No one knows how life started on earth. Comets carrying proteins smashing into warm-enough molecular carbon? Something about the tides? It’s pick-your-theory; only the finest of exact sciences. I personally believe that the organic stuff of all life on earth started in a great cosmic mudbubble slowly building over billions of years. Impossibly proportioned and existing in multiple dimensions, it grows with pressure from various gravitational pulls around it — nebulae, the odd far-off supercluster, on and on — and gurgles upward, churning and roiling slowly as though heated by a cauldron no one can see. This spans lightyears and is slower than trees. It sounds like Sons of Otis.

Based in Toronto, comprised now of guitarist/vocalist Ken Baluke, bassist Frank Sargeant and drummer Ryan Aubin, the stoner-doom trio to end all stoner-doom trios — and yes, I’m counting Sleep — oozed forth with Temple Ball in 1999. They began in 1992 and had already unleashed their debut album, Spacejumbofudge (review here), in 1996. A prime example of CD-era format priority, the sophomore outing runs 10 songs and 62 minutes, and it brought the band into the arms of Man’s Ruin Records, which is where they belonged — apart from the home they seem to have found now on Totem Cat, it seems like maybe Man’s Ruin is the only place they’ve ever really belonged — and was helmed by the late Frank Kozik, who passed away this Spring and of whom Sons of Otis said, “The ONLY label that ever paid us.” Fair enough.

Like a half-speed Monster Magnet circa Dopes to Infinity, Sons of Otis begin Temple Ball with “Mile High,” “Nothing” and “Vitus,” a three-song salvo ooze-fest, marked by Baluke‘s ultra-dense fuzz, Sargeant‘s accompanying low end, and the far-back drums of Emilio Mammone (or a drum machine? either way, he is now of Low Orbit; he left the band in 2001 and was replaced by Aubin). Wah-driven psych, echo drenching the throaty vocals, which are delivered with a sludgy addled shout. They might be bluesy in another context but Baluke‘s voice isn’t amelodic, as “Mile High” shows as it pushes and pulls through its five minutes, not actually all that slow but so thick it can’t help but sound that way anyhow. This will be the spirit of much of Temple Ball to come, and it’s quickly reaffirmed by the oh-here-it-is-we-found-it kick and low-end buzz and emergent noise of “Nothing.”

They are the epitome of aural dank, and the standard by which that particular genre tenet should be measured: “It’s dank, but does it sound as covered in little purple or orange hairs as Sons of Otis?” Probably not. “Vitus” is the stuff of legend, if perhaps only in my mind, and is the first of two included covers, bringing twisting psychedelic undulations to Saint Vitus‘ signature Wino-era piece “Born Too Late” as one of the few acts who could make it sound even more disaffected. From there, the record slams into a 10-minute wall somewhat ironically called “Windows Jam,” which is what it says as Sons of Otis sway over a languid tempo, Baluke‘s guitar tossing out references in a later solo. He shouts out “Super Typhoon” like they’re playing a show and Mammone is on the ride before switching to the crash, the groove seeming to get lost in its midsection before ending up in a final, almost improv-sounding verse.

“Down” leads off the shorter second half of the tracklisting — it’s also the start of LP2 on the 2012 Bilocation Records double-vinyl reissue — and is more solidified but meets that with blowout vocals and supreme lumbernod. I’ve listened to this record I don’t know how many times in the last 20 or so years and I still don’t have a clue what Baluke is saying, but it matters less when they land in the cover of Mountain‘s “Mississippi Queen,” which is only two and a half minutes long but that’s enough to ground the listener as “Vitus” does earlier, and gives Sons of Otis a landmark as they dig further into the end portion of the record, which goes even deeper into the far-out, with “New Mole” barely seeming to start in its nine-minute stone-drone sub-march, so clearly working in its own dimension of time, fading out into the Cheech & Chong sample that leads to the thudding, humming, gruff start of the penultimate “Steamroller.”

