you make it mentality. Being bombarded with that mentality through modern media is a test.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
In some ways it can result in more technically proficient and developed song structure, but in some cases regression can be progression as well. In many cases stripped back roots of music in its rudimentary form can more effectively convey a message or connect with listeners. Really depends on how you define progression.
How do you define success?
Created unabated art walled off from influence of outsiders, metrics, and all things business.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
The daily news, any day of the week or anything spewed from mainstream media.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
Possibly a blues influenced album that embraces time signature changes and off timings. An off timed vibe based in pentatonics.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
To the artist the essential function is release and realization of something tangible, formed from emotions, moods, etc. To the person, aesthete, etc. experiencing the art it could be a connection through a similar way of thinking, or lasting impression from a different way of thinking.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
These days I look forward to family time and time spent with lifelong friends. The reality that life is fleeting becomes more evident the older we get. The Beatles weren’t wrong with “All you need is love”.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 12th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Well, to be honest, I was kind of thinking of Forming the Void‘s slot on this year’s Ripplefest Texas, which is next weekend in Austin, as proof-of-life for the band’s continued existence. So that the Lafayette, Louisiana-based progressive heavy rockers pulled out of that is somehow fitting. They had played in 2021 as well, which put them closer to the May 2020 release of their fourth album, Reverie (review here), though right around the turn of the decade time gets all wonky in my head. Can’t imagine why.
And while we’re alluding to the pandemic, I’ll count Forming the Void among the acts who got decisively screwed by covid. Where they’d been doing regular touring and increasing their fanbase, productively putting out full-lengths all the while — 2015’s Skyward (discussed here, review here), 2017’s Relic (review here) and 2018’s Rift (review here) before Reverie — to a steady stream of praise. If this is genuinely the end of the band, they get to say they went out doing their best work, which isn’t a claim everyone can make, and while I’m sorry Reverie apparently won’t get a follow-up, it felt like a culmination of their creative progression when it came out and now it will serve as just that.
They say it’s not how they wanted to go out. It’s not how I would’ve wanted them to go out either. At least a goodbye show. But sometimes you don’t have the ability to do something like that, especially with travel involved as there would’ve been for their TX trip, and I don’t think Forming the Void owe anybody anything, even if it feels like they had farther to go on the path they had carved out for themselves.
I got to see them a couple times, which was something I very much didn’t regret even before they posted the end of the band, and wish them the best as they move on either to other bands, or not, whatever the case may be. Thanks for all the nod and expanse.
From the band:
Well, folks, it’s not how we had hoped things would go, but the balance of life and time constraints has led us to make the difficult decision to embark on an indefinite hiatus.
We want to express our gratitude to everyone that has supported the band over the years. We had some really great times making music and are thankful for those who enjoyed it.
Regrettably, this means we will not be able to play RippleFest in Austin this year. Though we were hoping to make it happen, it doesn’t appear to be in the cards.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on September 1st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Released by the band in 2015, Forming the Void‘s debut full-length, Skyward (review here), was warmly greeted on its arrival. It was kind of the dawn of the Bandcamp era, such as it is, and the Lafayette, Louisiana-based four-piece of guitarist/vocalist James Marshall, guitarist Shadi Omar Al Khansa, bassist Luke Baker and drummer Jordan Boyd showed up with just the right kind of rolling grooves to start mouths wording.
There are only five songs — “Skyward” (6:12), “Three Eyed Gazelle” (7:39), “Saber” (7:58), “Return Again” (6:18) and “Sleepwalker” (6:32) — and the album takes place over a readily-digested 34 minutes, beginning with the atmospheric intro provided by the first two minutes of “Skyward” before its central riff sweeps into the record’s first verse. I’ll admit it’s been a while since I last visited, but the title-track is an insistent nod there and shifts at 2:40 into a section of chug to remind that Forming the Void‘s prog-metal elements were part of what helped them stand out from the cadre of other outfits taking shape at the time, as well as the atmospheric lead put over that chug.
Even with “Skyward” dropping the first hints of the deeper-diving into Middle Eastern scales and melodies that would flourish through the band’s three subsequent LPs to-date, 2017’s Relic (review here), 2018’s Rift (review here) and 2020’s Reverie (review here), Ripple Music being the perfect label to issue the latter not the least for Forming the Void‘s emergent ‘r’ theme in record titles. In the car, “Skyward” is raw and some of the ambience is given up to the bare crunch of the riff, but on headphones the deeper reaches come through clearer. ‘Listen without distraction,’ the saying goes.
And no question, Skyward is a case-in-point for creative evolution. Forming the Void‘s sound has grown bigger, more progressive, and boldly heavier throughout their time, and as the foundation of their development as a group — Thomas Colley would replace Jordan Boyd on drums — in the vocals of Marshall, in the guitar of Al Khansa, and in the sheer aural largesse amassed in records two, three and four, it feels a little bit like the spark before the Big Bang. In part just for the relative dryness of the vocals. And if they had never done anything else, it would still be a killer record, but I don’t think I’m giving away state secrets when I say they’d soon enough blow themselves out of the water in terms of complexity, clarity of vision and ongoing refinement.
So again, evolution. Things starting as one thing and becoming something else over time. A single cell as life form. Skyward is nowhere near that basic, and the brooding, lurching, churning groove of “Three-Eyed Gazelle” (video here) expands the ambience of the title-track with an early roller verse — a Forming the Void specialty, stylistically-speaking — and soon breaks to an ambient section anchored by Baker‘s bass and again peppered with leads before surging back to pay off the tension built. They nod back into the verse, hints of doom in the solo as they approach the seven-minute mark, and course through with a stateliness that the more uptempo rock almost-boogie of the intro to “Saber” intentionally contradicts.
Harmonies in the verse — is it Marshall and Al Khansa, or maybe Marshall in layers? — mark “Saber” as a highlight, along with the ’90s-style groove that takes hold, not quite grunge, but pre-turn of the century at heart. “Saber” also doubles as a construction project for the big ol’ wall of noise and crash at its finish, the apex riff and shouted vocals overtop met by a rising movement on guitar that could be higher in the mix for extra adrenaline push. Residual noise finishes and “Return Again” answers by pairing soothing quiet sections with contrasting comedowns — heavy, quiet, heavy, quiet, heavy, if you’re curious — bordering on aggressive in its heavier parts, and is psychedelic in its mellower stretches, if still rhythmically tense.
“Sleepwalker” caps and is effective in finding a middle ground. More melodically-centered in its verse than, say, “Three Eyed Gazelle,” the gradual build and harder kick-in at 3:05 are confidently executed in a way that doesn’t want to catch the listener off guard so much as bring them along. Even when they’re about to get loud, you can almost hear them rearing back to do so, as if just checking to make sure everybody is on board. Please keep your hands and feet and phones and whatevers in the car at all times.
By the time it’s finished, “Sleepwalker” has portrayed the multi-tiered potential of the band and given hints at how they might grow. The fact that listeners now know the answers to the questions inherently raised by that makes the culmination of Skyward no less satisfying, especially since so much of Forming the Void‘s evolution as a group happened on tour.
As you can see above, three years is the longest break the band — who are still active and booked to appear at Ripplefest Texas this month — have had between albums, and one assumes that the plague upheaval surrounding the time of Reverie‘s release is at least partially to blame for that. I don’t know anybody’s life or work situation or anything like that, but if shit got complicated during covid for Forming the Void, they’d hardly be the only ones for whom that’s the case.
And for what it’s worth — plenty — they’ve dropped hints of new stuff coming soon, so maybe next year we’ll get there. Until then (or not), any excuse to revisit is welcome, both to remember this initial display of their songwriting and to appreciate it and the forward-thinking style they’ve made their own.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading and have a great weekend.
—
I have too much going on to talk about it. This week was insane. We got a puppy. Her name is Tilly. Here’s the picture. The Patient Mrs. started a new semester. The Pecan starts kindergarten on Tuesday. I was watching three kids on Wednesday (5, 7, 10) and it was nuts. I spent so much time writing on my phone, completely overwhelmed, chasing. Trying to squeeze in as much as I could. That would be what I signed up for, it seems.
