So I kinda wanted to hear some old shit alongside all the new shit, which I guess I feel okay about. I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like every second of every show has to be super-recent as much as possible to get word out about new bands again as much as possible — and again again as much as possible to the extent of whatever the audience for this show is; I honestly have no idea — but that’s not even close to being true in reality. I could play Death, no one would give a shit.
I should play Death. Next show if I remember, which I’m saying up front is like 70/30 no.
Anyway, so old High on Fire into new Dozer and Altered States’ recent “The Crossing” crossing with The Hidden Hand’s “The Crossing” from their brilliant 2004 opus, and JAAW feeding into Celtic Frost feeding into Vape Warlök. Fucking a. This show’s pretty good. I hope I don’t ruin it by, you know, talking.
A few albums here I’m looking forward to knowing better. Swanmay for sure, JAAW absolutely, and I might even say that of Dozer, perhaps into perpetuity or at very least until long after I’ve reviewed it and hailed it as one of the best albums of the year — which I don’t even feel shy in saying because it’s a fucking given — and Bongzilla, because they’re Bongzilla and I’m glad they’re putting out records. They’re a needed reminder of how even the heaviest things can be made to float.
Thanks if you listen to this show. If not, it happens, but thanks for reading anyhow. If you stumbled here and have no idea what I’m talking about, you might still consider checking out a band or two from the playlist and find something to make your day better.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 03.31.23 (VT = voice track)
High on Fire
10,000 Years
The Art of Self-Defense (2001)
Dozer
Dust for Blood
Drifting in the Endless Void
Devoidov
Stab
Stab
MiR
Altar of Liar
Season Unknown
VT
Mars Red Sky & Queen of the Meadow
Maps of Inferno
Mars Red Sky & Queen of the Meadow
Black Rainbows
Superhero Dopeproof
Superskull
Lammping
Better Know Better
Better Know Better
Oceanlord
2340
Kingdom Cold
Arriver
Azimuth
Azimuth
Altered States
The Crossing
Survival
The Hidden Hand
The Crossing
Mother Teacher Destroyer (2004)
Iress
Ricochet
Solace
Grin
Nothingness
Black Nothingness
Bongzilla
Hippie Stick
Dab City
MWWB
Logic Bomb
The Harvest (2022)
Swanmay
Stone Cold
Frantic Feel
VT
JAAW
Rot
Supercluster
Celtic Frost
A Dying God Coming into Human Flesh
Monotheist (2005)
Vape Warlök
Inhale Death
Inhale Death (2022)
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is April 14 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 28th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Sometimes it just feels like a band has your number. And you know, every time Toronto’s Lammping put out a track, an EP, LP, whatever it is at this point, going into it I think to myself there’s no way the band can maintain the standard of craft they’ve set — not for any real reason on their part, I just feel like my expectations are unrealistic — but they absolutely do, and “Better Know Better” is the latest manifestation of that.
The single itself is a who-would-ever-need-more sub-four-minute nostalgia trip in the spirit of their prior work, with a playfully Southern-tinged lick of guitar met by dub-ish drumming that’s given further emphasis on the instrumental companion-piece “Better Know Better (End of Dummy Lane),” and a chorus melody that’s like Abbey Road emerging from the casual swing of the early verse and a satisfying build as it moves toward the oh-hello-there of the organ in its second half. No pretense anywhere, and it’s straightforward enough to make the wah on the guitar count, but it’s warm and inviting as Lammping seem so consistently to be, and yeah, they nailed it again. Seems to just be how it goes.
It’s been about nine months since Lammping issued their last single, “Desert on the Keel” (review here), and that’s actually kind of a long stretch for them, though in all fairness, if they wanted to just out a new song every month and a half or so from now until the electric grid crashes, I don’t really see how I’d complain about it. But as I write this I’m not sure if “Better Know Better” is leading toward an EP or album or if it’s just a standalone, but I’ll take it as it comes from these cats and in the spirit of the music itself, leave tomorrow’s worries for their own time.
V-I-B-E. Behold:
New release from Lammping – Better Know Better
We’ve been recording a bunch of music for our new album. This joint started with a riff and ended up wherever this is. Probably not gonna be on the album, but its a cool ditty, so why not put it out. We started making beats out of our own songs as well, so the b-side is a remix of the single. Dig!
Here begins day two of 10. I don’t know at what point it occurred to me to load up the Quarterly Review with killer stuff to make it, you know, more pleasant than having it only be records I feel like I should be writing about, but I’m intensely glad I did.
Seems like a no brainer, right? But the internet is dumb, and it’s so easy to get caught up in what you see on social media, who’s hyping what, and the whole thing is driven by this sad, cloying FOMO that I despise even as I participate. If you’re ever in a situation to let go of something so toxic, even just a little bit and even just in your own head — which is where it all exists anyhow — do it. And if you take nothing else from this 100-album Quarterly Review besides that advice, it won’t be a loss.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Magnatar, Crushed
Can’t say they don’t deliver. The eight-song/38-minute Crushed is the debut long-player from Manchester, New Hampshire’s Magnatar, and it plays to the more directly aggressive side of post-metallic riffing. There are telltale quiet stretches, to be sure, but the extremity of shouts and screams in opener “Dead Swan” and in the second half of “Crown of Thorns” — the way that intensity becomes part of the build of the song as a whole — is well beyond the usual throaty fare. There’s atmosphere to balance, but even the 1:26 “Old” bends into harsh static, and the subsequent “Personal Contamination Through Mutual Unconsciousness” bounces djent and post-hardcore impulses off each other before ending up in a mega-doom slog, the lyric “Eat shit and die” a particular standout. So it goes into “Dragged Across the Surface of the Sun,” which is more even, but on the side of being pissed off, and “Loving You Was Killing Me” with its vastly more open spaces, clean vocals and stretch of near-silence before a more intense solo-topped finish. That leaves “Crushed” and “Event Horizon” to round out, and the latter is so heavy it’s barely music and that’s obviously the idea.
Three longform cosmic rock excursions comprise Wild Rocket‘s Formless Abyss — “Formless Abyss” (10:40), “Interplanetary Vibrations” (11:36) and “Future Echoes” (19:41) — so lock in your harness and be ready for when the g-forces hit. If the Dubliners have tarried in following-up 2017’s Disassociation Mechanics (review here), one can only cite the temporal screwing around taking place in “Interplanetary Vibrations” as a cause — it would be easy to lose a year or two in its depths — never mind “Future Echoes,” which meets the background-radiation drone of the two inclusions prior with a ritualized heft and slow-unfurling wash of distortion that is like a clarion to Sagan-headed weirdos. A dark-matter nebula. You think you’re freaked out now? Wild Rocket speak their own language of sound, in their own time, and Formless Abyss — while not entirely without structure — has breadth enough to make even the sunshine a distant memory.
An awaited debut full-length from Brooklyn multimedia artist/producer Brandon Gallagher, Trace Amount‘s Anti Body Language sees release through Greg Puciato‘s Federal Prisoner imprint and collects a solid 35 minutes of noise-laced harsh industrial worldbreaking. Decay anthems. A methodical assault begins with “Anxious Awakenings” and moving through “Anti Body Language” and “Eventually it Will Kill Us All,” the feeling of Gallagher acknowledging the era in which the record arrives is palpable, but more palpable are the weighted beats, the guttural shouts and layers of disaffected moans. “Digitized Exile” plays out like the ugliest outtake from Pretty Hate Machine — a compliment — and after the suitably tense “No Reality,” the six-minute “Tone and Tenor” — with a guest appearance from Kanga — offers a fuller take on drone and industrial metal, filling some of the spaces purposefully left open elsewhere. That leaves the penultimate “Pixelated Premonitions” as the ultimate blowout and “Suspect” (with a guest spot from Statiqbloom; a longtime fixture of NY industrialism) to noise-wash it all away, like city acid rain melting the pavement. New York always smells like piss in summer.
This band just keeps getting better, and yes, I mean that. Toronto’s Lammping begin an informal, casual-style series of singles with “Desert on the Keel,” the sub-four-minutes of which are dedicated to a surprisingly peaceful kind of heavy psychedelia. Multiple songwriters at work? Yes. Rhythm guitarist Matt Aldred comes to the fore here with vocals mellow to suit the languid style of the guitar, which with Jay Anderson‘s drums still giving a push beneath reminds of Quest for Fire‘s more active moments, but would still fit alongside the tidy hooks with which Lammping populate their records. Mikhail Galkin, principal songwriter for the band, donates a delightfully gonna-make-some-noise-here organ solo in the post-midsection jam before “Desert on the Keel” turns righteously back to the verse, Colm Hinds‘ bass McCartneying the bop for good measure, and in a package so welcome it can only be called a gift, Lammping demonstrate multiple new avenues of growth for their craft and project. I told you. They keep getting better. For more, dig into 2022’s Stars We Lost EP (review here). You won’t regret it.