Arriving ahead of the sure-we’ve-got-room-for-one-more-nine-minute-jam finale “Diesel,” “Steamroller” uses tension in a different way than a lot of Temple Ball, with a particularly agonizing thud of drums behind its thickest-fuzz verse before it opens to the next part. Between “New Mole” and “Diesel,” it feels positively straightforward, but isn’t out of place among the similarly addled “Down” or even “Nothing” earlier on. And the ‘side B’ — it’s actually sides C and D — range expansion is an analog for the band’s affinity for the ’70s rock from which the trope comes, realized in the howls and hairy fuzz that roll, mellow and scorch through “Diesel” to end the record. You can almost smell the fumes, though more likely that’s a tube in one of Baluke‘s amps melting. They finish sure of their purpose and loose-grooving, but otherwise without ceremony, and that works. Somehow a big finish would be out of place on an album that’s so checked out from norms. Over-the-top in the wrong kind of way. Still, the jam pays it off before they’re done.

Sons of Otis have seven full-lengths in their catalog, the latest of which is 2020’s Isolation (review here), and much of what’s become their aesthetic in the years since is present in Temple Ball, which is less aggressive than the debut but still able to be mean when it wants. They’ve refined their processes, grown in their sound, all that shit bands hopefully do given time and at least a minimum of support, but Sons of Otis are and have long been singular in style — cavernous, crushing, bubbling, drifting in space, dug into the earth — and Temple Ball is likewise unto itself.

As always, I hope you enjoy. I’ve been waiting for this to stream somewhere for a long-ass time. Thanks for reading.

—

Well, The Pecan punched a kid in the face at camp yesterday — fighting about something or other, frustrated because of whatever it doesn’t really matter — and we were asked not to bring her back today. There’s one day left in camp. One fucking day, and we didn’t make it. We were so close.

I had been saying in the car how great she had done to get through it, because last year it didn’t work at all, how proud I was, how we should do something special to mark the end of two weeks of camp, her first real full-day-out-of-the-house experience, playing in the creek, swimming in the lake (except earlier this week after we got a bunch of rain, which is what ruined the whole thing), and doing crafts. Last week she even did swim lessons. It was great. Don’t come back.

It wasn’t out of the blue, and the camp handled it well. Last week we got one “hey do you have a minute?” from the camp director about her losing it and so on. She bit a counselor at one point. And on Wednesday there was some issue or other and we picked her up early. But we were just trying to get through, trying to get the win, and we didn’t.

That took the wind out of the sails of what had otherwise been an okay few days. I worry about this kid. I see her, I see her around other kids, I see how she is as opposed to how they are,  and I don’t really understand what’s going on. We’ve been to the doctors, we did early intervention when she turned two. She’s had years of OT, drilled through ways to calm her body when she’s upset — every take-a-breath, count-slowly, take-a-break, zones-of-regulation, etc. — and while I know these are things that need to be practiced and not at all cure-alls for any kind of emotional disregulation, she just gets overwhelmed and goes right to hitting now. It’s worse than it was before insurance kicked us out of OT.

So that is disheartening. Next week is zoo camp at the Turtle Back Zoo. It’s a half-day thing, and new, which is always good. Novelty, ever a plus. I hope she makes it through.

She’s up now, in ‘loafing’ with The Patient Mrs., which means playing some learning game or other on the iPad. I’ll grab yogurt in a bit for her, then go to the gym to swim. The Patient Mrs.’ sister and The Pecan’s cousins are coming down for the better part of the weekend from Connecticut, so I’m hopeful for some reorientation as a result. It’s raining today. Bath day. And I expect we’ll do a decent amount of reading to make up for what we didn’t do while she was at camp this week.

I don’t know. I worry. The Patient Mrs. thinks I’m ridiculous. Fair. We’re going to do a parenting class together in what’s called the ‘nurtured heart approach.’ I want to improve my relationship with The Pecan because all we ever fucking do is argue. I say a thing, she either ignores me, does what she wants anyway, or gets mad and hits. I take her to her room, tell her to take a break, and everybody gets a little sadder. We go about our business. Some other thing, inevitably, soon after. I try to stop myself from talking, because I’m trying to help but it just comes out shitty and sarcastic, and sometimes I physically remove myself from the room. And I get overwhelmed too. And I make it about me. Turns out I’m a terrible fucking person and a worse parent. What fun things to re-confirm on the march into middle age. Who knew I could disappoint on so many levels!

But yeah, one hopes next week is better, and even having hope is a good sign.

Great and safe weekend. Have fun, watch your head, hydrate, try not to punch anyone in the fucking face, all that stuff. I’m gonna go swim for a while.

