Quarterly Review: Miss Lava, The Cimmerian, Nightstalker, Whitehovse, Hashishian, Scott Hepple and the Sun Band, Blind Mess, Vordermann, Aerolith, Occult Stereo
Posted in Reviews on June 30th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I’ve been waiting for this one, honestly. I think I did a Quarterly Review in April, or maybe it was late March, so it hasn’t been that long, but you know how it is with releases now. Every week there’s a ton coming out, everybody’s gotta pump through content to feed the algorithm. If you like sitting with records, if you like getting to know records, it’s still a pretty good era, but you have to understand you’re not going to hear everything. The Quarterly Review is more than a catchall in my mind, but it’s definitely also a place for stuff I can’t fit anywhere else. At this point there are bands who’ve been in QRs their entire lifecycle. I don’t think anybody knows that or cares other than me, but it’s true just the same.
I like doing these, though, and I like the marathon listening sessions that are part of it. Oh yeah asshole, you like writing about music? Well here’s 10 records a day for a week. Hope you slated a single in there somewhere. You’re gonna need it.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
Miss Lava, Under a Black Sun
This fifth full-length from Portuguese psychedelic-inflected heavy rockers Miss Lava sets its own backdrop with breadth of tone. The album is called Under a Black Sun and it is their fourth outing for Small Stone Records, but even the edgiest moments throughout are more colorful than that might indicate. Miss Lava excel — whether it’s the closing title-track or “Neon Gods” earlier or the 1:15 blowout “Chaos Strain” — at creating instrumental tension underneath the forward melodic float of the vocals. From seven-minute opener and longest cut (immediate points) “Dark Tomb Nebula,” the 52-minute/11-song outing takes its time saying what it wants to say, and it might take a couple listens for it to sink in accordingly, but the fuzz in “The Bends” and the tempo-pickup swing in “Blue Sky on Mars” can be landmarks on the path, and the album is worth meeting with the attention it’s due.
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The Cimmerian, An Age Undreamed Of…
To coincide with the righteous pummel of the eight-and-a-half-minute “Silver and Gold,” Los Angeles trio The Cimmerian infuse their first full-length with a thrashing sensibility in pieces like “Neckbreaker of the Mountain” and “Black Coast Tigris,” which are all the more brutal for the guttural vocals of bassist Nicolas Rocha. Guitarist David Gein crushes and slashes enough for “Mournblade” to earn its title, and the extremity is retained even in the slowdown of “Deathstalker” later on, as Gein, Rocha and drummer David Morales seem to hold another level of viciousness in reserve for 10-minute finale “Monarch.” There’s some extrapolation from High on Fire here in the basic math of the band’s makeup, but The Cimmerian push more into thrash as a genre, and come across as more metal in their assault. There’s growing to do, and streamlining the songs may become part of that process, but as an awaited debut album, An Age Undreamed Of… heralds its own devastation and that to follow.
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Nightstalker, Return From the Point of No Return
Athenian heavy rock institution Nightstalker return with their eighth full-length in a 35-plus-year career as led by frontman Argyris “Argy” Galiatsatos, who remains a pivotal presence in the songs. There are eight of those across the down-to-business 38-minute long-player, which opens raucous with “Dust” but settles into a psychedelic meander on “Heavy Trippin'” before “Uncut” finds a catchy space somewhere in the middle, high-energy but not a shove, and welcoming all comers. The title-track follows and takes a noisier tack instrumentally and vocally in its second half, but is a four-minute kick-in-the-pants nonetheless, so one would not accuse it of being an awkward fit here, even as the subsequent “Shipwrecked Powder Monkey” (which I’m assuming starts side B) moves through quiet/loud trades toward a fuzzy surge, “Shallow Grave” basks in melancholy, “Falling Inside” follows the bassline into a shredder of a guitar solo and seven-minute closer “Flying Mode” dares a bit of funk to round out. There’s a reason Nightstalker have stood the test of time. It’s the songs. Yes, still.
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Whitehovse, The Mighty One
Indonesian doom rollers Whitehovse released the title-track of their first, self-released full-length, The Mighty One, as a standalone single in 2020, and I don’t know that all the songs have been around that long, but every chug in “Falling Crown” sounds like it’s there for a reason and I’m not inclined to argue. Bookended by the nod of “Endless Sorrow” and the blowout, harsh-in-the-cymbals bounce of “Vile Triumphant,” the in-betweens on the eight-track/35-minute LP are light on nonsense and heavy on just about everything else as “Falling Crown” is indicative of the five-piece’s riffy foundations. They declare themselves Sabbathian early, but “Silence of the Soul” has more of a desert bounce transposed onto their own echoing palette and against the wall reminds a bit of the slower moments in whatever kind of metal it is Solace play. Their story isn’t fully written yet, but they put key aspects in place with this material.