Immediate three-part harmonies in the chorus of opener “Stealin’ Wine” set the tone for Limousine Beach‘s self-titled debut, as the new band fronted by guitarist/vocalist David Wheeler (OutsideInside, Carousel) and bringing together a five-piece with members of Fist Fight in the Parking Lot, Cruces and others melds ’70s-derived sounds with a modern production sheen, so that the Thin Lizzy-style twin leads of “Airboat” hit with suitable brightness and the arena-ready vibe in “Willodene” sets up the proto-metal of “Black Market Buss Pass” and the should-be-a-single-if-it-wasn’t “Hear You Calling.” Swagger is a staple of Wheeler‘s work, and though the longest song on Limousine Beach is still under four minutes, there’s plenty of room in tracks like “What if I’m Lying,” the AC/DC-esque “Evan Got a Job” and the sprint “Movin’ On” (premiered here) for such things, and the self-awareness in “We’re All Gonna Get Signed” adds to the charm. Closing out the 13 songs and 31 minutes, “Night is Falling” is dizzying, and leads to “Doo Doo,” the tight-twisting “Tiny Hunter” and the feedback and quick finish of “Outro,” which is nonetheless longer than the song before it. Go figure. Go rock. One of 2022’s best debut albums. Good luck keeping up.
Perfect Light is the closest Patrick Walker (also Warning) has yet come to a solo album with 40 Watt Sun, and any way one approaches it, is a marked departure from 2016’s Wider Than the Sky (review here, sharing a continued penchant for extended tracks but transposing the emotional weight that typifies Walker‘s songwriting and vocals onto pieces led by acoustic guitar and piano. Emma Ruth Rundle sits in on opener “Reveal,” which is one of the few drumless inclusions on the 67-minute outing, but primarily the record is a showcase for Walker‘s voice and fluid, ultra-subdued and mostly-unplugged guitar notes, which float across “Behind My Eyes” and the dare-some-distortion “Raise Me Up” later on, shades of the doom that was residing in the resolution that is, the latter unflinching in its longing purpose. Not a minor undertaking either on paper or in the listening experience, it is the boldest declaration of intent and progression in Walker’s storied career to-date, leaving heavy genre tropes behind in favor of something that seems even more individual.
Snagged by Heavy Psych Sounds in the early going of 2022, French rockers Decasia debut on the label with An Endless Feast for Hyenas, a 10-track follow-up to 2017’s The Lord is Gone EP (review here), making the most of the occasion of their first full-length to portray inventive vocal arrangements coinciding with classic-sounding fuzz in “Hrosshvelli’s Ode” and the spacier “Cloud Sultan” — think vocalized Earthless — the easy-rolling viber “Skeleton Void” and “Laniakea Falls.” “Ilion” holds up some scorch at the beginning, “Hyenas at the Gates” goes ambient at the end, and interludes “Altostratus” and “Soft Was the Night” assure a moment to breathe without loss of momentum, holding up proof of a thoughtful construction even as Decasia demonstrate a growth underway and a sonic persona long in development that holds no shortage of potential for continued progress. By no means is An Endless Feast for Hyenas the highest-profile release from this label this year, but think of it as an investment in things to come as well as delivery for right now.
The abiding shove of “Circle” and the more swinging “Abracadabra” begin Giant Mammoth‘s second full-length, Holy Sounds, with a style that wonders what if Lowrider and Valley of the Sun got together in a spirit of mutual celebration and densely-packed fuzz. Longer pieces “The Colour is Blue” and “Burning Man” and the lightly-proggier finale “Teisko” space out more, and the two-minute “Dust” is abidingly mellow, but wherever the Tampere, Finland, three-piece go, they remain in part defined by the heft of “Abracadabra” and the opener before it, with “Unholy” serving as an anchor for side A after “Burning Man” and “Wasteland” bringing a careening return to earth between “The Colour is Blue” and the close-out in “Teisko.” Like the prior-noted influences, Giant Mammoth are a stronger act for the dynamics of their material and the manner in which the songs interact with each other as the eight-track/38-minute LP plays out across its two sides, the second able to be more expansive for the groundwork laid in the first. They’re young-ish and they sound it (that’s not a slag), and the transition from duo to three-piece made between their first record and this one suits them and bodes well in its fuller tonality.
New Jersey trio Pyre Fyre may or may not be paying homage to their hometown of Bayonne with “Rinky Dink City,” but their punk-born fuzzy sludge rock reminds of none so much as New Orleans’ Suplecs circa 2000’s Wrestlin’ With My Ladyfriend, both the title-tracks dug into raw lower- and high-end buzztone shenanigans, big on groove and completely void of pretense. Able to have fun and still offer some substance behind the chicanery. I don’t know if you’d call it party rock — does anyone party on the East Coast or are we too sad because the weather sucks? probably, I’m just not invited — but if you were having a hangout and Pyre Fyre showed up with “Slow Cookin’,” for sure you’d let them have the two and a half minutes it takes them (less actually) to get their point across. In terms of style and songwriting, production and performance, this is a band that ask next to nothing of the listener in terms of investment are able to effect a mood in the positive without being either cloyingly poppish or leaving a saccharine aftertaste. I guess this is how the Garden State gets high. Fucking a.
Kamru, Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe
Issued on April 20, the cumbersomely-titled Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe is the debut outing from Denver-based two-piece Kamru, comprised of Jason Kleim and Ashwin Prasad. With six songs each hovering on either side of seven minutes long, the duo tap into a classic stoner-doom feel, and one could point to this or that riff and say The Sword or liken their tone worship and makeup to Telekinetic Yeti, but that’s missing the point. The point is in the atmosphere that is conjured by “Penumbral Litany” and the familiar proto-metallurgy of the subsequent “Hexxer,” prominent vocals echoing with a sense of command rare for a first offering of any kind, let alone a full-length. In the more willfully grueling “Cenotaph” there’s doomly reach, and as “Winter Rites” marches the album to its inevitable end — one imagines blood splattered on a fresh Rocky Mountain snowfall — the band’s take on established parameters of aesthetic sounds like it’s trying to do precisely what it wants. I’m saying watch out for it to get picked up for a vinyl release by some label or other if that hasn’t happened yet.
Toronto freewheeling fuzz purveyors Lammping release their new EP, Stars We Lost, on March 4 through We Are Busy Bodies. And look, I know full well that my say-so holds about as much sway as two or three cotton balls against the barrage of noise in universes both digital and actual, but I’ll tell you again these guys are onto something special. With the songwriting of Mikhail Galkin as their foundational element, backed by the solid push of Jay Anderson‘s drums, they’ve nestled their way into an aesthetic that’s nostalgic in purpose and takes a forward thinking route to get there. Consider Stars We Lost, the title. It’s of the moment — loss is everywhere, all the time, in plague and war and famine and life — but it calls out to the ridiculous notion of popular culture pedestal-making too. “Stars.” They got it from the tabloids. It’s grocery-store pulp. Laughing at the notion of its own triviality on the cosmic scale it implies. Fucking genius.
I’ve been out here for a couple years now talking up their shit — I’ll spare you other links, but last year’s Flashjacks (review here) was rad rad rad and also pretty rad — and Stars We Lost is another sub-20-minute reminder why. “Everlasting Moor,” “Never Phoenix,” “Home of Shadows,” “’21 Interlude” and “Beyond the Veil” bring hooks and remember-good-times vibes from the outset, but there’s so much more happening underneath. In the quote below, Galkin talks about sound-collage as an aspiration, and you can absolutely hear that taking shape in “Never Phoenix,” with the ’90s hip-hop bounce to its rhythm and starbursts of melody, and “’21 Interlude,” which is executed with maybe-purposeful irony in a manner retro enough to have been a lost backing track for Beastie Boys. Meanwhile, in the hall of justice, “Everlasting Moor” runs a thread of fuzz out in its first verse that never seems to disappear, and that’s only to the EP’s great strength, as even the acoustic-led “Home of Shadows” finds space for space through its electric-wah flourish and smooth vocal melody.
The sunny fuzz indie of “Beyond the Veil” wraps some version or other, but the master I got has another track too, in “Golem of Garbage Hill” that’s no less wonderfully catchy than “Everlasting Moor” or “Never Phoenix” or whichever track you want to set it against, even if the mood is a little more severe in the chorus. If it’s not actually on the physical version of Stars We Lost, I’m hoping it gets released as a standalone 7″ with a B-side that sounds completely different but is no less awesome. Lammping make such things sound easily crafted, organic, and righteously humble. I don’t know what the sample is at the end of “Beyond the Veil,” but it clearly means something to someone, probably Galkin, as it’s too purposefully placed to just be random. At this point, I’m willing to trust these guys don’t do anything without good reason, even if occasionally that good reason is just screwing around.