I talked about it a little bit earlier this week — and yes, that link is there because I don’t expect you to have read it or remember — but we drove out to Pennsylvania to get the dog, way out. The place was far enough that it made sense somehow to stop through Hersheypark on our way to the 2PM meeting with the breeder, who was a Mennonite farmer with an expansive operation — fields, cattle, chickens, etc. — and thankfully not a puppy mill. The place was clean and obviously not just because someone was showing up that day, and the litter was kept together and she got 10 full weeks with her bothers and sisters and seems to have benefited from that. Eight, which is the standard, is not enough. Also, she’s clearly been handled, including by kids, who we met, can fetch, sometimes comes when she’s called, and she responds well to positive reinforcement, so that’s been a plus.
The pressure was on me. It wasn’t spoken so much, but The Patient Mrs. very clearly took the ‘I got the last dog and you made us get rid of it so this is your show, champ’ position, and fairly so. I’m glad Omi likes living at my mother’s house. I hope our experience with this puppy continues on the track of this past week.
We took the one from the selection of five who hung back and who looked confused in the videos I was sent. So far she’s been very good. She has peed in the house once. I caught her in time on a pee this morning and on a poop the other evening, whenever it was, so I’m not calling her housebroken at all — she was born in June 12; we have a ways to go on all fronts, including teaching her the difference between dog toys and just about everything else when it comes to chewing — but we’re off to an encouraging start. I like carrying her in the crook of my arm and reveling in the dopamine drip.
But it’s time now to feed The Pecan her breakfast, so hey, have a great and safe weekend. Have fun, watch your head, see you at the kindergarten ice cream social at 1PM! Don’t be late or you won’t get into college!
Coming at you live and direct from the Wegmans pharmacy counter where I’m waiting to pick up some pinkeye drops for my kid, who stayed home from half-day pre-k on Monday because the Quarterly Review isn’t complicated enough on its own. It was my diagnosis that called off the bus, later confirmed over telehealth, so at least I wasn’t wrong and shot my own day. I know this shit doesn’t matter to anyone — it’ll barely matter to me in half an hour — but, well, I don’t think I’ve ever written while waiting for a prescription before and I’m just stoned enough to think it might be fun to do so now.
Of course, by the time I’m writing the reviews below — tomorrow morning, as it happens — this scrip will have long since been ready and retrieved. But a moment to live through, just the same.
We hit halfway today. Hope your week’s been good so far. Mine’s kind of a mixed bag apart from the music, which has been pretty cool.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Yakuza, Sutra
Since it would be impossible anyway to encapsulate the scope of Yakuza‘s Sutra — the Chicago-based progressive psych-metal outfit led by vocalist/saxophonist Bruce Lamont, with Matt McClelland on guitar/backing vocals, Jerome Marshall on bass and James Staffel on drums/percussion — from the transcendental churn of “2is1” to the deadpan tension build in and noise rock payoff in “Embers,” the sax-scorch bass-punch metallurgical crunch of “Into Forever” and the deceptively bright finish of “Never the Less,” and so on, let’s do a Q&A. They still might grind at any moment? Yup, see “Burn Before Reading.” They still on a wavelength of their own? Oh most definitely; see “Echoes From the Sky,” “Capricorn Rising,” etc. Still underrated? Yup. It’s been 11 years since they released Beyul (review here). Still ahead of their time? Yes. Like anti-genre pioneers John Zorn or Peter Brötzmann turned heavy and metal, or like Virus or Voivod with their specific kind of if-you-know-you-know, cult-following-worthy individualist creativity, Yakuza weave through the consuming 53-minute procession of Sutra with a sensibility that isn’t otherworldly because it’s psychedelic or drenched in effects (though it might also be those things at any given moment), but because they sound like they come from another planet. A welcome return from an outfit genuinely driven toward the unique and a meld of styles beyond metal and/or jazz. And they’ve got a fitting home on Svart. I know it’s been over a decade, but I hope these dudes get old in this band.
The second offering from Philadelphia multi-instrumentalist Heath Rave (Altars of the Moon, former drums in Wolvhammer, etc.) under the banner of Lotus Thrones, the seven-song/38-minute The Heretic Souvenir (on Disorder and Seeing Red) draws its individual pieces across an aural divide by means of a stark atmosphere, the post-plague-and-the-plague-is-capitalism skulking groove of “B0T0XDR0NE$” emblematic both of perspective and of willingness to throw a saxophone overtop if the mood’s right (by Yakuza‘s Bruce Lamont, no less), which it is. At the outset, “Gore Orphanage” is more of an onslaught, and “Alpha Centauri” has room for both a mathy chug and goth-rocking shove, the latter enhanced by Rave‘s low-register vocals. Following the Genghis Tron-esque glitch-grind of 1:16 centerpiece “Glassed,” the three-and-a-half-minute “Roses” ups the goth factor significantly, delving into twisted Type O Negative-style pulls and punk-rooted forward thrust in a highlight reportedly about Rave‘s kid, which is nice (not sarcastic), before making the jump into “Autumn of the Heretic Souvenir,” which melds Americana and low-key dub at the start of its 11-minute run before shifting into concrete sludge chug and encompassing trades between atmospheric melody and outright crush until a shift eight minutes in brings stand(mostly)alone keys backed by channel-swapping electronic noise as a setup for the final surge’s particularly declarative riff. That makes the alt-jazz instrumental “Nautilus” something of an afterthought, but not out of place in terms of its noir ambience that’s also somehow indebted to Nine Inch Nails. There’s a cough near the end. See if you can hear it.
Realized at the formidable behest of Heavy Psych Sounds, the seventh installment of the Doom Sessions series (Vol. 8 is already out) brings together Sweden’s strongly cinematic sludge-doomers Endtime with fire-crackling North Carolinian woods-doomers Cosmic Reaper. With two songs from the former and three from the latter, the balance winds up with more of an EP feel from Cosmic Reaper and like a single with an intro from Endtime, who dedicate the first couple of minutes of “Tunnel of Life” to a keyboard intro that’s very likely a soundtrack reference I just don’t know because I’m horror-ignorant before getting down to riff-rumble-roll business on the righteously slow-raging seven minutes of “Beyond the Black Void.” Cosmic Reaper, meanwhile, have three cuts, with harmonized guitars entering “Sundowner” en route to a languid and melodic nod verse, a solo later answering the VHS atmosphere of Endtime before “Dead and Loving It” and “King of Kings” cult-doom their way into oblivion, the latter picking up a bit of momentum as it pushes near the eight-minute mark. It’s a little uneven, considering, but Doom Sessions Vol. 7 provides a showcase for two of Heavy Psych Sounds‘ up-and-coming acts, and that’s pretty clearly the point. If it leads to listeners checking out their albums after hearing it, mission accomplished.
Don’t skip this because of High Priest‘s generic-stoner-rock name. The Chicago four-piece of bassist/vocalist Justin Valentino, guitarists Pete Grossmann and John Regan and drummer Dan Polak make an awaited full-length debut with Invocation on Magnetic Eye Records, and if the label’s endorsement isn’t enough, I’ll tell you the eight-song/44-minute long-player is rife with thoughtful construction, melody and heft. Through the opening title-track and into the lumber, sweep and boogie of “Divinity,” they incorporate metal with the two guitars and some of the vocal patterning, but aren’t beholden to that anymore than to heavy rock, and far from unipolar, “Ceremony” gives a professional fullness of sound that “Cosmic Key” ups immediately to round out side A before “Down in the Park” hints toward heavygaze without actually tipping over, “Universe” finds the swing buried under that monolithic fuzz, “Conjure” offers a bluesier but still huge-sounding take and 7:40 closer “Heaven” layers a chorus of self-harmonizing Valentinos to underscore the point of how much the vocals add to the band. Which is a lot. What’s lost in pointing that out is just how densely weighted their backdrop is, and the nuance High Priest bring to their arrangements throughout, but whether you want to dig into that or just learn the words and sing along, you can’t lose.