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Hashishian, Sand Dragon
I don’t mean this to be an insult, but if you told me Hashishian‘s Sand Dragon was AI, I’d probably believe you. The band, from parts unknown, comprised of anonymous huffer pilgrims, are so steeped in the worship of Sleep, weed, riffs, and such, that the throatsinging vocals are a fit. Sand Dragon is meditative in its way, but it’s more stoned, and that’s the whole idea. What do you do with something that is pure worship? There is an original edge to their approach, though “Sand Dragon” itself is pretty dead-on Om, but if you’re a genre head, you know to which land “Follow the Riff” is going before its meganodder of a riff even departs. But I don’t think you take on Sand Dragon if you’re looking for originality-on-purpose. I think you take it on if you want to join them in their worship, and yeah, if you know what you’re getting going in, the naked, sans-pretense-otherwise homage happening throughout, the riff of “Meggido” just might make you a convert. Hail Cisneros.
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Scott Hepple and the Sun Band, English Mustard
Is garage rock inherently retro? Is there a way for a sound that was ‘mod’ when mod was mod to be the sound of the great forgetful now? I don’t know, but the UK’s Scott Hepple and the Sun Band take classic elements from garage, grunge, and heavier rock, and it’s hard to argue with the results of their formula in pieces like “Velvet Divorce” or the sweet acoustic strum of “Blue Door Jimmy,” the boogie of “Lead on Sonny Brown” and “Sweet Sugar High” and the more brash fuzz of “Fake a Smile,” as the 16-song long-player packs its 41-minute stretch tight enough that even the gag interlude “A Brief Advertisement” doesn’t come through as any more in a hurry than the rest of the proceedings. And they are in a hurry. Because they’re young and such is the way of young people. But that’s how it should be, and so, so are Scott Hepple and the Sun Band as they prove you can have ‘brash’ as a defining personality feature without needing to make yourself sound like a monster.
Scott Hepple and the Sun Band on Bandcamp
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Blind Mess, The Storm Within
Immediacy is the order of the moment on Blind Mess‘ six-song The Storm Within EP, as the hit-hard trio from Munich delve into burl on “The Bell” before the throw-elbows punkthrash of “On the Edge” and the angular “Mirror of My Soul” feels all the more leveled out for the shouts that top it. They’re not without atmosphere, even before the standalone guitar introduces the first 30 seconds of “The Hemlock Cup,” but the idea is for the songs to hit you direct and they do. “The Hemlock Cup” has a burner of a solo later on, and “Sick Society” has its foundation in rock but still sounds like it listened to Megadeth in the 1990s (who among us.) before the shorter closer “Bleeding Hearts” renews the shove of “On the Edge.” It’s a quick 24 minutes and they make it feel quicker with pacing, but it’s still well enough time for the band to showcase a refined attack.
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Vordermann, Feeding on Flowers/
Striking a progressive first impression around material still geared for an impact despite all the turns, UK five-piece Vordermann bring elements of alternative rock into the hooks of “Delirium Tremors,” one of the three songs included on their debut EP, the intentionally-slashed Feeding on Flowers/. Intertwining vocals in a quiet stretch, weirdo shifts, post-rock drift and weighted drums beneath, melodies providing the payoff where opener “Cloudpiercer” is more about the heft, and the seven-minute “Saint Banger (The Lars Ulrich Torrent Finder General Drum Circle Experience)” moving through a long, soft-guitar intro — there’s no drum circle; there are samples — before a heavier nod arrives, ebbing and flowing until the shouted vocals arrive late to put it over the top. Look out for these guys. They give a killer showing here and in no way sound like this is the limit for where they want to take their sound. One hopes for more to come. Maybe we can find out what’s on the other side of that slash in the title.
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Aerolith, II
When Austrian cosmic-rocking instrumentalists — space rock, some My Sleeping Karma-esque keys, almost certainly jam-based, but with fluidity as a compositional priority either way — Aerolith sent their second album, II, in for review, I’ll admit that I didn’t know it came out late in 2017. Going on eight years ago. If you’re wondering, I think that’s the oldest release ever to feature in a Quarterly Review — the band’s latest work, Megalorama Part II, was released in 2023 — which I try to keep at least vaguely current. I don’t know why the 2017 record was sent, but they make it easy to dig the conversation happening between the keys and guitar throughout, and the mellow-heavy mindset of “Rain Walk” and “Aufschub,” that payoff in closer “Bug Nebula,” seems to still inform their sound on the newer offerings as well. I’m not about to start retconning the entire history of the underground in a Quarterly Review, so don’t send me all your old records, but I’m glad to have had the introduction to this band regardless.
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Occult Stereo, A Temporary Utopia
Experimentalism is crucial on this apparently-years-in-the-making second full-length from Athens-based mostly-solo outfit Occult Stereo, driven by self-recording multi-instrumentalist/vocalist/programmer Alex Eliopoulos, who blends electronic and organic instrumentation — the bedroom industrial of “In Between Lines” and “Kiss My Mask,” the acoustics of “A Glow” and “Power,” the variable drones of the otherwise anthemic “New Drip” and “Burn the Manifesto,” the fuzz ultranod of “Same Life Different Face” and the avant-garage “Not Mysterious”; it is a record that sets its own context and goes — to a readily divergent affect, melding styles across genres with expressive weirdness. At 11 songs and 64 minutes, it is a not insignificant undertaking, and surely A Temporary Utopia is not without its challenging aspects, but Eliopoulos isn’t on his own here — there are even guest vocals on “Power” — and as deep as Occult Stereo plunge, the spaces occupied are individual and fascinating.
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