Let me bottom-line Lammping for you: I’ve never been cool. Not one day in my life. When I listen to Lammping, I feel cool. Like I’m in on all the jokes. Like sometimes things are rough but you can just roll over all that and it doesn’t matter anyway because if you’ve got a good song in your head, that’s enough. Bonus points to “Everlasting Moor” for being both an immigrant story and for the Beatles reference in the second half.
If you want the critical appraisal, you can absolutely hear Lammping pushing their sound forward on Stars We Lost, and more important, they know they’re doing it and it still doesn’t sound forced. I would expect and hope that whatever full-length might follow — and it’s worth noting that these songs might indeed show up on a next LP; that’s what happened last time — to continue along this path, because what’s ultimately happening is that, with Galkin‘s craft as the base they’re working from and the experimentalism laid overtop, they’re finding their style in an honest swath of influences. This is life, or some vision of it, and if you can’t get down, it’s your loss. Me, I’m on board with wherever they go next. I’ll probably be begging to stream it just like I was with this. Like I said, never been cool.
But we can pretend:
Mikhail Galkin on Stars We Lost:
Everlasting Moor begins with “See a man, he’s popping and locking in a parkette gazebo”. I saw a dude in an afternoon doing just that, at a small parkette close to my house, where I bring my daughter to play. He brought a boombox and was just breakdancing by himself in this little gazebo, with no one around. For whatever reason, that sparked a stream of consciousness song that was about finding our place in the world, and if unable to, creating a world in your mind you feel at home in. I’ve always wanted to write a song about my own immigrant experience, and after the first line, the words just spilled out.
Our first records were more traditional Psych/Stoner Rock albums, propelled by guitar riffs and solos, but we ultimately always wanted to reach beyond that. We love Sleep and Sabbath and King Gizzard but we also love De La Soul and Madlib, for example. The approach for this record was much closer to 3 feet High and Rising (De La), where we look at all the ideas and sounds we have in our minds almost as samples. Once you approach the recording process in that way, where you’re almost building a sound collage around a song you wrote with just a guitar, the world opens up musically. The end result is still under the psych umbrella, but we hope it translates to something that transcends cliché and categorization.
Jay came up with the idea for the record cover. When people ask us to describe our sound, its kind of difficult to nail down, so an artistic representation speaks louder sometimes. Jay was like “imagine a surfer dude wearing a black hoodie under his outfit – that’s our sound!” It made sense to me right away. The melodic and heavy and pretty and rugged all in one pot. So we played off the early Beach Boys imagery and came up with that. Jay’s pal Kagan McLeod, who does illustration for like GQ and Wall Street Journal and Newsweek was nice enough to help us out and bring our vision to life.
The name “Stars We Lost” comes from the classic tabloid headlines of when celebrities pass. I thought it sounded like a good album title and thematically reflected some of the record and Jay was down.
The foundation of Lammping’s sound is rooted in Jay Anderson’s heavy drumming and Mikhail Galkin’s melodic riffs, but with the addition of samples, drum machines, and a variety of instrumentation, the band’s sonic palate is just as indebted to Stereolab, De La Soul and Kraftwerk as it is to Black Sabbath, Blue Cheer and Sleep.
Stars We Lost, is a new EP from the band is due to come out on vinyl and digitally on March 4 2022 via We Are Busy Bodies.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 14th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Funky-fresh off releasing one of 2021’s best full-lengths in Flashjacks (review here), Toronto purveyors of mellow fuzzy groove Lammping will issue the new five-track EP Stars We Lost on March 4.
Like their 2021 EP, New Jaws (review here), it’s entirely possible that the songs of the 18-ish-minute Stars We Lost will be repurposed for the band’s next album, and if that’s the case, fine. I’ll take new Lammping as it comes. Their songs are memorable, unpretentious, engaging, and capture a nostalgic feel that transcends genre fluidly without losing their structural purpose. In short, I dig this band. More from them is only good news as far as I’m concerned.
We Are Busy Bodies has the release this time around — Flashjacks was on Echodelick Records, and 2020’s Bad Boys of Comedy (review here) was on Nasoni — and the opening track “Everlasting Moor” is streaming now, the band bringing vibes from surf and garage to coincide with their ’90s-bent do-anything-they-wantness. I’m on board, let’s go.
From their Bandcamp:
Lammping – Stars We Lost – March 4
Lammping is a psychedelic rock band based out of Toronto, founded by singer/songwriter Mikhail Galkin and drummer Jay Anderson. Meeting at a concert where Jay’s and Mikhail’s previous bands were sharing the bill, they quickly connected over their musical tastes, drawing on their love of everything from mid-90’s boom-bap to Tropicalia and library music.
The band was started as an attempt to bring the various musical influences and ideas together under a psych-rock umbrella, expanding the possibilities of heavy music. The band’s demo led to a vinyl release of the debut LP on Nasoni Records in 2020 and their sophomore album “Flashjacks” in 2021 on Echodelic Records, both albums drawing critical praise.
The foundation of Lammping’s sound is rooted in Jay Anderson’s heavy drumming and Mikhail Galkin’s melodic riffs, but with the addition of samples, drum machines, and a variety of instrumentation, the band’s sonic palate is just as indebted to Stereolab, De La Soul and Kraftwerk as it is to Black Sabbath, Blue Cheer and Sleep.
Stars We Lost, is a new EP from the band is due to come out on vinyl and digitally on March 4 2022 via We Are Busy Bodies.
Tracklisting: 1. Everlasting Moor 2. Never Phoenix 3. Home of Shadows 4. ’21 Interlude 5. Beyond The Veil
Still playing catchup with some of the best stuff from 2021, and considering it’s been 2022 for all of a week, that’s not actually that bad. To say I vouch for this playlist is moot. You’ve seen my best of 2021 post — or if you haven’t, here it is — and when it comes to the Gimme Metal show generally, my position is I’m not going to play it if I don’t think it’s cool, so yeah, I’m on board with what’s happening here.
I’ll spare you grand reflections on the year that was, musically or otherwise, and just note that there’s some good variety of stuff going on here, between the likes of Lammping, Apostle of Solitude, Black Willows and Comet Control. I dig that. I hope you do too. Pretty simple, right?
If you didn’t hear the Kadabra record — yeah, I know their name is similar to Kadavar; they’re a different band — check that track out. Ditto, uh, everything, but I know not everyone has or is willing to make the time. Life is what it is. I feel lucky Gimme still lets me do this.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 01.07.22
Yawning Sons
Cigarette Footsteps
Sky Island
Comet Control
Heavy Moments
Inside the Sun
Lammping
Intercessor
Flashjacks
VT
Apostle of Solitude
Apathy in Isolation
Until the Darkness Goes
Delving
Delving
Hirschbrunnen
LLNN
Desecrator
Unmaker
Kadabra
Graveyard
Ultra
Alastor
Death Cult
Onwards and Downwards
King Buffalo
Locusts
The Burden of Restlessness
Jointhugger
Midnight
Surrounded by Vultures
The Age of Truth
A Promise of Nothing
Resolute
High Desert Queen
Skyscraper
Secrets of the Black Moon
Stoner
Nothin’
Stoners Rule
The Kings of Frog Island
Beyond the Void
VII
Elder & Kadavar
From Deep Within
Eldovar: A Story of Darkness and Light
VT
Black Willows
Ascent
Shemurah
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Jan. 21 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
Posted in Features on December 22nd, 2021 by JJ Koczan
[PLEASE NOTE: These are not the results of the year-end poll, which is ongoing. If you haven’t contributed your picks yet, please do so here.]
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Maybe 2021 was your breakout, or your hunker-down. Your recovery from trauma or more of the same. Maybe you got six shots, maybe you didn’t get any. Maybe you got sick or lost somebody. I don’t know. Whatever else this year was, though, and whatever else it continues to be, it was busy.
In terms of the heavy underground, the ‘aftermath’ of the covid-19 pandemic resulted in a creative movement that will continue to pan out for years to come. Bands, locked down in 2020, found new directions, new sounds, sometimes new projects or collaborators. Some dug deep into their root influences, others explored new ground entirely.
One way or the other, the result across this year was a lot of really, really good music, and in uncertain times, the comfort it provided and provides shouldn’t be understated. The Obelisk Questionnaire asks what is the primary function of art. I think we learned in 2021 that art is home when you need it.