Its catharsis laced in every stretch of the skin-peeling tremolo and echoing screams of “Altar of Liar,” Season Unknown arrives as the first release from Poland’s MiR, a directly-blackened spinoff of heavy psych rockers Spaceslug, whose guitarist/vocalist Bartosz Janik and bassist/vocalist Jan Rutka feature along with guitarist Michał Zieleniewski (71tonman) and drummer Krzystof Kamisiński (Burning Hands). The relationship to Janik and Rutka‘s other (main?) band is sonically tenuous, though Spaceslug‘s Kamil Ziółkowski also guests on vocals, making it all the more appropriate that MiR stands as a different project. Ripping and progressive in kind, cuts like “Lost in Vision” and the blastbeaten severity of “Ashen” are an in-genre rampage, and while “Sum of All Mourn” is singularly engrossing in its groove, the penultimate “Yesterday Rotten” comes through as willfully stripped to its essential components until its drifting finish, which is fair enough ahead of the more expansive closer “Illusive Loss of Inner Frame,” which incorporates trades between all-out gnash and atmospheric contemplations. I won’t profess to be an expert on black metal, but as a sidestep, Season Unknown is both respectfully bold and clearly schooled in what it wants to be.
Recorded by esteemed producer Martin Bisi (Swans, Sonic Youth, Unsane, etc.) in 2021-’22, Colder is Hiram-Maxim‘s third full-length, with hints of Angels of Light amid the sneering heaviness of “Bathed in Blood” after opener/longest track (immediate points) “Alpha” lays out the bleak atmosphere in which what follows will reside. “Undone” gets pretty close to laying on the floor, while “It Feels Good” very pointedly doesn’t for its three minutes of dug-in cafe woe, from out of which “Hive Mind” emerges with keys and drums forward in a moody verse before the post-punk urgency takes more complete hold en route to a finish of manipulated noise. As one would have to expect, “Shock Cock” is a rocker at heart, and the lead-in from the drone/experimental spoken word of “Time Lost Time” holds as a backdrop so that its Stooges-style comedown heavy is duly weirded out. Is that a theremin? Possibly. They cap by building a wall of malevolence and contempt with “Sick to Death” in under three minutes, resolving in a furious assault of kitchen-sink volume, that, yes, recedes, but is resonant enough to leave scratches on your arm. Don’t let anyone tell you this isn’t extreme music just because some dude isn’t singing about killing some lady or quoting a medical dictionary. Colder could just as easily have been called ‘Volcanic.’
Seeming always to be ready with a friendly, easy nod, Lafayette/Indianapolis, Indiana’s The Heavy Co. return with “Brain Dead” as a follow-up single to late-2022’s “God Damn, Jimmy.” The current four-piece incarnation of the band — guitarist/vocalist Ian Daniel, guitarist Jeff Kaleth, bassist Eric Bruce and drummer TR McCully — seem to be refocused from some of the group’s late-’10s departures, elements of outlaw country set aside in favor of a rolling riff with shades of familiar boogie in the start-stops beneath its solo section, a catchy but largely unassuming chorus, and a theme that, indeed, is about getting high. In one form or another, The Heavy Co. have been at it for most of the last 15 years, and in a little over four minutes they demonstrate where they want their emphasis to be — a loose, jammy feel held over from the riffout that probably birthed the song in the first place coinciding with the structure of the verses and chorus and a lack of pretense that is no less a defining aspect than the aforementioned riff. They know what they’re doing, so let ’em roll on. I don’t know if the singles are ahead of an album release or not, but whatever shows up whenever it does, The Heavy Co. are reliable in my mind and this is right in their current wheelhouse.
The intervening year since L.A.’s The Cimmerian made their debut with Thrice Majestic (review here) seems to have made the trio even more pummeling, as their Sword & Sorcery Vol. I two-songer finds them incorporating death and extreme metal for a feel like a combined-era Entombed on leadoff “Suffer No Guilt” which is a credit to bassist Nicolas Rocha‘s vocal burl as well as the intensity of riff from David Gein (ex-The Scimitar) and corresponding thrash gallop in David Morales‘ drumming. The subsequent “Inanna Rising” is slower, with a more open nod in its rhythm, but no less threatening, with fluid rolls of double-kick pushing the verse forward amid the growls and an effective scream, a sample of something (everything?) burning, and a kick in pace before the solo about halfway into the track’s 7:53. If The Cimmerian are growing more metal, and it seems they are, then the aggression suits them as the finish of “Inanna Rising” attests, and the thickness of sludge carried over in their tonality assures that the force of their impact is more than superficial.
Released as an offering from the amorphous Hungarian collective Psychedelic Source Records, the three-song Protoaeolianism arrives under the moniker of Nepaal — also stylized as :nepaal, with the colon — finding mainstay Bence Ambrus on guitar with Krisztina Benus on keys, Dávid Strausz on bass, Krisztián Megyeri on drums and Marci Bíró on effects/synth for captured-in-the-moment improvisations of increasing reach as space and psych and krautrocks comingle with hypnotic pulsations on “Innoxial Talent Parade” (9:54), the centerpiece “Brahman Sleeps 432 Billion Years” (19:14) and “Ineffable Minor States” (13:44), each of which has its arc of departure, journey and arrival, forming a multi-stage narrative voyage that’s as lush as the liquefied tones and sundry whatever-that-was noises. “Ineffable Minor States” is so serene in its just-guitar start that the first time I heard it I thought the song had cut off, but no. They’re just taking their time, and why shouldn’t they? And why shouldn’t we all take some time to pause, engage mindfully with our surroundings, experience or senses one at a time, the things we see, hear, touch, taste, smell? Maybe Protoaeolianism — instrumental for the duration — is a call to that. Maybe it’s just some jams from jammers and I shouldn’t read anything else into it. Here then, as in all things, you choose your own adventure. I’m glad to be the one to tell you this is an adventure worth taking.
There is much to dig into on the second full-length from Toledo, Ohio, duo Hope Hole — the returning parties of Matt Snyder and Mike Mulholland — who offer eight originals and a centerpiece cover of The Cure‘s “Sinking” that’s not even close to being the saddest thing on the record, titled Beautiful Doom presumably in honor of the music itself. Leadoff “Spirits on the Radio” makes me nostalgic for a keyboard-laced goth glory day that never happened while also tapping some of mid-period Anathema‘s abiding downer soul, seeming to speak to itself as much as the audience with repetitions of “You reap what you sew.” Some Godflesh surfaces in “600 Years,” and they’re resolute in the melancholy of “Common Sense” until the chugging starts, like a dirtier, underproduced Crippled Black Phoenix. Rolling with deceptive momentum, the title-track could be acoustic until it starts with the solo and electronic beats later before shifting into the piano, beats, drift guitar, and so on of “Sinking.” “Chopping Me” could be an entire band’s sound but it’s barely a quarter of what Hope Hole have to say in terms of aesthetic two records deep. “Mutant Dynamo” duly punks its arthouse sludge and shreds a self-aware over-the-top solo in the vein of Brendan Small, while “Pyrokinetic” revives earlier goth swing with a gruff biker exterior (I’d watch that movie) and a moment of spinning weirdo triumph at the end, almost happy to be burned, where the seven-minute finale “Cities of Gold” returns to beats over its gradual guitar start, emerging with chanting vocals to become its own declaration of progressive intent. Beautiful Doom ends with a steady march rather than the expected blowout, having built its gorgeous decay out of the same rotten Midwestern ground as the debut — 2021’s Death Can Change (review here) — but moved unquestionably forward from it.
Today, July 28, marks the release of Lafayette, Indiana, rockers The Heavy Co.‘s new single, Wormweed (Live at Foam City). The single-song outing follows behind their last single, “Shelter” (premiered here), for which Rock Freaks Records has pressed up a 7″ to be issued Oct. 8 through Bandcamp and at gigs — they had them at Freak Valley Festival in Germany, I noted; the fest and imprint are affiliated — the song having earned a bit of fanfare with a guest spot from a pre-recorded solo by Earthless‘ Isaiah Mitchell. And, just to tie everything together, The Heavy Co. will support Earthless at their tour stop in Indiana on Sept. 13, with records on hand.
You’re what my grandmother would call ‘a smart cookie,’ so I’m going to assume you’ve got all that and just keep going. Good? Good.
I don’t know if the below stream of the track counts as a premiere, really, but the band called it one even though the song will be publicly available and I’m not one to argue so long as the point gets across that “Wormweed (Live at Foam City)” is available now. The song runs a bit under six minutes and is instrumental in its entirety. Recorded by the four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Ian Daniel, now-guitarist Jeff Kaleth, bassist Eric Bruce and drummer TR McCully, it’s live and recalls self-titled-era Clutch in its middle after starting out with more of a ’70s strut — something from which the band in any incarnation has never shied — interchanging a fluid verse and spacier groove before pulling up circa 3:45 to make way for the slowdown roll that more than earns its place consuming the rest of the track. A winding solo overtop — the things you can do with two guitarists — gives further sense of life to the live recording, and even over the last feedback and drum crashes there’s a palpable and purposeful sense of motion.