[EDIT: No, I’m not, as neither of my bathing suits is clean. Guess I’ll do laundry instead. Maybe make another pot of coffee.]

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

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Some of the best heavy rock records of all time were released through Man’s Ruin Records. We’re talking about pivotal, genre-defining releases that continue to resonate some 20-plus years later, which in rock and roll time is an eternity. Some bands are still active and contributing, and some have left it behind, but in light of the sudden passing last week of artist and label-founder Frank Kozik, it felt right to take a look at that portion of his life he spent fostering bands and some of the impact that music has had on, at this point, two subsequent generations of heavy.

I’ve told this story before, but maybe in 2004, I was at SXSW in Austin, Texas, meandering off 6th St. in order to find a show happening in a record store. Went under the highway bridge and all that to get to Snake Eyes Vinyl. I don’t think it’s there anymore, but at the time they were hosting bands as part of the whole SXSW thing. They moved bins and so on to make room for amps, or had artists play outside; I sat on a hill and saw Kylesa on the back of a trailer on a sunny afternoon; Drunk Horse and Saviours shared the ‘stage’ inside, etc.

The narrative in my head is that I was waiting for either Drunk Horse or Saviours — I honestly don’t remember — to go on, did some shopping in the interim, and stumbled on a motherlode of Man’s Ruin CDs. Some I had, many I didn’t, but with the label defunct two years prior, the stuff was already becoming rare and, on eBay, not cheap. I grabbed a stack that was no fewer than 10 discs — including Drunk Horse — and made my way to the counter to pay, only to find out that they belonged to Becca, the woman who ran the store. She was visibly sad to be parting with them.

I said that it was okay, I would give them a good home and take care of them. And I did. I still have them the better part of two decades later. It tells you the kind of connections that listeners made to the music that Kozik put out that, even when she had decided to sell them in her shop, it was hard to let go of those albums. Kozik’s work with Man’s Ruin was special, and the heavy underground has worked on a label-as-hub model since, whether it’s imprints like Small Stone, Ripple Music, Heavy Psych Sounds, and so on. Not only is Kozik’s output through Man’s Ruin still relevant aurally and visually, but it continues to shape the structure of heavy rock’s promotional and distribution apparatus. One does not generally think of a small business as influential.

Yet here we are. Some of the below was hoisted from social media, and some folks I hit up direct or through PR, but through it all, the spirit of thankfulness is palpable, and I’ll add my thanks to that, because there’s no way I’d be sitting here writing this sentence right now if not for Frank Kozik and Man’s Ruin Records. Heavy music owes him a debt it can never repay.

Thanks to all who took part in this, and thanks as always for reading.

Lori S. from Acid King:

Wow (#128558#)(#128546#). Um…. Don’t know what to say . Man’s Ruin and Frank were a huge part of my life and always will be . Thank you for releasing our records creating a scene that didn’t exist and for the endless amount of cool artwork that will be on planet earth way longer than all of us R.I.P.

Sometime like, 94-96 I went to visit my friend, Tim Moss in San Francisco. While running around we stopped at Man’s Ruin where he introduced me to Frank Kozik and Frank being the nice guy that he is, let me grab a bunch of posters. I was freaking out. His label opened my ears to so many bands who later would become family. His art has always been a part of my life. Below is one of the prints he let me take and it was the very first piece of art we hung at Jackalope. Oh shit and then that amazing Man’s Ruin fest at the Troubadour w/ Scott Carlson, Lori Joseph, Rich Hay, Scott Reeder and lord can only remember who else (#128514#). Thanks for everything, Frank. Rest easy.

Fatso Jetson:

Our music and art scene has lost a true godfather, Frank Kozik believed in the unique music from our desert and was responsible for some of the most influential recordings, all were released on his Man’s Ruin label. From Kyuss to Queens of the Stone Age, Brant Bjork, the Jack Saints, Desert Sessions….the list goes on and on. We are so grateful and honored to be part of his history. Thank you Frank …Fatso sends love to you and your family brother. God Speed.