I say this every year, but please, if you leave a comment on this post — if there’s something you want to suggest I left out (as I’m sure there is; always) or you’re responding to someone else’s comment — please, please be respectful. Please be kind. To me, because I’ve worked hard on this and I don’t mind saying that, and to anyone else offering their picks or suggestions or just words of response. Let’s not fight, or do that “unthinking internet meanness” thing. I’m a human being and so are you. That’s reason enough to make an effort toward kindness. Thank you for that effort and for reading, as always.
Here we go:
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The Top 60 Albums of 2021? Really? 60?
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Yeah, really 60. I was gonna do 30 and then 50 and I was having trouble narrowing it down and it was my sister who very concisely said, “Who cares? Do what you want,” and it turned out that was precisely what I needed to hear. So if there are complaints about doing a top 60, to them I might just point out that more music is not a hardship. Maybe instead look at the swath of amazing music being made and be glad to have been born? And I’m doing what feels right, if also a little over-the-top. Maybe next year it’ll be 100, or 1,000. To quote my sister, “Who cares?”
The more the merrier.
Alors:
#31-60
31. 3rd Ear Experience, Danny Frankel’s 3rd Ear Experience
32. Slowshine, Living Light
33. LLNN, Unmaker
34. Low Orbit, Crater Creator
35. Somnuri, Nefarious Wave
36. Delving, Hirschbrunnen
37. Kal-El, Dark Majesty
38. Hippie Death Cult, Circle of Days
39. Plaindrifter, Echo Therapy
40. Motorpsycho, Kingdom of Oblivion
41. IAH, Omines
42. Here Lies Man, Ritual Divination
43. The Kings of Frog Island, VII
44. Old Man Wizard, Kill Your Servants Quietly
45. Weedpecker, IV: The Stream of Forgotten Thoughts
46. High Desert Queen, Secrets of the Black Moon
47. Kadabra, Ultra
48. Sleep Moscow, Of the Sun
49. Terry Gross, Soft Opening
50. Cavern Deep, Cavern Deep
51. 10,000 Years, II
52. Rebreather, The Line, its Width and the War Drone
53. Spiral Grave, Legacy of the Anointed
54. LáGoon, Skullactic Visions
55. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows, The Magnetic Ridge
56. Boss Keloid, Family the Smiling Thrush
57. Shun, Shun
58. Black Willows, Shemurah
59. Expo Seventy, Evolution
60. Year of Taurus, Topsoils
Notes:
The best advice I can give you is DON’T IGNORE THIS LIST. From 3rd Ear Experience’s righteous jams to Kadabra’s and Slowshine’s debuts and 10,000 Years’ hard riffing and Old Man Wizard’s melo-prog swansong and Jack Harlon’s otherworldly West, and Cavern Deep’s conceptual darkness, and Black Willows’ consuming tones and Sleep Moscow’s emotive downerism and Weedpecker progging out and Here Lies Man still being in an league entirely their own, and that Plaindrifter record and Shun and Spiral Grave and Rebreather and The Kings of Frog Island. That Terry Gross’ sheer West Coastness and Somnuri’s Northeastern intensity. Kal-El’s pulp riffage bigger than ever. Motorpsycho being Motorpsycho. IAH collaborating with Spaceslug. Boss Keloid’s prog-metal shenanigans. Hippie Death Cult’s mellow heavy. LLNN utterly killing everything. Damn this is good.
If this was a year-end top 30 in itself, I’d be like, yeah that’s a solid list, and I don’t mean that as a platitude. So please don’t ignore it. If there’s something here you haven’t heard, I can only advise you chase it down. Any one of these could be higher or lower in your own consideration, but I dug all of them, and yeah, by the time you get up to 40 or so the numbering gets pretty arbitrary, but whatever. It’s a list of stuff I think you should check out. Releases that made the year better, all of them one way or the other.
New Jersey stalwarts Monster Magnet taking on obscure and semi-obscure covers out of the heavy ’70s is pretty high on the list of ‘ultimate no-brainers.’ One might’ve preferred an album of originals, but even in a stopgap, Dave Wyndorf and company found ways to be creative with the material, and this belongs here for their take on Dust‘s “Learning to Die” (video here) alone.
Domkraft‘s third album arrived in so-you-think-you-know-what-we’re-about fashion, building out the heavy noise rock of 2018’s Flood (review here) and 2016’s The End of Electricity (review here), leaning into more textured material executed with a burgeoning patience of approach, while still keeping impact central. They’ve come into their own and one expects they’ll continue to reshape what that means over time.
Consuming and shamanic. A record that really took the time to construct its own world for the listener to inhabit in its songs. Sunnata‘s fourth full-length, Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth brought together six tracks that resonated with purposeful depth and a cold-psych ambience that allowed space for minimalism and movements of blistering heavy in kind. Not for everyone, maybe, but each piece truly added to the flowing progression of the whole, showing the conceptual, ritualized strengths of the band.
Five years after their debut, Sins of the Elders (review here), Massachusetts sludge-of-death metallers Conclave — now with a second guitarist — brought forth epic punishment and bleakness befitting our age. A willful, harsh slog, Dawn of Days had few comforts to offer in “Death Blows Cold” or “Haggard,” and the mourning finale “Suicide Funeral,” while allowed to be flourish in its way, found a means to express its grief while staying honest to underpinnings of extreme metal. Not an easy listen, not supposed to be.
Some records you just can’t fight. And why would you? Quick turnaround for North Carolina’s Crystal Spiders after their Sept. 2020 debut, Molt (review here), but the three-piece of bassist/vocalist Brenna Leath (also Lightning Born and The Hell-No), drummer/vocalist Tradd Yancey (also Doomsday Profit) and guitarist/producer Mike Dean (also of C.O.C.) demonstrated a range the first record only hinted at, touching on earthy psych, dirty punk, classic heavy and more with evident ease and a marked sense of craft.
Hungarian collective River Flows Reverse brought lysergic healing as part of the Psychedelic Source Records milieu, with a particularly folkish and exploratory vibe branching out across pieces like the serene “At the Gates of the Perennial” or the acoustic-led “Rain it Rages,” creating gorgeous atmospheres from existential dread and a sheer need for outlet. Spontaneous in its spirit but with a thoughtful undercurrent, it’s by no means the highest-profile release on this list, but it also offered something nothing else did in quite the same way. Pastoralia for another world.
A decade on from their debut and five years after their last album, Washington D.C. roll-prone trio Borracho came back not only with terrifying cover art, but also an unabashed look at the world around them, socially conscious lyrics topping their hallmark heavy riffage in a way that their prior work had yet to engage. Pound of Flesh was an organic step forward for the band in sound and songwriting, and their perspective of wondering what the hell happened to pretty much everything was relatable, to say the least, but the nuances of arrangement and vibe went a long way too in changing things up around their classic-style sound.
Larson‘s gonna Larson. As to what that might mean on a given release, that’s harder to say. Drawing from a decades-long background in punk and hardcore, heavy Southern and acoustic songwriting, as well as a pedigree long enough to take up the rest of this post, Favorite Iron was one of three outings issued on the same day in September in a creative splurge and found him playing all instruments himself (horns on opener “Backpage” notwithstanding) and imbuing each piece with its own purpose in feeding the richness of the entire work. And somehow, was humble in it, putting it out on Bandcamp, no PR, no fanfare. Just wasn’t there, then was. Very Larson.
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22. Spaceslug, Memorial
Self-released. Review pending.
Issued just on Dec. 10, Memorial arrives from Poland’s Spaceslug in suitably mournful fashion and with it, the trio seem to dive into more personal, human issues than ever before. Loss, uncertainty. It’s certainly a record for the time in which it’s made, but neither do the band neglect their own growth as they continue to incorporate blackened screams along with their more grunge-derived clean vocals, a blend of mellow heavy psych and harsher presence coinciding. After a productive few years with the 2020 Leftovers EP (review here) and 2019’s Reign of the Orion (review here), Spaceslug have managed to push even deeper into their sound. They do so with an increasing sense of mastery.
Unexpected and appreciated in kind. I wouldn’t have bet that Poughkeepsie, New York, glitch-grind innovators Genghis Tron would return with a new record after 13 years, and I wouldn’t have guessed either that Dream Weapon would bring both the revamped lineup and the refined focus on melody that it did. Live drums gave new heart to the songs, and thoughtfully layered washes of keys and guitar brought a sense of worldbuilding that, while in contrast to the freneticism of the band’s past work, was refreshing in its honesty and refusal to be anything other than what they wanted it to be. Caught a bunch of hype early and then disappeared, but the songs will hold up long after this year is over. If you get it, you get it.