“Wormweed (Live at Foam City)” was, yes, tracked entirely live. That’s easier to do sans vocals, but one way or the other, The Heavy Co. succeed in getting their dual-edged point across, emphasizing the budding chemistry in the new lineup and the lack of pretense that has heretofore defined their work. It’s been a bumpy few years for the group, who came back from a six-years-no-new-material-out hiatus with 2020’s single “Phoenix” (posted here) as the duo of Daniel and Kaleth — the latter then on drums — and have since gone on to expand the lineup. But that reconstruction as a double-guitar foursome and hit-record-and-go studio ethic can only speak of a desire to play live, which, as noted, they’re doing as well. So much the better.
Given what I’m hearing here, they could make an album in this manner, recording live and so on. I’d probably want a couple songs with vocals — Daniel has an interesting voice and it’d be a lot of guitar solos otherwise; if that’s a pain while recording live, they might be forgiven for overdubbing live vocals later; that’s a pretty standard approach these days — but that just provides another opportunity to change things up from one song to the next. A new debut for 2023, some 15 years after their initial start in 2008? No doubt weirder things have happened.
When/if I hear of such a thing, I’ll let you know. Today, enjoy the new single. They certainly make that easy enough to do.
Dig:
The Heavy Co. will release their new single, Wormweed (Live at Foam City) July 28th. It will be available on the band’s Bandcamp and all of the regular streaming platforms.
This is the first release to feature their revamped line up with TR McCully on drums and Eric Bruce on bass. Jeff Kaleth has moved from behind the kit to guitar.
The track was recorded 100% live in one take at their Foam City recording studio. What you hear is exactly what happened.
The single comes right in time with the announcement of their October 8 release date for their 7 in. single with Rock Freaks Records, Shelter ft. Isaiah Mitchell of Earthless. The vinyl will be available at live shows and a limited number will also be available in the US through their Bandcamp.
Speaking of Earthless, THC will be opening for the San Diego power trio, September 13, in Ft. Wayne, IN. A limited number of the 7 in. will be available along with a newly designed line of merch.
Posted in Features on December 31st, 2020 by JJ Koczan
[PLEASE NOTE: These are not the results of the year-end poll, which is ongoing. If you haven’t contributed your list to the cause yet, please do so here.]
—
Invariably, the ultimate measure of 2020 will be in lives and livelihoods lost around the world. I have nothing to add to the discourse of the COVID-19 pandemic that others haven’t said in more articulate and precise language. Suffice it to note that 2020 was the year that the very concept of “unprecedented” itself became trite.
One does not have to look far to find positives amid the devastation. Creativity continues to flourish. Art cannot be killed. Even locked away from each other in quarantine, artists will continue to reach out, to collaborate, to fulfill the human need for expression that has driven the species since cave drawings and will no doubt be the ruins we leave behind us when we’re gone.
In underground music, it was simply overwhelming. And though I’ll admit it was hard at times to listen to music and divorce it from the larger context of what was happening in the world — it was there like a background buzz — this year reinforced how necessary music is, not only as an escape or a source of income for those who make/promote it, but as an integral component of life and community. Absences have been keenly felt.
I won’t try to sate you with platitudes, to say “things will get better.” Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. One year turning to the next does not fix broken systems and it does not cure raging plagues. It’s just a number. Arbitrary except as a convenient marker for things like this, births, deaths, and so on. Bookkeeping.
Before I turn you over to the lists: Please be kind in the comments if you choose to leave one. To me. To other people. To yourself. These lists are culled from my listening preference and what I consider of critical importance. But I’m one person. If there’s something you feel has been left out, say so. I ask you only to do so in a spirit of friendship rather than argument. Thank you in advance.
50. Sun Crow, Quest for Oblivion
49. Atramentus, Stygian
48. Arcadian Child, Protopsycho
47. Fuzz, III
46. Jointhugger, I Am No One
45. Dirt Woman, The Glass Cliff
44. Switchblade Jesus, Death Hymns
43. Foot, The Balance of Nature Shifted
42. Hymn, Breach Us
41. IAH, III
40. Lord Fowl, Glorious Babylon
39. Acid Mess, Sangre de Otros Mundos
38. 1000mods, Youth of Dissent
37. Deathwhite, Grave Image
36. Soldati, Doom Nacional
35. Cortez, Sell the Future
34. Kadavar, The Isolation Tapes
33. Black Rainbows, Cosmic Ritual Supertrip
32. Shadow Witch, Under the Shadow of a Witch
31. Insect Ark, The Vanishing
Notes: To say nothing of the honorable mentions that follow the rest of the list below, immediately we see the problem of so-many-albums-not-enough-space. People talk about a top 50 as ridiculous, like there’s no way you can like that much music. Bullshit. I agonized over how to fit Sun Crow on this list because their Quest for Oblivion felt like it deserved to be here. Ditto that for Arcadian Child. And the achievements of bands like Kadavar, 1000mods and Switchblade Jesus and Insect Ark in breaking the boundaries of their own aesthetics deserve every accolade they can get, and likewise those who progressed in their sound like Cortez, Shadow Witch, Lord Fowl, Hymn, Foot, Black Rainbows, Deathwhite and IAH. Add to that the debuts from Atramentus, Dirt Woman, Jointhugger, Acid Mess and Sergio Ch.’s Soldati, and you’ve got a batch of 20 records — some born of this year’s malaise, some working in spite of it — that vary in sound but are working to push their respective styles to new places one way or the other.
There was no shortage of anticipation for what L.A. cultists High Priestess would do to follow their 2018 self-titled debut (review here), and the three-piece did not disappoint, instead gave a ritual mass that included the 17-minute concept piece “Invocation” alongside infectious and ethereal melodies like “The Hourglass.” And now that the circle’s been cast? Seems like they can do anything.
High-powered cosmic metal from Finland pulling apart heavy psychedelia on an atomic level with an urgency that speaks of youth, progress and an ingrained need for exploration? Sign me up. A lot of bands on this list put out their first album this year. There are few for whom my hopes are as high as they are for Polymoon. If you haven’t yet heard Caterpillars of Creation, do.
Of the sundry horrors 2020 wrought, a new album from long-running Toronto three-piece Sons of Otis was an unexpected positive, and their ultra-spaced, murky riffs on their first studio album since 2012’s Seismic (review here, also here) launched like a slow-motion escape pod of righteous doom (s)tonality. There will never be another Sons of Otis. Be thankful for everything you get from them.
Organ, Mellotron, sitar, acoustic and electric guitars, various percussion elements, and of course the inimitable fragility in Craig Williamson‘s voice itself — the ingredients for Lamp of the Universe‘s Dead Shrine were familiar enough for those familiar with the one-man outfit running more than two decades, but the lush acid folk created remains a standout the world over. Dead Shrine was a much-needed gift of peace and meditation.
The debut album from Colorado’s BleakHeart collected pieces united by melody and overarching atmosphere, positioned stylistically somewhere around heavygaze or heavy post-rock, but feeling less limited to genre bounds than some others working in a similar sphere. As a first outing, it brought a promise of things to come even as the depths of its mix seemed to swallow the listener entirely, equal parts serving claustrophobia and escapism.
There is not enough space here to properly commend Pale Divine founding guitarist/vocalist Greg Diener on how much he opened up the band by bringing in his and drummer Darin McCloskey‘s former Beelzefuzz bandmate Dana Ortt on shared guitar, vocal and songwriting duties. Completed by Ron “Fezz” McGinnis on bass/vocals, Pale Divine are a refreshed and ready powerhouse of American traditional doom.
One is going to have to get used to the idea of Uncle Woe residing in the places between, I think. An inward-looking cosmic doom that’s likewise morose and reaching, opaque and translucent, Phantomescence could be almost troubling in its feeling of off-kilter expression. Yet that’s exactly what multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Rain Fice was going for. Thriving on contradiction, exploratory, and individualized. Start from doom, move outward.