Brant Bjork (Kyuss, Ché, Fu Manchu, solo):

I was having dinner with Frank Kozik one night in SF and he asked me if it was true that I was going to record a solo record. I said yes. He said he wanted to put it out. The result was Jalamanta. That was in 1999 and it was my first solo release. I had no idea then I’d still be releasing solo records 24 years later. Thank you Frank for believing in me and all the other artists and bands you believed in. It takes one to know one. Frank was, still is and will always be… a true artist. ❤️BB

Eddie Glass of Nebula:

Frank was such a cool dude and played a legendary part in the scene when it was coming up. It was so cool being on his label because he would design the covers and the Sun Creature EP came out perfectly. He will be dearly missed.

Amanda Topaz from Begotten:

Frank Kozik was a friend at a time in my life when it was really hard to be my friend. His unexpected death makes me incredibly sad an my thoughts are with his wife Sharon. Although I Haven’t seen him in twenty years I am so grateful for his generosity. I don’t think cats now realize the extent of what he gave us because now the Spotify AI Algorithm picks out what you listen to every day, AI makes your music videos for you, for all I know AI is generating your riffs for you too. But back then in New York, finishing up music school where I was lucky enough to have one of Coltrane’s bass players as a teacher – and he would tell us – We can teach you how to play the music but you have to understand that it’s the soul of our generation – we created it in the streets and in the clubs -. Imagine then as a lost child hearing THE MELVINS for the first time – this sound from the Bay Area all the way across the country – for the first time at 1 in the morning from some cd bought in an underground record shop in a back alley with a group of friends. Or the desert sessions. Or Acid King / Kyuss / Nebula/ High on Fire. It was life-changing. This was the sound of OUR generation. Kozik handed it to us on a Man’s Ruin platter. Didn’t make a dime off it – he supported the company with poster and art sales as far as I know. And he was nice enough to give our big ugly maroon 89 Chevy van the name, “La Guappa”.

Lou Gorra of Solarized (also Halfway to Gone):

Frank was a brilliant artist. We all know that. I was so incredibly humbled when one of my favorite artists of all time signed my dopey little band to one of the coolest labels of the twentieth century. My time making records for Man’s Ruin was short lived, but the memories I made during that time will remain with me for the rest of life. I’m so incredibly sad that there will be no more new Kozik art for the world to love, but I’m tearfully grateful that my music can be referenced in his monolithic legacy, even in the most minuscule way. Thank you Frank. RIP

Darryl Shepard (ex-Roadsaw, currently Kind, etc.):

Sergio Ch. of Los Natas (currently Ararat, Soldati, solo, etc.):

Frank gave me the opportunity of my life. He believed in my work and shared it to the world. Got me into the big leagues just trusting some guys from Argentina and their love for music. I wouldn´t be standing where I am right now if not for is help, art and determination. I remember after recording album Ciudad de Brahman, back in San Francisco 1999, we piled into his truck and took a ride, just pumping the album’s mix cassette tape into the car’s player. He looked at me right into my eyes in a stop light and told me, almost breaking in tears, “Sergio, your music has spirit. Never give up. I am old and tired but you must keep doing what you do.” A few [years] later, Man’s Ruin Records announced their closeup and I got a huge UPS box right at my home in Argentina, including the one inch tapes from Natas’ Ciudad de Brahman album. along with a release rights letter from Frank. What a gentleman. Will miss you Boss, thanks and love foreva.

Erik Larson of Alabama Thunderpussy:

I didn’t know Frank Kozik as well as I would have liked to, but the fact that I knew him at all is nothing short of fantastic. When we met, I was just some Metal-Punk from Virginia, and yet the man showed me and Alabama Thunderpussy nothing but encouragement throughout the years we had a working relationship. I could always count on a no bullshit opinion from him. Frank didn’t seem to tolerate bullshit. His whole approach to Man’s Ruin Records seemed to be a testament to that viewpoint, and a ‘pay attention to what’s important right now’ attitude that kept things exciting, challenging and precarious all at once. I think it is safe to say Alabama Thunderpussy would never have achieved as much as we have, had it not been for that first opportunity Frank Kozik gave to us. I’m forever grateful to him for that.

Jim Hogan of Solarized (currently Defiance Engine):

When Frank Kozik ran Man’s Ruin Records, he helped our band, Solarized, more than any other label we ever dealt with. He offered a 50% profit split, made us store posters, and he made custom screened posters for when we toured. Eventually the label folded, but he helped hundreds of bands, and he and his crew released a whole lot of great albums. His poster art, his custom vinyl toys, and his record label were nothing short of amazing. He was the only guy we ever knew who got interviewed by Newsweek. He was an outstanding human being and he is truly a brother lost.