The story of Sweden’s Vokonis isn’t too dissimilar from that of Spaceslug above in that the band set its foundation in a certain kind of heavy worship and have moved outward from there over time. For the Borås trio, their latest outing expanded on their progressive ideology, taking the heavy riffs of their earliest work and setting them to a winding course while also incorporating a rawer vocal along with the cleaner shouting. In addition to being topped off by the best album cover I saw all year, Odyssey proved to be a journey of mind for those ready to take it, and showed that Vokonis‘ maturity, their finding themselves, is likely to be an ongoing process. And if they want to keep bringing Per Wiberg in on keys, that’ll be fine too.
What a blast this record is. Warm tones, classic vibes, ’90s alt weirdness given a little extra push into heavy. I didn’t even care that half of the thing had been released as an EP prior, putting on Lammping‘s Flashjacks was and very much still is a joy. No pretense, no bullshit, just songs, songs, songs. Give me “Intercessor” and “Jaws of Life” and “Lammping” any day of the week as the Toronto outfit hold down both attitude and humor while inviting you in on their good time. 10 tracks/33 minutes — they weren’t even trying to take up too much of your day. Just a short and sweet set on an LP and then they roll out until the next one. May it arrive sooner rather than later. I’m not a party guy, but this is my kind of party.
The opening duo “Mission From God” and “Nothing Left for You” gave Fractal Altar an initial thrust that the heavy grunge of “Not Two” complemented with darker edge before the swinging “Hold On” tipped back toward forward momentum. “The False Lack,” a highlight, found some middle ground en route to a back half of the LP that culminated with the sub-nine-minute title-track, psychedelic ritualization coming to a head with spaced-out vocals over a black hole of low end. The weirder Snail get, the better they get in my mind, and more than half a decade after Feral (review here), they were ready to get plenty weird here. Wouldn’t trade that for the world.
Aggro-edged Philly heavy rock and roll, pulling influence not only from its own backdrop but from heavy modern and old, perhaps the best thing one can say about Resolute was that it lived up to the lofty declaration in the title The Age of Truth gave it. Whether they were playing to more atmospheric ideas on “Palace of Rain” and “Return to Ships” or digging into classic heavy blues on “Salome” or finding new levels of intensity on “Horsewhip,” it was clear The Age of Truth consciously set a high standard for themselves and put the effort in to meet it every step of the way. Clear and sharp in its production, it’s still a record you can put on and be blown away by each individual performance, as well as how they come together. Dudes only put the bar higher.
It was not an easy task for Norway’s Jointhugger to follow either their 2021 single-song EP Reaper Season (review here) or 2020’s debut, I Am No One (review here), but even amid a still-solidifying lineup, the band conjured listenability and weight in post-Monolordian fashion without either aping that band’s methodology or ignoring their own nascent sonic identity. There’s more growing to do, and one hopes that as they go they’ll hold at least somewhat to the pace of releases thus far established, but there was no getting past the accomplishments of Surrounded by Vultures, not the least because of the 700-foot ice wall of tone the band built along the path. Potential and achievement stomping hand-in-hand into an unknown heavy future.
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15. Temple Fang, Fang Temple
Released by Right on Mountain & Electric Spark. Reviewed Nov. 23.
I’ll be honest, I was a little bummed when Fang Temple got released and I didn’t even know it was coming. I got over the ego bruise quick with the help of the record itself, however, the Amsterdam-based psychedelic spiritualists taking the live-album method from 2020’s Live at Merleyn (review here) and using an on-stage performance as the basic tracks around which the rest of Fang Temple was constructed. The result was a resonant joy in heavy psych; a record as satisfying to lose yourself in as to consciously follow along its charted but spontaneous-feeling path. They’ve had some lineup shifts too, but gosh I hope there’s more to come, whether I get an early heads up or not.
Would you have bet there’d be a second Yawning Sons album, more than 10 years after 2009’s Ceremony to the Sunset (review here; reissue review here)? I might not have, but the collaboration between UK instrumentalists Sons of Alpha Centauri and Yawning Man guitarist and desert rock figurehead Gary Arce brought a slew of memorable moments, including guest spots from Fatso Jetson/Yawning Man‘s Mario Lalli and Hermano‘s Dandy Brown, and return appearances from Scott Reeder and Wendy Rae Fowler. It’s still impossible to know if Yawning Sons will be a band or a once-every-decade happening, but Sky Island proved they were more than a cult one-off. A third outing would only be welcome.
Careening back and forth between its space rock and more drifting psychedelic impulses, Comet Control‘s Inside the Sun brought varied pleasures of craft and melody, saving its more contemplative stretches for the peaceful immersion of “The Afterlife” or “Heavy Moments” and “The Deserter” later on after the duly cosmic launch of “Keep on Spinnin'” and the buzzing “Secret Life” established the pattern of movement under the drift. Whichever way a given track went — and it was by no means limited to one or the other with “Good Day to Say Goodbye” and “Inside the Sun” in the album’s midsection — the Toronto-based outfit worked mostly as a two-piece in putting it together, but the lushness of the ensuing work took what the band had accomplished on 2016’s Center of the Maze (review here) and added even more dimension.
They should’ve called it “endless repeat.” The mellow heft of Swedish unit Maha Sohona‘s sophomore full-length is one that I just kept going back to, time and time again, and the appeal of doing so only grew with more listening. Melodically capable but not overblown, songs like “Luftslott” and “Orbit X” brought to mind Sungrazer and earlier Spaceslug with a bittersweet nostalgia (in the case of the former, certainly) even as Maha Sohona used them to chart their own stylistic course. It was seven years between their first and second records, so I’m not going to predict when/if a follow-up will come, but Endless Searcher made my 2021 better to the point that I just put on “Leaves” and can feel the serotonin being released. It feels only right to honor that by having them here.
With a permanent-seeming dissolution as context for its arrival, End of Forever wrapped a run for Samsara Blues Experiment that could only really be called successful in terms of what they accomplished during their time, but moreover, it underscored what made them such a special group to start with, its progressive psychedelia still developing in persona as the band was coming to a close. Guitarist/vocalist Christian Peters, having spent the prior few years in various solo explorations, brought increased use of keys and synth, and in combination with the organic fluidity of the rhythm section of bassist/backing vocalist Hans Eiselt and drummer Thomas Vedder, that let Samsara Blues Experiment say something new even as they were also saying goodbye. If they’re truly done for good, they’ll be missed.
An awaited debut from this Philadelphia trio, Lupi Amoris confronted high expectations and surpassed them with a complexity of atmosphere that was surprising even after seeing them live multiple times, taking the oft-psychedelic fuzz of Heavy Temple‘s previous output and setting it to a more rigid focus and a daring sense of intent. This was a record that came about after years of lineup changes and tumult, but made cohesion from chaos, and there was not one second of its stretch that didn’t serve the album as a whole. Even more than 2016’s Chassit EP (review here), which I’d previously counted as their first long-player, Lupi Amoris showed toward what Heavy Temple‘s potential had been driving all along, and its realization was stunning. Whatever they do next, whenever they do it, will also be confronting high expectations.
At this point, I feel ready to posit Indianapolis four-piece Apostle of Solitude as the best doom band in America. I know that’s a loaded statement because there are as many kinds of doom as there are of heavy metal itself, but if you look at a group bringing new ideas to the established traditions and tenets of the style Apostle of Solitude have put themselves in the uppermost of the upper echelon. At just 36 minutes, Until the Darkness Goes feels likewise concise and engaging, its songs holding the emotive thread that has always typified the band’s work, but engaging more vocal harmonies between guitarists Chuck Brown and Steve Janiak (now both also in The Gates of Slumber) atop the densely weighted impact from bassist Mike Naish (also Shroud of Vulture) and drummer Corey Webb. Don’t think they’re the best US doom band right now? Find me someone better.
With a wholesale invite to either take the heat or remove your ass from the kitchen, Greenleaf tossed out Echoes From a Mass as their eighth LP some 20 years after their first, 2001’s Revolution Rock (discussed here), and reminded their listenership of the songwriting chemistry that’s emerged over the better part of the last decade between founding guitarist Tommi Holappa — and yes, I’ve heard rumors he’s got new Dozer in progress as well; we’ll see in 2022 — and vocalist Arvid Hällagård, whose work here outshone even 2018’s Hear the Rivers (review here), establishing the conversation between instruments and voice as the crucial element in Greenleaf circa 2021. A heavy blues shuffle from bassist Hans Frölich and drummer Sebastian Olsson and production by Karl Daniel Lidén only up the asset count working in the band’s favor, and on any given day I might still be walking around with “Bury Me My Son” on repeat in my brain. No complaints.
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7. Blackwater Holylight, Silence/Motion
Released by RidingEasy Records. Reviewed Oct. 18.