I don’t feel like I’m cool enough to offer any substantive comment on what Chicago’s REZN do, but their sax-laced heavy psychedelia comes across warm and is invitingly languid while still delivered with a sense of energy and purpose. It rolls and you want to roll with it, so you do. They were clearly hurt by not being able to tour this year, as were audiences for not seeing them. Call them neo-stoner metal or whatever you want, these songs deserve to be played live.
A revamped lineup for South African desert-ish heavy rockers Ruff Majik brought producer Evert Snyman in as co-conspirator with frontman/principal songwriter Johni Holiday, and found the former trio working as a five-piece with a broader sound underscored by an electric sense of purpose and willingness to push themselves to places they hadn’t gone before. Their third record, it seemed as well to be a new beginning, and they met the challenge head-on.
The underheralded children of rolling fuzz riffage, Connecticut’s Curse the Son found new depths of emotion to bring to Excruciation — and I do mean “depths.” Dark times for dark times. Fueled by personal hardship, turmoil, motorcycle accidents and a pervasive sense of struggle, the LP was nonetheless a triumph of their songwriting and brought new melodic character to their established largesse of tone. Your loss if you missed it.
Business as usual in ferocious heavy/speed rock from The Atomic Bitchwax on Scorpio — and that was only reassuring since the band’s eighth full-length marked the first since the departure of guitarist/vocalist Finn Ryan and his replacing with Garrett Sweeny, a bandmate of founding bassist/vocalist Chris Kosnik and drummer Bob Pantella in Monster Magnet. They barely stopped to cool their heels and yet still managed to be catchy as hell. How do they do it? Jersey Magic.
Such pervasive melancholy could only be derived from Irish folk, and so it was on Cinder Well‘s No Summer, which managed to move between singer-songwriter minimalism from Amelia Baker and arrangements of deceptive and purposeful intricacy. Wherever it went, from traditional songs “Wandering Boy” and “The Cuckoo” to originals like “Fallen” and the nine-minute “Our Lady’s,” it was equal parts gorgeous and sad and resonant. It remains so, despite the fleeting season.
Their fourth album and first since crossing the decade-mark since their inception, Pallbearer‘s Forgotten Days wasn’t just heavy, emotional or big-sounding; it was the most their-own of anything they’ve done. It felt exactly like the record they wanted it to be, and reconfirmed that the generation of listeners being introduced to doom by their music is going to be just fine if they follow the cues laid out for them here.
—
17. Slift, Ummon
Released by Stolen Body and Vicious Circle Records. Reviewed March 26.
Less a reinvention of space rock than a kick in its ass, Slift‘s Ummon pushed well past the line of manageability at 72 minutes and reveled in that. The French outfit were greeted as liberators when they released the album, and with the way the respect has been maintained in the months since they’ve given themselves a high standard to meet, but there’s only promise to be heard as you get lost in the nebular wash of this sprawling 2LP. They’ll have two more records out before this one’s fully digested.
The first album in half a decade from long-established UK death-doom forebears My Dying Bride found vocalist Aaron Stainthorpe coping with his daughter’s cancer diagnosis and translating that into the morose poetry for which the band is so well known and with which they’ve been so influential. My Dying Bride has never wanted for sincerity, but to call them affecting here would be underselling the quality of their craft and the heart they put into it. Follow-up EP is already out with extra non-album tracks.
Denmark’s Causa Sui may be on a mission to unite jazz and heavy psychedelia — and blessings on them for that — but the mellow jammy vibes they conjured on Szabodelico only emphasized how much it’s the character of what they do and the chemistry they’ve brought as bandmates that has allowed them to branch thusly in terms of aesthetic. It was the kind of album you wanted to put on again even before it was over, and its sweet instrumentals felt born to a greater timeline than a single year can encompass.
I’m not a punk rocker, but All Souls make me wish I was. Their emotive and engaged heavy rock looks out as much as in on Songs for the End of the World — their second LP behind a 2018 self-titled debut (review here) — but it’s undeniably punk in its foundation, and what the four-piece of Antonio Aguilar and Meg Castellanos (both ex-Totimoshi), Erik Trammell (Black Elk) and Tony Tornay (Fatso Jetson) have put together builds on that in exciting, inventive and individualized ways, while staying nonetheless true to its roots.
Five years after their debut album, Rocket Science (review here), Boston four-piece Kind return with Mental Nudge. And despite the different situations in which it finds the band’s members — bassist Tom Corino is now ex-Rozamov, drummer Matt Couto now ex-Elder — the group’s focus remains on carving memorable, mostly structured tracks out of ethereal heavy psychedelia, guitarist Darryl Shepard (Milligram, etc.) and vocalist Craig Riggs (Roadsaw, Sasquatch, etc.) adding space and melody to the crunching, driving grooves.
Founded by vocalist Farida Lemouchi (ex-The Devil’s Blood) and guitarist Oeds Beydals (ex-Death Alley, also ex-The Devil’s Blood) and commissioned as a project for Roadburn Festival 2019 (review here), Molassess are inextricably tied to Lemouchi‘s groundbreaking former outfit and its tragic ending, but the musical branching out into darkened progressive textures on Through the Hollow isn’t to be understated. It was an album that pushed past the past, not overlooking it, but finding new ways of moving forward in life and sound.
While of course the Mos Generator frontman is no stranger to writing or recording on his own, Funeral Suit was Tony Reed‘s debut as a solo artist and it carried his progressive stamp in melody and arrangement. It was not just a guitarist playing acoustic instead of electric, and it was not a manifestation of self-indulgence. Whether it was reworking a Mos Generator song like “Lonely One Kenobi” or pursuing a new piece like the title-track or “Waterbirth,” Reed found balance between personal and audience, evoking traditional songsmithing even as he reminded listeners of his dual role as a producer.
Spectacular showing from Kingston kingpins Geezer with Groovy as their first offering for Heavy Psych Sounds. Led by guitarist/vocalist Pat Harrington, the three-piece brought material that flowed with the organic feel of jams despite being structured and catchy songs. In pieces like “Dead Soul Scroll” and “Drowning on Empty,” they melded stonerized groove with what felt like genuine emotional expression, and “Dig” and “Groovy” still managed to be a heavy fuzz-blues party. And they still had room at the end to jam out on “Slide Mountain” and “Black Owl.” It was nothing but a win, rising to the occasion on every level.
So Bob Balch from Fu Manchu and Gary Arce from Yawning Man have a band. They get Tony Reed from Mos Generator on board. Mario Lalli from Yawning Man/Fatso Jetson comes and goes. Nick Oliveri comes and goes. Bill Stinson from Yawning Man plays drums. Alain Johannes sits in on vocals. Reed does a bunch of vocals; his kid does a track too. Per Wiberg from Spiritual Beggars, Opeth, Candlemass, etc., lends some keys. What do you call such a thing? Who cares? You call yourself lucky it exists. They called the record Vision Beyond Horizon. Can’t wait to find out what they call the next one.
—
8. Elder, Omens
Released by Armageddon Shop and Stickman Records. Reviewed April 27.
Omens marked a new beginning for Elder as the band pushed deeper into the realm of progressive rock and beyond their weightier beginnings. The arrival of Georg Edert (also Gaffa Ghandi) on drums in place of Matt Couto shifted the band’s dynamic in a number of ways, providing not a swinging anchor for the rhythm section necessarily, but another avenue of prog fluidity. Bassist Jack Donovan brought a steady presence in the low end as guitarist/vocalist Nick DiSalvo and guitarist/keyboardist Mike Risberg embarked on new melodic explorations while staying loyal to the band’s established penchant for sweeping changes. Omens may live up to its name as a sign of things to come, but either way, it was a strong display of the band’s will to pursue new ideas and methods.
First words that come to mind here: “eminently listenable.” With seven tracks and 36 minutes, Reverie may not have taken up much of your afternoon… once. But by the time you gave it its proper respect and listened through three times in a row, the situation was somewhat different. The Lafayette, Louisiana, four-piece gracefully brought together structured songwriting with proggier leanings and were able to bring together rampaging hooks like “Trace the Omen” and “Manifest,” casting a sense of sonic hugeness without forgetting to add either melody or personality along with that. The band — who here welcomed bassist Thorn Letulle alongside guitarist/vocalist James Marshall, guitarist Shadi Omar Al-Khansa and drummer Thomas Colley — have worked quickly and evolved with a sense of urgency. Is Reverie the goal or another step on that path?