Reg Hogan of Solarized (currently Defiance Engine):

We send our heart felt condolences to Frank’s family and friends…Frank did more to elevate scene awareness, with his passion and love for the music, than most of the music industry. We are grateful he took a shine to our brand of Jersey swamp rock.

Arthur Seay of Unida:

Was an honor to have Frank release our Unida record ‘Coping with the Urban Coyote’, which really put us on the map and allowed us to tour Europe and caught the attention of the majors lol. He was a true artist, gifted, talented and crazy as fuck.

Jason Casanova of Tummler (currently Sasquatch):

Frank was the man. Not only for his art, but his vision for Man’s Ruin and the music scene that it created. I can’t thank him enough for giving my old band Tummler a shot at putting out a record back in the heyday. The smoking bunny will live on forever. RIP dude. You rule. – C

Johan Rockner of Dozer:

RIP Frank Kozik ❤️

He signed us back in ’98 and released our two first albums In the Tail of a Comet and Madre De Dios. He was one of those who believed in us, which we are forever thankful for. Without him Dozer would not be were we are. We met him in Stockholm at his exhibition “the Stockholm job”, a really cool and down to earth kind of guy.

Ben Ward of Orange Goblin:

Sad news this morning that the legendary artist Frank Kozik has passed away. Frank did some great artwork for Orange Goblin over the years and his label, Man’s Ruin Records, was responsible for some of the coolest releases in various genres from the mid to late ’90s. His artwork lives on forever and Frank will be remembered as a kind, funny, intelligent and humble man with a very unique style and he will be missed. Condolences to his family and friends. Thank you Frank, RIP.

Sons of Otis:

RIP Frank Kozik(#128128#) Mad visionary. The ONLY label that ever paid us.

Frank Kozik was a pioneer of heavy rock without needing to pick up a guitar. Born in 1962, he became a poster artist, graphic designer, toy designer, and as the head of Man’s Ruin Records between 1994-2002, he spearheaded the heavy rock revival of the post-Kyuss 1990s, releasing pivotal works from bands like Acid King, Goatsnake, (Los) Natas, Brant Bjork, The Hellacopters, Alabama Thunderpussy, the Melvins, Fu Manchu, Dozer, Unida, Nebula, Solarized, Fatso Jetson, High on Fire, Sons of Otis, Suplecs, Tummler, Begotten, Altamont, on and on.

His contributions to underground music’s visual aesthetic have been an influence the work of artists and musicians alike, and they will continue to be. It is arguable the revival of vinyl would not be what it is without his breaking that stylistic ground 25 years ago, and inarguable that Man’s Ruin helped shape modern heavy rock in the US, overseeing a generational shift that brought ‘stoner rock’ closer to the mainstream than it has ever been since.

Kozik’s page on Facebook posted an update, saying:

We are devastated to inform you that Frank Kozik passed away unexpectedly this past Saturday.

Frank was a man larger than himself, an icon in each of the genres he worked in. He dramatically changed every industry he was a part of. He was a creative force of nature. We are so beyond lucky and honored to have been part of his journey, and he will be missed beyond what words could ever express.

He loved his wife, his cats, classic muscle cars, mentoring others, and Disneyland. His forceful presence will be missed by all who knew him. His legacy, like all great masters, will live on through his art and our memories of him.

More info on a memorial service will come soon.

For now, we ask you to please respect our privacy during this trying time.

With love,
Sharon and the Cats

On behalf of myself and this site, heartfelt condolences to Kozik’s family and friends, and deep appreciation for what Kozik did for pop art in general but for underground heavy especially. I didn’t know him personally — hit him up once to do an interview about the label, wish he had said yes — but I count myself fortunate to own records he put out and posters he drew or designed and his work has enriched my life. I don’t think I’m alone in that. He’s someone whose loss will be powerfully felt. He was 61 years old.