At a pivotal moment, Blackwater Holylight pivoted. The Portland-based outfit’s third full-length found them pressing outward from their heavy psychedelic and dream-pop foundations into bleaker atmospheres, using Silence/Motion as a means for processing trauma and perhaps to revamp their audience’s expectations of the kind of band they want to be. 2019’s Veils of Winter (review here) and 2018’s self-titled debut (review here) brought marked progress from one to the next, but bassist/vocalist/guitarist Allison “Sunny” Faris, guitarist/bassist Mikayla Mayhew, synthesist Sarah McKenna, and drummer Eliese Dorsay (Erika Osterhout now plays guitar but isn’t on the record) brought on board producer A.L.N. of Mizmor, and the record’s guest vocals from Thou‘s Bryan Funck and Mike Paparo of Inter Arma brought flourish of more extreme metals than anything the band had done before. As a result, their next outing could go pretty much anywhere, so mission likely accomplished for this one.
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6. Kadavar & Elder, Eldovar – A Story in Darkness and Light
Answering the call of being unable to tour and presumably tired of sitting on their hands as a result, Berlin-based outfits Kadavar and Elder (minus the latter’s bassist Jack Donovan, who lives in the US and was under travel restriction) hit the studio together earlier this year to piece together jams and, reportedly, take a “see what happens” approach. What happened was a sound that belonged solely to neither band and drew enough from both to legitimately earn the title Eldovar. Rife with melody brought to bear amid a threat of the breakout that arrived in “Blood Moon Night” — which, while the most uptempo, was not necessarily the highlight of the record — it was an album perhaps carved from experiments, but one that seemed to brim with a sense of underlying direction, even after the fact. Its shimmer felt like a light being cast through a dark year, defiant and peaceful. That two of the current generation’s leaders in heavy rock could come together in such brazen fashion was a noteworthy novelty, but it was the way that Eldovar stood on its own that made it so special.
Gonna get this off my chest while I can. After this one came out, I saw on the vast sphere of social media some disappointed response, like what was up with Stöner being so stripped down and just rocking riffs and all that? Okay. The hell did you expect? That’s the point of the band! It’s Brant Bjork and Nick Oliveri — and Ryan Güt, also of Bjork‘s solo band — purposefully digging back to their roots, playing the simplest form possible of the low desert punk they helped create together in Kyuss. It wasn’t about “let’s innovate,” it was about “I dig the Ramones and Fatso Jetson so let’s have a good time.” You got the ultra-grooves of “Own Yer Blues” and “Tribe/Fly Girl,” the Oliveri-fronted punk of “Evel Never Dies,” and the bluesman’s telling-it-like-it-is of “The Older Kids” and “Rad Stays Rad,” “Nothin'” and “Stand Down.” They were in, done, and out. I chalked some of the “meh” up to the studio album arriving so soon after their Live in the Mojave Desert stream (review here) and live album (review here), but even so, damn, be thankful these songs got made in the first place. With yer spoiled ass.
Word to anyone who’s managed to read this far: I hear King Buffalo might have an Xmas surprise in store as relates to this album, so heads up. Acheron — filmed as well as audio-recorded — was the second in an intended series of three yet to be completed of albums Rochester, NY, trio King Buffalo composed during the pandemic lockdown. Like so many, their inability to tour resulted in a need for another outlet. Following The Burden of Restlessness (review here) would be a challenge, but the band shifted focus in sound toward four extended pieces of heavy psychedelia — not completely escapist from the reality surrounding them, but attempting for sure to shift the mindset through which they (and the listener) were experiencing it. Traveling to record in the remote location of Howe Caverns, guitarist/vocalist/synthesist Sean McVay, bassist/keyboardist Dan Reynolds and drummer Scott Donaldson found a way to immediately differentiate their second album of 2021 from the first while offering a shift in sound that leaned less into darkness — ironic, maybe considering it was tracked underground — than its predecessor while retaining the band’s ever-forward progression of sound.
One would be hard-pressed to find a more suitable Halloween release. London-based heavy rockers Green Lung brought together a collection of songs that, yes, were duly autumnal in their spirit, but also refreshing in their sound, unashamed in their readiness to engage their audience, and in cuts like “Old Gods,” “Reaper’s Scythe,” “You Bear the Mark” and “Graveyard Sun” tapped into a cross-genre appeal that was brought together with impeccable quality of craft and production. Classic and new at the same time. Thoughtful in arrangement, Black Harvest nonetheless skirted pretense and kept to a basic verse/chorus appeal that felt easy to get into, and the complexity held in the material only revealed itself more with time. It is an album in which something new will be heard for years, and it not only answered the call to step up after 2019’s Woodland Rites (review here), but put Green Lung in a different echelon of bands entirely. They are an act whose influence will be felt, and not that the world needs another reason to hope for a “return” for live music, but Black Harvest is one for sure. Its songs deserve to be heard by however many ears they can reach.
Monolord are the most essential band in heavy music. Whatever qualifier you want to put on that in terms of style, go ahead, it’s still true. The Gothenburg trio’s fifth album doubled as an anticipated follow-up to No Comfort (review here), which was 2019’s album of the year, and brought no dip in the quality of their craft, the breadth of their style or the force of their execution. In addition to having already ignited a generation’s worth of riffers in their wake, Monolord have steadily progressed in their own approach, and Your Time to Shine skillfully mirrored the structure of No Comfort before it while pushing ahead of where the band were two years ago. Someone needs to build a statue in honor of Mika Häkki‘s bass tone, let alone the riffs of guitarist/vocalist Thomas V. Jäger and the stomp/production of drummer Esben Willems, but with cuts like “The Weary,” “Your Time to Shine,” “I’ll Be Damned,” “To Each Their Own” and “The Sirens of Yersinia” — oh wait, that’s all of them — it was the entire band shining, a plural “your” that was realized in the work. The superficial bleakness of the cover art spoke to the death perhaps of an entire world, but also the new growth and life to inevitably emerge therefrom. The songs did no less.
A record for the times. The record for the times. There are a few reasons King Buffalo‘s third full-length and first in the pandemic-born series, The Burden of Restlessness, deserves to be the album of the year. There’s no reasonably denying the level of songwriting or the move into hard-edged progressive rock and metal of its songs, or the boldness of the manner in which the Rochester trio — again, Sean McVay, Dan Reynolds and Scott Donaldson — made that move, or the resonance of the finished product. It’s a very, very, very good album. Fine. What stands out to me though in thinking of The Burden of Restlessness in context of the addled period between 2020 and 2021 is the fact that it is completely unflinching. From the striking depiction of decay in the front visuals by Zdzisław Beksiński to the personal-seeming nature of songs like “The Knocks,” “Burning” — the opening lyric, “I turn my head from the stars” a direct contrast to “Orion can you hear me?” from the band’s 2016 debut, Orion (review here) — “Silverfish” and “Hebetation” and the speaking to the outside world of “Locusts,” “Grifter” and the maybe-daring-t0-hope-for-something-better conclusion in “Loam,” The Burden of Restlessness gave comfort to its listenership through shared experience rather than platitude. It didn’t tell you it was going to get better. It shared the space you were in, and acknowledged all the unknown corners of that space. This spirit, coupled with the outright sonic achievement on the part of the band, made the album a statement poised to ring out as a document of its weighted era and a standard for the expressive depth of its creativity.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2021: Honorable Mention
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Sit tight, we’ve got a ways to go here.
Acid Magus, Wyrd Syster
Acid Mammoth, Caravan
Age Total, Age Total
Alastor, Onwards and Downwards
Amenra, De Doorn
The Angelus, Why We Never Die
The Answer Lies in the Black Void, Forlorn
Apollo80, Beautiful, Beautiful Desolation
Arlekin, The Secret Garden
Bog Wizard, Miasmic Purple Smoke
Book of Wyrms, Occult New Age
Bongzilla, Weedsconsin
Canyyn, Canyyn
Craneium, Unknown Heights
Delco Detention, It Came From the Basement
Demon Head, Viscera
Doctor Smoke, Dreamers and the Dead
Dread Sovereign, Alchemical Warfare
Dream Unending, Tide Turns Eternal
Duel, In Carne Persona
Dunbarrow, III
DVNE, Etemen Ænka
Eyehategod, A History of Nomadic Behavior
Bill Fisher, Hallucinations of a Higher Truth
Funeral, Praesentalis in Aeternum
Fuzzy Lights, Burials
Holy Death Trio, Introducing…
Iceburn, Asclepius
Jakethehawk, Hinterlands
Kanaan, Earthbound
Khemmis, Deceiver
King Woman, Celestial Blues
Kvasir, 4
Lingua Ignota, Sinner Get Ready
Los Disidentes del Sucio Motel, Polaris
Low Flying Hawks, Fuyu
Low Orbit, Crater Creator
Malady, Ainavahantaa
Mastiff, Leave Me the Ashes of the Earth
Mythic Sunship, Wildfire
Zack Oakley, Badlands
Octopus Ride, II
Øresund Space Collective, Universal Travels
Red Beard Wall, 3
Robots of the Ancient World, Mystic Goddess
Emma Ruth Rundle, Engine of Hell
Saturnia, Stranded in the Green
Savanah, Olympus Mons
Sergio Ch., La Danza de los Toxicos
Shiva the Destructor, Find the Others
Smote, Bodkin
Snake Mountain Revival, Everything in Sight
Snowy Dunes, Sastrugi
Sonic Demon, Vendetta
The Spacelords, False Dawn
Spelljammer, Abyssal Trip
Spidergawd, VI
Swallow the Sun, Moonflowers
Thunderchief, Synanthrope
Thunder Horse, Chosen One
Ultra Void, Ultra Void
Vouna, Atropos
WEEED, Do You Fall?