Vocalist/cellist Jackie Perez Gratz (interview here), guitarist Max Doyle and drummer Zack Farwell comprise Grayceon, and with their fifth record, the band looks around thematically at environmental devastation through the lens of record-breaking California wildfires from their vantage point in the Bay Area. Even as the world shifted priorities (at least most of it did) to yet another global crisis in the COVID-19 pandemic, genre-melting-pot songs like “Diablo Wind,” “The Lucky Ones,” and “This Bed” reminded of the horrors humanity has wrought on its battered home, and still managed to find hope and serenity in “And Shine On” and “Rock Steady,” a closing duo that shifted to a more personal discussion of family and one’s hope for a better future for and by the next generation. 2020 had plenty of horror. At least we got a new Grayceon record out of it.
When Sho’Nuff asked Bruce Leroy “who’s the master?,” dude should’ve said Brant Bjork. It would’ve been a confusing end to Berry Gordy’s The Last Dragon, but ultimately more accurate, as Brant Bjork‘s homegrown kung fu was unfuckwithable as ever on the album that shares his name. After two decades of solo releases in one form or another, Bjork is not just a pivotal figurehead for desert rock, he’s a defining presence, as well as one of its most treasured practitioners. Brant Bjork, the album, brought initial waves of funk in “Jungle in the Sound,” explored weedy worship in “Mary (You’re Such a Lady)” and toyed with religious dogma in offsetting that with “Jesus Was a Bluesman” while still tossing primo hooks in “Duke of Dynamite” and “Shitkickin’ Now” ahead of the more open “Stardust and Diamond Eyes” and the acoustic closer “Been So Long.” With Bjork recording all the instruments himself, a due feeling of intimacy resulted, and yet he still found a way to make it rock. How could it be otherwise?
Why do I feel the immediate need to defend this pick? I’m not sure. Norway’s Enslaved are an institution, not just of black metal, but of bringing an ideology of creative growth to that style that often willfully resists it. They are iconoclastic even unto their own work. Utgard was released as the band stood on the precipice of 30 years together and yet it stood as their most forward-looking offering yet, as co-founders Grutle Kjellson (bass/vocals) and Ivar Bjørnson (guitar/sometimes vocals), as well as longtime lead guitarist Arve “Ice Dale” Isdal backed up the change from 2017’s E (review here) that brought in new keyboardist/vocalist Hakon Vinje with the incorporation of drummer Iver Sandøy, who doubles as a vocalist (and triples as a producer). The “new blood” made all the difference on Utgard, allowing Enslaved to piece together new ranges of melody in their work and offset instrumental shifts into and out of krautrock-derived progressions. Simply the work of a band outdoing itself from a band who does so at nearly every opportunity.
Every year I allow myself one addendum pick, and this is it. We Are was on last year’s list because it was digitally released, but the vinyl came out this year and it received its North American release this year as well, so it seemed only right to acknowledge that. So here it is in its proper place.
This is a band controlling their own narrative. Instead of Nothing as the Ideal being ‘the one they made as a three-piece,’ the Nashville outfit decided to make it ‘the one they recorded at Abbey Road.’ Were they thinking of it on those terms? Yeah, likely not, but it goes to demonstrate all the same just how much of themselves All Them Witches put into what they do musically, since not only are they continuing to refine and define and undefine their approach, but they’re setting the terms on which they do it. Each of their records has been a response to the one prior, but that conversation has never been so direct as to make them predictable. So what are they chasing? Apparently nothing. I’m not entirely sure I buy that as a complete answer, but I am sure I love these songs and the experiments with tape loops and other sounds that fill these spaces. Whatever they do next — or even if nothing — their run has been incredible and exciting and one only hopes their influence continues to spread over the next however many years.
There was a high standard set by Elephant Tree‘s 2016 self-titled debut (review here), but their second LP, Habits, surpassed even the loftiest of expectations. With vocals centered around harmonies from guitarist Jack Townley and bassist Peter Holland, the former trio completed by drummer Sam Hart brought in guitarist/keyboardist John Slattery (also sometimes vocals), and the resultant breadth gave the material on Habits spaciousness beyond even what the first album promised. Drifting, rolling, unflinchingly melodic and somehow present even in its own escapism, Habitswas not just an early highlight for a rough 2020, but a comforting presence throughout, and the further one dug into tracks like “Sails,” “Exit the Soul,” “Faceless,” “Wasted” and the acoustic “The Fall Chorus,” the more there was to find — let alone “Bird,” which I’ll happily put against anything else one might propose for song of the year. As their former UK label crumbled, Habits emerged unscathed and Elephant Tree‘s future continues to shine with ever more hope for things to come. Being able to say that about anything feels like a relief.
Twenty years ago, Sweden’s Lowrider put out what would become a heavy rock landmark in their 2000 debut, Ode to Io (reissue review here). A follow-up years in the making even after the band got back together to play Desertfest in London (review here) and Berlin in 2013, Refractions first saw limited release in 2019 as part of Blues Funeral‘s PostWax series (discussed here), but its proper arrival was in early 2020, and there was really no looking back after that. It wasn’t just the novelty of a new Lowrider album that made Refractions such a joy, but the manner in which the band went about its work. There was no pretending that 20 years didn’t happen. There was no attempt to recapture the bottled lightning that was the first record, and Lowrider did not sound like a band “making a comeback” rife with expectations and fan-service. Refractions acknowledged the legacy of Ode to Io, sure enough, but as a step toward adding to it in meaningful and engaging ways. The songs — “Red River,” “Ode to Ganymede,” “Sernanders Krog,” “Ol’ Mule Pepe,” “Sun Devil/M87” and the 11-minute finale “Pipe Rider” — were fashioned without pretense and came across as the organic output of a band with nothing to prove to anyone but themselves. They made it their own. In a wretched year, Lowrider shined.
—
The Top 50 Albums of 2020: Honorable Mention
—
Yeah, okay. There are a lot of these, so buckle in. Last year I just threw out a list of bands. This year I’m a little more organized, so here are bands and records alphabetically.
Across Tundras, LOESS ~ LÖSS
Across Tundras, The Last Days of a Silver Rush
Alain Johannes, Hum
Arboretum, Let it All In
Bell Witch & Aerial Ruin, Stygian Bough Vol. 1
Black Helium, The Wholly Other
Boris, No
Brimstone Coven, The Woes of a Mortal Earth
CB3, Aeons
Celestial Season, The Secret Teachings
Crippled Black Phoenix, Ellengæst
Cruthu, Athrú Crutha
Domo, Domonautas Vol. 2
DOOL, Summerland
Dopelord, Sign of the Devil
Dwaal, Gospel of the Vile
Elder Druid, Golgotha
Ellis Munk Ensemble, San Diego Sessions
Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou, May Our Chambers Be Full
EMBR, 1823
Familiars, All in Good Time
Forlesen, Hierophant Violent
Galactic Cross, Galactic Cross
The Heavy Eyes, Love Like Machines
Hum, Inlet
Human Impact, Human Impact
Humulus, The Deep
Jupiterian, Protosapien
Kariti, Covered Mirrors
Khan, Monsoons
Kingnomad, Sagan Om Ryden
King Witch, Body of Light
Kryptograf, Kryptograf
Light Pillars, Light Pillars
Lord Buffalo, Tohu Wa Bohu
Lord Loud, Timid Beast
Lotus Thief, Oresteia
Malsten, The Haunting of Silvåkra Mill
Mindcrawler, Lost Orbiter
Motorpsycho, The All is One
Mountain Tamer, Psychosis Ritual
Mr. Bison, Seaward
Mrs. Piss, Self-Surgery
Mugstar, GRAFT
Murcielago, Casualties
Oranssi Pazuzu, Mestarin Kynsi
Paradise Lost, Obsidian
Parahelio, Surge Evelia Surge
The Pilgrim, …From the Earth to the Sky and Back
Pretty Lightning, Jangle Bowls
Psychlona, Venus Skytrip
Puta Volcano, AMMA
Ritual King, Ritual King
River Cult, Chilling Effect
Rrrags, High Protein
Shores of Null, Beyond the Shores (On Death and Dying)
Sigiriya, Maiden – Mother – Crone
Six Organs of Admittance, Companion Rises
16, Dream Squasher
Slomosa, Slomosa
Somnus Throne, Somnus Throne
Steve Von Till, No Wilderness Deep Enough
Stone Machine Electric, The Inexplicable Vibrations of Frequencies Within the Cosmic Netherworld
Sumac, May You Be Held
Temple of the Fuzz Witch, Red Tide
Temple of Void, The World That Was
The Kings of Frog Island, VI
Tia Carrera, Tried and True
Turtle Skull, Monoliths
Uffe Lorenzen, Magisk Realisme
Ulcerate, Stare Into Death and Be Still
Vessel of Light, Last Ride
Vestal Claret, Vestal Claret
Vinnum Sabbathi, Of Dimensions and Theories
Wight, Spank the World
Wino, Forever Gone
Yatra, All is Lost
Yuri Gagarin, The Outskirts of Reality
By no means is that list exhaustive. And to look at stuff like Psychlona, Oranssi Pazuzu, Wight, Wino, Puta Volcano, Kingnomad, Ellis Munk Ensemble, Paradise Lost, Alain Johannes, Arbouretum, Uffe Lorenzen, Tia Carrera — on and on and on — I can definitely see where arguments are to be made for records that should’ve been in the list proper. I can only go with what feels right to me at the time.