Frank Kozik on Facebook

Frank Kozik on Instagram

Frank Kozik website

July 21 has been set as the release date for the Black Farm Records vinyl remaster of the 2001 self-titled debut from New York’s Begotten. The Brooklyn-and-now-not-just-Brooklyn-based trio have been active again for a few years now — their 2018 Demo EP (review here) offered crunch-riff delights beyond proof of life, and they followed with an EP last year — and Begotten has been waiting for its LP issue for at least the last 12 months, as the label announced intentions toward having it out in July 2021. That is a significant delay and nothing if not emblematic of the times.

Perhaps all the more appropriate, then, that the band should have a new video up for “Judges” from the record, which takes a classically-metallic harsh view of current realities: climate change, wildfires, the planet dying under our feet and largely by our own collective hand. From its initial Sabbathian lurch to the more shuffling finish, it’s a representation of the doom-for-doomers mentality of the group, and it’s hard to ignore either the relevance of the lyrics more than two decades later — yup, shit still sucks, maybe even more, considering Begotten‘s original July 2001 release puts it before the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on New York and the 20 years of war, fire, flood, plague and political decay that have followed — or the fact that if you sat “Judges” alongside much of the current heavy underground sphere, which they’re basically doing with the vinyl reissue, it fits. Primitive times call for primitive riffs. Begotten wield theirs with due judgment.

Near as I can tell, the Roger Lian remaster of the album featured here is the one the band previously had streaming on their Bandcamp (player at the bottom of this post; if I’m wrong on that I’ll correct as need be), but in any case, doom is doom and this is doom, so doom on, doomers. Oh, did I mention Begotten were a sludge band? Ha.

I’m not generally one for issuing direct challenges to bands and I won’t here either, but I’d love to hear what Begotten could come up with for a brand new full-length.

Enjoy “Judges” and consider the possibilities. Further word on the reissue follows, courtesy of Black Farm:

Begotten, “Judges” official video

Greetings from the Farm!

Remember when we announced the reissue of Begotten’s debut album in July?

Well, the test pressing has been play tested and approved!

The whole reissue process has taken a little more time than expected, but everything is turning up super nicely.

Roger Lian (Slayer, Pantera, …) handled the vinyl remaster and rearranged track order to suit the vinyl specifications, and it sounds that huge!

Scott “Wino” Weinrich has been kind enough to pen a few words in the liner notes for this 20th anniversary reissue, and the very first time on vinyl!

Begotten’s debut is the last ever release Man’s Ruin records put out in 2000, and it’s such an honour to finally give this piece of history the vinyl treatment it has deserved for 20+ years.

No doubt you will love this new presentation of Begotten’s Doom landmark.

More news to come as soon as we can confirm exact release date.

Stay safe, drop Doom!

Begotten, EP (2021)

Begotten, Begotten (2018 Remaster)

Begotten on Facebook

Begotten on Instagram

Begotten on Bandcamp

Black Farm Records store

Black Farm Records on Instagram

Black Farm Records on Facebook

As the PR wire notes right off the bat, today’s the 20th anniversary of Begotten‘s self-titled debut, which has the distinction of having been the final release through Frank Kozik‘s now-legendary, genre-defining Man’s Ruin Records imprint. July 21, 2001. Guess what? The whole world was about to go to shit. Still on its way down. The fucking ocean caught fire last month. People barely blinked.

So anyway, cool for the New York sludgecrunchers that they’ve linked arms with Black Farm Records to give the album a proper vinyl reissue. I’ve no doubt it’ll be rad. What I’m a little hurt by, though, is that Begotten put out a new two-songer in March and no one even told me. You mean you’ve got 17 minutes of new heavy nod and I’m just sitting around typing away writing about 110 releases that aren’t that over the last couple weeks? Hardly seems fair. Last I heard from them was their 2018 demo (review here). Clearly I need to get caught up.

So yeah, right on with the reissue, but I’m gonna dig into the new stuff too. Both, as it happens, are streaming at the bottom of this post:

BEGOTTEN was Man’s Ruin last release 20 years ago today

Begotten celebrate the 20th Anniversary of their Man’s Ruin debut and announce the limited edition vinyl of the album on Black Farm Records.

Notoriously BEGOTTEN became the last band to release a record on legendary stoner/doom label Man’s Ruin two decades ago today. Now Black Farm Records announces the 20th Anniversary Limited Edition Vinyl of the band’s self-titled release. The label, based in northern France, specializes in high quality collectible vinyl releases.