When the Deadbolt Breaks, As Hope Valley Burns
Witchcryer, When Their Gods Come for You
Witchrot, Hollow
Wolftooth, Blood & Iron
Wowod, Yarost’ I Proshchenie
Notes:
I feel immediately defensive here, and that kind of sucks, to be honest. Here’s the basic truth: I know people like different things. I know people think different things are important, that everybody works hard making records, that lists are bullshit and that people go back to listen to different things more over time.
What I’d ask is that after 60 records in the list proper and another 60-plus here, you please give me a break. I’ve reviewed well over 250 releases this year, so neither is this everything, nor is it nothing. I’ve done my best. And if one of these records is your album of the year? Awesome! I’m so, so glad for that. I can’t and won’t argue. I’m sure this list is incomplete and I’m sure I’ll add more to it over the next couple days — always do — but if you didn’t hear anything this year and you take this list and you take the other 60 records, listen to one per week, you’ll have enough new music to carry you into 2023, and I feel pretty good about that.
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Debut Album of the Year 2021
Heavy Temple, Lupi Amoris
Other notable debuts (alphabetically):
Acid’s Trip, Strings of Soul
Age Total, Age Total
Bala, Maleza
Bog Wizard, Miasmic Purple Smoke
Bottomless, Bottomless
Cancervo, 1
Cave of Swimmers, Aurora
Cavern Deep, Cavern Deep
Chamán, Maleza
Cosmic Reaper, Cosmic Reaper
DayGlo Mourning, Dead Star
Delving, Hirschbrunnen
Den Der Hale, Harsyra
Dome Runner, Conflict State Design
Draken, Draken
Gangrened, Deadly Algorithm
Gristmill, Heavy Everything
High Desert Queen, Secrets of the Black Moon
Holy Death Trio, Introducing…
The Judas Knife, Death is the Thing With Feathers
Kadabra, Ultra
Kadavar & Elder, Eldovar – A Story of Darkness and Light
Kvasir, 4
Plaindrifter, Echo Therapy
Shiva the Destructor, Find the Others
Slowshine, Living Light
Smote, Bodkin
Snake Mountain Revival, Everything in Sight
Sonic Demon, Vendetta
Sow Discord, Quiet Earth
Stöner, Stoners Rule
Suncraft, Flat Earth Rider
Terry Gross, Soft Opening
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, TTBS
Vestamaran, Bungalow Rex
White Void, Anti
Witchrot, Hollow
Wooden Fields, Wooden Fields
Wytch, Exordium
Year of Taurus, Topsoils
Notes:
Yes, technically the Stöner record was higher than Heavy Temple on the top 60. I took into account the fact that Brant Bjork and Nick Oliveri have worked together on and off for 30-plus years in my final assessment and decided Lupi Amoris, as a debut album, deserved the top spot. I actually had a numbered list going — Stöner were two, Delving was three — but decided to just let the Heavy Temple stand on its own instead, which it certainly earned.
One could see the pandemic shuffle of creativity peaking out though. Kadavar & Elder’s collaboration was a debut as well, but it was just one of the new projects or collaborations to surface this year. Note Slowshine is Earthship by another name (and purpose) and so are Dome Runner. There was a wash of diggable debuts, loaded with potential, and again, I don’t think this list is exhaustive so much as it’s a primer for some of the best stuff out there as I see/hear it. I’ll spare you wax poetry about the forward movement of genre overall, but suffice to say that in acts like Plaindrifter, Shiva the Destructor, Witchrot, Age Total and High Desert Queen, among others here, such things were readily apparent.
Your time would not be wasted with any of these, I just thought that Heavy Temple, as a first album, was a special achievement and deserved its place as debut of the year.
Short Release of the Year 2021
Jointhugger, Reaper Season
Other notable EPs, Splits, Demos, etc.:
Aiwass & ASTRAL CONstruct, Solis in Stellis
All Are to Return, II
Birth, Birth
Blackwolfgoat, (In) Control / Tired of Dying
Bog Wizard/Dust Lord, Split
Boozewa, First Contact
Carlton Melton, Night Pillers
Cerbère, Cerbère
Cortége, Chasing Daylight
The Crooked Whispers, Dead Moon Night
Doomsday Profit, In Idle Orbit
Dopelord, Reality Dagger
EMBR, 1021
Enslaved, Caravans to the Outer Worlds
Fuzz Sagrado, Fuzz Sagrado
Guhts, Blood Feather
Howling Giant, Alteration
Ikitan, Darvaza y Brinicle
Insect Ark, Future Fossils
Erik Larson, Measwe
Lurcher, Coma
Merlock, You Cannot Be Saved
Moonstone, 1904
Morningstar Delirium, Morningstar Delirium
Mos Generator, The Lantern
Nineteen Thirteen, MCMXIII
Old Horn Tooth, True Death
Planet of the 8s, Lagrange Point Vol.1
Psychonaut/SÂVER, Emerald
Solemn Lament, Solemn Lament
Sorcia, Death by Design
Spaceslug, The Event Horizon
Spawn, Live at Moonah Arts Collective
Stonus, Séance
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Rosalee
Ultra Void, Ultra Void
Ungraven/Slomatics, Split
Wall, II
Weedevil, The Death is Coming
The Whims of the Great Magnet, Share the Sun
Per Wiberg, All is Well in the Land of the Living But for the Rest of Us… Lights Out
Notes:
Again, look at the amazing swath of new creativity happening. Guhts, Boozewa, Aiwass & ASTRAL CONstruct — even Wall with their second EP — Morningstar Delirium, Fuzz Sagrado, Doomsday Profit, Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships: these are new bands and projects coming together, some from established artists and some not, but the shuffling of sound and priorities is a hallmark of the last year-plus’ output, and it can be seen here for sure. Yeah, bands like Enslaved and Dopelord put out killer EPs, but it’s acts like Moonstone — with just one prior release behind them — or Howling Giant working instrumentally for the first time, that struck me even harder.
As regards Jointhugger in the top pick, I took into account the “oh shit this band isn’t fucking around” factor. Coming off their first record and headed into their second in quick succession, the single-song “Reaper Season” served due notice that the debut was no fluke and that the Norwegian outfit had no interest in resting on riffy laurels. This section is always tough since it encompasses different kinds of releases — singles, EPs, whatnot — but in terms of serving the band’s overarching progression, Jointhugger made a difficult choice markedly easier for me.
I won’t take away from the accomplishments of anyone on the list above — or the inevitable ones I forgot, either. Enslaved’s ever-outbound growth is worth a significant mention, and arrivals like Lurcher and Old Horn Tooth kept were undeniable. I’ll nod here too to Psychonaut/SÂVER and Ungraven/Slomatics’ split releases and that The Whims of the Great Magnet. And, and, and…
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Late Releases
Partially affected by the Covid-19 pandemic — like everybody’s everything — vinyl pressing delays meant that many albums have come out in the last month or two that were intended to be earlier. I tried to account for these in the lists above, but thinking about November and December specifically, records by Low Orbit, Spidergawd, Weedpecker, King Buffalo, Spaceslug, Bog Wizard, Raibard, Funeral, Temple Fang, Kadavar & Elder, and Wolftooth can’t be left out as part of the larger narrative of 2021 in music.
I can’t say I’ve listened to, as an example, Spidergawd, as much as to Greenleaf or any number of things that were released in the beginning of the year, but neither do I feel like the lack relative passage of time since something came out should be held against it, especially given the circumstances. As much as the ‘music industry’ shuts down at the end of any given year, 2021 seems to have plowed straight through to the finish.
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Live in the Mojave Desert
While we’re marking the highlights of 2021, it’s impossible not to note the continued proliferation of livestreaming as a (woefully inadequate but take what you can get) substitute experience for show-going and touring. In the case of director Ryan Jones’ Live in the Mojave Desert series, it was an opportunity to turn lemons into concert films of true measure, as well as live albums for Earthless, Stöner, Nebula, Spirit Mother and Mountain Tamer that held their own merit.