Together with the top 50, this makes over 110 albums in the best of 2020. If you find yourself needing something to hang your hat on, be glad you’re alive to witness this much excellent music coming out.
—
Debut Album of the Year
Molassess, Through the Hollow
Other notable debuts (alphabetically):
Atramentus, Stygian
Bethmoora, Thresholds
BleakHeart, Dream Griever
Crystal Spiders, Molt
Dirt Woman, The Glass Cliff
Dwaal, Gospel of theVile
Electric Feat, Electric Feat
Familiars, All in Good Time
Galactic Cross, Galactic Cross
Human Impact, Human Impact
Jointhugger, I Am No One
Light Pillars, Light Pillars
Love Gang, Dead Man’s Game
Malsten, The Haunting of Silvåkra Mill
Might, Might
Mindcrawler, Lost Orbiter
Mrs. Piss, Self-Surgery
Parahelio, Surge Evelia Surge
Polymoon, Caterpillars of Creation
Ritual King, Ritual King
SEA, Impermanence
Slomosa, Slomosa
Soldati, Doom Nacional
Somnus Throne, Somnus Throne
SpellBook, Magick & Mischief
Spirit Mother, Cadets
Temple of the Fuzz Witch, Red Tide
The Crooked Whispers, Satanic Melodies
White Dog, White Dog
Notes: I sparred with myself every step of the way here. The last couple years I’ve tried to give the top-debut spot to not just a new band, but a new presence. Green Lung, King Buffalo, etc. Molassess, with members from The Devil’s Blood, Death Alley and Astrosoniq, isn’t exactly that. So what do I do? Do I go with something newer like Polymoon, Dirt Woman, BleakHeart, SEA, White Dog or The Crooked Whispers, or something with more established players like Molassess, Soldati, or even Light Pillars?
In the end, what made the difference was not just how brilliant the songs on Molassess’ Through the Hollow, but how honestly the band confronted the legacy they were up against. The songs had a familiar haunting presence, but they were also moving ahead to somewhere new. It was that blend of old and new ideas, and the resonant feeling of emotional catharsis — as well as the sheer immersion that took place while listening — that ultimately made the decision. Turns out I just couldn’t escape it.
And why not a list? Because this feels woefully inadequate as it is. I reviewed over 250 records this year one way or another — and that’s a conservative estimate — but a lot gets lost in the shuffle and somehow it just seemed wrong this time around to call something the 13th best first record of the year. I wanted to highlight the special achievement that was the Molassess album, but really, all of these records kicked my ass one way or the other.
—
Short Release of the Year 2020
King Buffalo, Dead Star
Other notable EPs, Splits, Demos, etc.:
Big Scenic Nowhere, Lavender Blues
Coma Wall, Ursa Minor
Conan/Deadsmoke, Doom Sessions Vol. 1
Fu Manchu, Fu30 Pt. 1
Grandpa Jack, Trash Can Boogie
Howling Giant/Sergeant Thunderhoof, Masamune/Muramasa (split)
Oginalii, Pendulum
Kings Destroy, Floods
Lament Cityscape, The Old Wet
Limousine Beach, Stealin’ Wine +2
Merlock, That Which Speaks
Monte Luna, Mind Control Broadcast
Mos Generator/Di’Aul, Split
Pimmit Hills, Heathens & Prophets
Rito Verdugo, Post-Primatus
Rocky Mtn Roller, Rocky Mtn Roller
Spaceslug, Leftovers
10,000 Years, 10,000 Years
The White Swan, Nocturnal Transmission
Thunderbird Divine, The Hand of Man
Witchcraft, Black Metal
Notes: If you were wondering why King Buffalo’s Dead Star (review here) wasn’t on the big list, this is why. It was pitched to me as an EP and that’s how I’m classifying it. I’m taking the out. Is it an EP? Not really, but neither is it a full-length album, given its experimental nature and focus around its extended two-part title-track. Whatever it was, it was the best that-thing, and this is the category where such things go.
Again, tough choices after King Buffalo. Thunderbird Divine’s EP was wonderfully funk-blasted and woefully short (new album, please). The newly-issued Spaceslug EP branches out their sound in fascinating ways as a result of the lockdown. Witchcraft’s acoustic EP, Coma Wall’s EP and Big Scenic Nowhere’s EP all signaled good things to come, and Howling Giant’s split with Sergeant Thunderhoof was a highlight of the most recent Quarterly Review. There really isn’t a bummer on the list there, from the bitter psych of Oginalii to the industrial metal of Lament Cityscape, the unadulterated riffery of Merlock to the live-captured rawness of Monte Luna.
So again, why no list? Same answer. I want to highlight the progression King Buffalo made in their sound and leave room open elsewhere for things I missed. Please let me know what in the comments. Cordially.
—
Live Album of the Year 2020
Yawning Man, Live at Giant Rock
Other notable live releases:
Ahab, Live Prey
Amenra, Mass VI Live
Arcadian Child, From Far, for the Wild (Live in Linz)
Author and Punisher, Live 2020 B.C.
Cherry Choke, Raising Salzburg Rockhouse
Dead Meadow, Live at Roadburn 2011
Dirty Streets, Rough and Tumble
Electric Moon, Live at Freak Valley Festival 2019
Kadavar, Studio Live Session Vol. 1
King Buffalo, Live at Freak Valley
Monte Luna, Mind Control Broadcast
Orange Goblin, Rough & Ready: Live and Loud
Øresund Space Collective, Sonic Rock Solstice 2019
Pelican, Live at the Grog Shop
SEA, Live at ONCE
Sumac, St Vitus 09/07/2018
Sun Blood Stories, (a)Live and Alone at Visual Arts Collective
Temple Fang, Live at Merleyn
YOB, Pickathon 2019 – Live From the Galaxy Barn
Notes: In this wretched year (mostly) void of live music, marked by canceled tours and festivals, the live album arguably played a more central role than it ever has, whether it was a band trying to keep momentum up following or leading into a studio release, taking advantage of the emergence of the Bandcamp Friday phenomenon or just trying to maintain some connection to their fans and the process of taking a stage. Or even playing in a room together. Or not a room. Anything. What was once a tossoff, maybe an afterthought companion piece became an essential worker of the listening experience.
You might accuse desert rock progenitors Yawning Man of playing to their base with Live at Giant Rock (featured here), and if so, fine. At no point in the last 50 years has that base more needed playing-to. And in the absence of shows, being able to hear (and watch, in the case of the accompanying video) Yawning Man go out to the landscape that spawned them and engage with their music was a beautiful moment of reconciliation. An exhale for the converted that didn’t fill one with empty promises of better tomorrows or tours to come, but served to remind what’s so worth preserving about the spirit of live music in the first place. The fact that anything can happen. A replaced note here, a tuning change there — these things can make not just an evening, but memories that go beyond shows, tours, to touch our lives.