There have been a few noteworthy streams over the last year-plus issued in pay-per-view fashion, but in terms of the scale of the presentation, few have held a candle to what Live in the Mojave Desert accomplished — only Enslaved’s ‘Cinematic Tour’ comes close in my mind, and that’s a different animal entirely, ditto Roadburn Redux — or have managed to capture an atmosphere in the same way that not only gives a setting for the music, but adds to the experience of the viewer. It’s not just a show that otherwise would happen in a venue; it’s a show that would happen once in a lifetime.
Whatever context brings that about, it is something to celebrate.
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Looking Ahead to 2022
—
I love looking forward to new music. I love it. In a spirit of anticipation and friendship and righteous tunes to come, here’s a list of bands who’ve either confirmed new stuff in the works or are recording or have preorders up or are subject to rampant speculation. In no order whatsoever:
Elder, Toad Venom, Torche, King Buffalo, High on Fire, El Perro, Yatra, Bevar Sea, Birth, Pia Isa, Colour Haze, JIRM, Samavayo, Tortuga, El Supremo, Ruby the Hatchet, MNRVA, Buss, White Ward, Dreadnought, Merlock, Gozu, Westing, Eric Wagner, Stöner, Blue Heron, All Souls, Arekin, 40 Watt Sun, Caustic Casanova, Deathwhite, Freedom Hawk, Hazemaze, Stoned Jesus, Mothership, Desert Storm, Poseidótica, Sasquatch, Conan, Seremonia, Långfinger, Wo Fat, Earthless, Dozer, Red Sun Atacama, REZN, No Man’s Valley, Ufomammut, Geezer, Messa, Clutch, Abronia, Somali Yacht Club, Sun Voyager, Atavismo, Some Pills for Ayala, Eight Bells, Stinking Lizaveta, Borracho, The Crooked Whispers, Naxatras, Rotor, Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, Righteous Fool, High Priest, High Priestess, Loop, Elliott’s Keep, Fostermother, Valley of the Sun, Boris, Deathbell, Siena Root, My Sleeping Karma, Firebreather, Matt Pike, Mythosphere, Crowbar, JIRM, Mount Saturn, Supersonic Blues, Wizzerd, 10,000 Years…
If any names are repeated there, consider it a sign that I’m looking forward to that record twice. And if you’ve got a name to add to that list, I’m all for it. As I said, I love looking forward to new music.
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Thank You
—
Well, I guess that’s it. I’m not anymore done with 2021 than it’s done with itself — some of the releases featured above have yet to be reviewed; looking at you, Spaceslug — and there’s always catching up to do. No coincidence January will feature the second part of the Quarterly Review that began this month.
But while I’ve got you, if I still do, I want to say thank you, thank you, thank you as always for your continued support of The Obelisk, this site, in the various ways it is shown, whether that’s liking a post, sharing a link, leaving a (hopefully kind) comment or buying some sweatpants. More than a decade after the fact, I cannot hope to tell you how much it means to me sitting here in front of my laptop to have that support and encouragement, day in and year out. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart and with ever fiber of my wretched being. Thank you.
[Click play above to stream Lammping’s Flashjacks in full. Album is out digitally on Aug. 27 with vinyl to follow Sept. 17 on Echodelick Records.]
There is a marked element of studio experimentation throughout Lammping‘s self-produced second full-length, Flashjacks. Also their label debut for Echodelick Records, the Toronto outfit formed by songwriter Mikhail Galkin (vocals, guitar, etc.) and drummer Jay Anderson — plus Matthew Aldred on backing vocals and Scott Hannigan on bass — show this immediately on opening cut “Intercessor,” beginning with a swirling-up-from-the-past echoing sample that speaks to the purported nostalgic sensibility one also sees mirrored in the cover art.
This ‘looking back’ of course has some effect on the mood of the album overall, but as Lammping follow-up Aug. 2020’s righteous Bad Boys of Comedy (review here), which was released by Nasoni Records, these 10 songs across just 33 minutes (read: short songs) use classic ideas as a means to move forward by digging deeper into their sound. Samples, drum machines, varying arrangements of fuzz guitar and bass — the latter of which is positively, gloriously farty on “Jaws of Life,” though whether that’s Galkin or Hannigan playing, I’m not sure — and various effects manipulations result in stretches, like the vocal drone that backs closer “Other Shoe” for its first minute-plus and returns again in its last minute as well, thereby speaking both to the band and Galkin as the main composer following whims of what works in the material as well as thinking in larger terms about the structure of the whole song and, indeed, album.
Flashjacks never repeats itself any more than it wants to, but its choruses are infectious beginning with “Intercessor,” which takes an Om-style tantric ride cymbal for a different kind of meditative trip, abidingly and unflinchingly mellow, like you played your 45 at 33RPM and decided it sounded better that way. It’s a nigh-on-perfect launch for a record full of ready departures from one inclusion to the next, capping with drifting keys and handclaps that foreshadow some of the more funk and soul-derived aspects that come later in pieces like the eponymous “Lammping,” “Jaws of Life” and “The Funkiest.”
The latter two of those — “Jaws of Life” and “The Funkiest” — were featured on earlier 2021’s New Jaws EP (review here), along with “Neverbeen,” the penultimate interlude “Big Time the Big Boss” and “Other Shoe,” and they make up the bulk of side B together, save for “Neverbeen,” which swaps with “Cleaning Up,” the sorry-we-can’t-have-drums-here-they-already-melted progression of which serves as a tie-in with second track “Heartland Rock,” which is more straightforward in structure, perhaps, but which, by the time it lets go into the solo that rounds out about the last 30 seconds (before it cuts to static) of its total 2:13, has already crafted its own idyllic portrait.
There’s a duality of purpose throughout Flashjacks that’s maybe easier to read into the proceedings in part because of some of the material being previously released on its own — and it’s all Lammping, to be sure — but “New October” emphasizes the ultra-laid-back dreamed-out fluidity that coincides with the funk to come on side B that’s prefaced with the transition from the swirling guitar noodling of “Neverbeen” into “Lammping” itself, which is more rhythmically forward, groovier, and, just for a verse or two, playfully makes it hard to tell whether Lammping are drawing influence from ’70s funk or the ’90s hip-hop that sampled it, the chorus, guitar solo, bass and drums all tapping into a flow that’s timeless in its cool, however anchored in odd-numbered decades of yore it may be.
Galkin and Anderson shift back and forth throughout the record, and their sonic persona becomes one more aspect of craft that’s a toy to be molded and shaped as they will, as songs like “Neverbeen” solos out a sub-three-minute stretch of nostalgic yearning and “Cleaning Up” pulls away from the roll of “The Funkiest” for a less tangible psychedelic foray ahead of the effects-laced organ on “Big Time the Big Boss.”
Thus, Lammping‘s sound is not a settled issue, and if “Heartland Rock” and “New October” and “Cleaning Up” are newer, they may indicate some further push into experimentalism to come, but it’s been a year since their debut, so however quickly they may or may not continue to work, they’re still just getting started. Given the underlying clarity and efficiency of their songwriting — and even the placement “Intercessor,” “Jaws of Life” and “Other Shoe” as the side A opener, side B opener and finale, respectively, as the only pieces over four minutes long and anchors around which the other material winds and currents — and the way in which these tracks speak to each other, Flashjacks builds on what the band accomplished with Bad Boys of Comedy and speaks to the longer-term potential of the group.
Maybe it’s ironic that a record geared toward examination of a past — an imagined one? certainly “Neverbeen” seems to remind without saying a word that most nostalgia is false nostalgia, though its title could just as easily be derived from “has-been,” so who knows — should entice one to look ahead and think of what a group might do in the future, but ultimately, Lammping‘s strengths are here, in the present as well. The home-studio intimacy of their experimentalism is nothing if not of-the-moment, as is the willful escapism of their trance-inducing, headphone-ready psychedelia and aural detail and depth. And their fun, which is no less their own than anything else they offer across these songs. Flashjacks, the word which no doubt is some kind of grew-up-in-this-time-and-place reference, is good vibes through and through, even as “Other Shoe” leaves off with its last strum to a few seconds of ominous silence.
And maybe that other shoe will drop their next time out, and will that be in a year, two, three? What will the songs sound like? What will the world be like? Where are we going and who the hell are we anyway? These questions are exactly the kind of needless bullshit Lammping help you leave behind while you listen, and if you want to complain about something, complain the fact that Flashjacks only offers 33 minutes of that utterly necessary serenity. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. Just let it be okay. You’re alright.