There were a ton of live records this year. Some were benefits for worthy causes between saving venues, Black Lives Matter, voting rights organizations, and so on. And whether these were new performances from captured livestreams (Monte Luna, Kadavar) or older gigs that had been sitting around waiting for release at some point (Sumac, Dead Meadow), this, very much, was that point, and these live offerings kept burning a fire that felt at times very much in danger of being extinguished.
Looking Ahead to 2021
—
A list of bands. Some confirmed releases, some not. Here goes:
Dread Sovereign, Sasquatch, Year of Taurus, Apostle of Solitude, Weedpecker, Borracho, Love Gang, Jointhugger, Demon Head, Iron Man, Greenleaf, Samsara Blues Experiment, The Mammathus, Evert Snyman, Wo Fat, Conclave, Here Lies Man, Kabbalah, Komatsu, Hour of 13, Wedge, Amenra, La Chinga, Spidergawd, Wolves in the Throne Room, Vokonis, Freedom Hawk, Masters of Reality, ZOM, Eyehategod, Sanhedrin, Green Lung, The Mountain King, Albatross Overdrive, Elder, King Buffalo, Sunnata, Howling Giant, SAVER, Conan, Slomatics, Ruff Majik, Kind, Mos Generator, Yawning Sons, Lantlôs, Brant Bjork, Spiral Grave, Crystal Spiders, Lightning Born, Samavayo, Wovenhand, Merlock, Comet Control, The Age of Truth, Eight Bells, BlackWater Holylight, DVNE, Monte Luna.
Thank You
—
You’ve read enough, so I will do my best to keep this mercifully short. Thank you so much for reading — whether you still are or not — and thank you for being a part of the ongoing project that is The Obelisk. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to have such incredible support throughout not just this year, but all the years of the site’s existence. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you most of all to The Patient Mrs. for her indulgence in letting me get this done. I’m amazed forever.
There are many ways to say it, but whichever you choose, there’s little getting around Forming the Void‘s emerging presence among the foremost purveyors of progressive heavy rock. Their fourth album, Reverie (review here), came out last week on Ripple Music, and I have little doubt that when the end-of-year-list time arrives, it will feature prominently. Each Forming the Void record to-date has built off the accomplishments of the one before it in songwriting and breadth, and as the lush largesse of Reverie demonstrates, their latest work is no exception.
Guitarists James Marshal (also vocals) and Shadi Omar Al-Khansa, bassist Thorn Letulle and drummer Thomas Colley comprise the Lafayette, Louisiana-based four-piece, and in the interview that follows, the two six-stringers talk about the making of Reverie and some of the drivers of their creative progression, specifically playing live and the interaction with an audience there, finding out what works on stage and what doesn’t and bringing that to the studio experience. There’s more, but I’ll save you the rehash and just say thanks for reading and enjoy the Q&A below, followed of course by the full stream of Reverie from Bandcamp.
—
James Marshall & Shadi Omar Al-Khansa Interview: Forming a Dreamstate
—
Tell me about writing the songs for Reverie. Was there anything specific you were looking to do coming off of Rift?
Rift was very focused on feel and energy, and on this album we sought to combine that new energy with more of the progressive elements we’ve used previously. Also, our drummer Thomas [Colley] joined the band six weeks before we were due to track Rift, and though he did impact the sound of that album greatly, this is our first album written from the ground up with him. So one of the other things we wanted was to fully integrate Thomas’s playing style into our songwriting.
What was the atmosphere in the studio like? Tell me about working with James Whitten. What do you think he was able to bring to the recording and mix of the finished product?
All our previous albums were DIY or done in local studios. This was our first time booking a studio in another city, leaving town and focusing solely on recording the album for a week. It made the experience feel very much like a (very fun) job, or maybe even a classic documentary. :)
It was also our first time tracking together live to a click (sans vocals and lead guitar), so that allowed us some solidarity in facing the crushing scrutiny that anyone who has ever recorded anything is all too familiar with, and hopefully it allowed our interpersonal vibes to translate better onto the recording.
The title Reverie brings to mind a kind of dream-state, but also the inevitable snapping out of it and return to consciousness. What does the title mean to you? Is the album itself the dream?
Most of the lyrics on this album deal with dreams, omens, prophecies, visions etc… so hopefully our listeners are able to derive whatever deeper meaning they want, as all good prophecies allow you to do (stares off forebodingly) …
The dynamic between the two guitars and vocals has become all the more important to Forming the Void over the course of the records. Can you talk about how this comes through in the songwriting process? How purposeful are your arrangements vs. what goes by feel in the rehearsal room or studio?
Our guitar playing styles have naturally complemented each other since the beginning, but time and experience have made that part of the writing process almost second nature. Some guitar parts are completely written out, some are completely improvised, and everything in between, so it’s really just a song by song basis.
Shadi, thinking of the intro to “Manifest” and a song like “Trace the Omen,” can you talk about the importance of representing cultural diversity particularly in a US underground that’s so overwhelmingly white? Does that kind of representation matter to you, or is it just something to add flourish to the songs?
I moved to the US from Lebanon when I was 16, and my adult life has been an internal narrative of trying to open up meaningfully to a foreign society while staying true to my culture and identity. Thankfully I was able to find both of those things through FTV, especially in my writing partnership with James Marshall, who made the conscious effort to encourage and include those tonalities and influences, which far from being just something to add flourish, are to me a deep expression of love and longing for my people, culture and homeland. I think most people who emigrate to this country including my underground artist colleagues would have similar experiences and feelings to share.
At the same time, as progressive and open as the material is in building around the guitar, bass, drums and vocals, Reverie seems to emphasize the strength of songwriting, memorable choruses, engaging the listener. Can you talk about how touring more has maybe had an effect on the songwriting?
Touring has allowed us to become more aware of the elements we need for a song to work well live, and our road experiences definitely informed the writing of Reverie. For example, “Trace the Omen” maintains a level of energy even through the softer, more textural parts that makes it more viable for us to use live, especially on a shorter setlist where we usually have to forego the experimental songs.
Any plans or closing words you want to mention?
Everybody wish Thomas a speedy recovery as he is currently healing from a broken arm! Hopefully we’ll be playing shows again, but until then, wash your hands and stay safe at home!
The statistics of COVID-19 change with every news cycle, and with growing numbers, stay-at-home isolation and a near-universal disruption to society on a global scale, it is ever more important to consider the human aspect of this coronavirus. Amid the sad surrealism of living through social distancing, quarantines and bans on gatherings of groups of any size, creative professionals — artists, musicians, promoters, club owners, techs, producers, and more — are seeing an effect like nothing witnessed in the last century, and as humanity as a whole deals with this calamity, some perspective on who, what, where, when and how we’re all getting through is a needed reminder of why we’re doing so in the first place.
Thus, Days of Rona, in some attempt to help document the state of things as they are now, both so help can be asked for and given where needed, and so that when this is over it can be remembered.
Thanks to all who participate. To read all the Days of Rona coverage, click here. — JJ Koczan
Days of Rona: Thomas Colley of Forming the Void (Lafayette, Louisiana)
—
How are you dealing with this crisis as a band? Have you had to rework plans at all? How is everyone’s health so far?
We’re pretty much in a holding pattern at the moment. I’m recovering from a broken arm that happened right when the virus started to hit pretty hard so we haven’t been able to do any live streaming like others are doing, or even get together as a band and jam. Our plans have been totally turned on their head, like everyone else’s. We were supposed to leave next week for our first European tour. Health-wise, we’re all good, other than the aforementioned broken arm.
What are the quarantine/isolation rules where you are?
Where we’re at in South Louisiana all non-essential businesses are closed. Schools are out for the rest of the school year. Lots of areas have curfews. And essential businesses like grocery stores and hardware stores are limiting the number of customers in the store at one time. Basically just trying to keep large groups of people from being in one place at one time.
How have you seen the virus affecting the community around you and in music?
The biggest thing I’ve noticed, both around me and in the music business, is the loss of jobs. Where we live the oilfield industry is huge and it’s been hit really hard. And also lots of friends who made their living from music have had their lives upended.
What is the one thing you want people to know about your situation, either as a band, or personally, or anything?
We can’t wait to get back out on the road and play some shows. But, until then, we have a new album coming out on May 8 and hopefully once I’m healed up enough we might do a bit of live streaming. *fingers crossed* Also, stay strong. We’ll get through this. It may take a while, but we’ll make it.