New York City in the late nineties was all about hardcore, punk and fast rock. Playing doom and stoner rock was an act of rebellion. The original self-titled Begotten album was recorded analog reel to reel and came out with Man’s Ruin’s dying breath. This was shortly before the World Trade Center went crashing down – which among all the other horrors also brought Begotten and many other NYC bands to a crashing halt. The demise of Man’s Ruin Records was as harsh a blow to the music scene, as the fall of the towers were to the City.

Two decades later, the 20th anniversary limited edition vinyl emerges just as a global plague begins to dissipate in the U.S. The meaning behind songs like “Electric Hell,” “Judges,” “Garabed’s Freedom,” resonates perhaps more than ever now. What can be heard on the album is the music of three people who have remained loyal to each other, loyal to the spirit of the music, and loyal to themselves. The album has been remastered for vinyl by Roger Lian (of Slayer fame) – the same guy who mastered it the first time for CD from the reel to reel mixes.

Begotten is Matthew Anselmo on Guitar, vox, (and synth on “Narkotizer”); Rob Sefcik on drums; Amanda Topaz on bass, vox (and bullwhip on “Garabed’s Freedom”).

begotten001.bandcamp.com
instagram.com/begottendoom
facebook.com/BegottenDoom
blackfarmrecords.bigcartel.com
instagram.com/blackfarmrecords
facebook.com/blackfarmrec

Begotten, EP (2021)

Begotten, Begotten (2018 Remaster)

Dozer‘s second album, Madre de Dios, will see reissue this Friday on Heavy Psych Sounds, and if the arrival just a week after In the Tail of a Comet (streamed/discussed here) feels quick, consider that in reality the sophomore LP came out just a year after the debut — so it was quick then as well. Born in 2001, Madre de Dios was pressed to vinyl through the band’s own Molten Universe imprint and to CD through Man’s Ruin Records, with different artwork for each, and despite the speedy turnaround from its predecessor, already one could hear growth in the sound of the Borlänge, Sweden, four-piece, who were beginning to take the desert rock style that had typified the first album and their earlier demos and splits and reshape it to their aesthetic will, consciously or not, through the seemingly simple act of honest songwriting.

With the returning lineup of guitarist Tommi Holappa, guitarist/vocalist Fredrik Nordin, bassist Johan Rockner and drummer Erik Bäckwall, songs like “Freeloader,” “Octanoid,” “Soulshigh,” the spacey “TX-9” and indeed, opener “Let the Shit Roll” — about which Holappa shares a good story below — showcased a fast progression on the part of the band, who were beginning to reach for a faster, sometimes more aggressive, sound that, ultimately, was more their own. In hindsight, it’s easy to look at Madre de Dios as a turning point from who Dozer were in their nascent days to who they’d become as they began to mature as a group, but the same could be said more or less of every album up to the last, since once it got underway, their progression never really stopped bringing their sound to new and exciting places in terms of craft.

But in 2001, fuzz was still king in Dozer‘s sound, and Madre de Dios‘ 10-track/39-minute run is as righteous a conglomeration of hairy riffs as one could ever hope to encounter. Propelled by the gallop in Bäckwall‘s snare and the emergence of Nordin as a frontman, from the moment the shit starts to roll, right down to the aptly-titled closer “Thunderbolt” — which even in its reissue form keeps the stretch of effects noise at the end — the record is sharp in its execution and still somehow laid back in its groove, as though Dozer were pushing that defining line of heavy rock and roll as far as it could go, testing those boundaries while actively working to find their place in (and/or out) of them. As a band, at this point they were on the road, and as part of the post-Kyuss movement of “stoner rock,” Dozer were helping to shape what we know today as the heavy underground. Their influence and their songs continue to resonate.

By which I mean Madre de Dios still kicks ass. Hear for yourself above. Holappa talks about it below.

Please enjoy:

Madre de Dios Q&A with Tommi Holappa

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Tell me about being in the studio for Madre de Dios. What do you remember your attitude was coming off of the first record, and was there anything in particular you wanted to do differently with the second one?

After the first album was released we wanted more, bigger and better! Releasing albums and touring was fun! So we couldn’t wait to go back into the studio and record another album.

I´m pretty sure the attitude was that we just wanted to write the best songs we could and record an album that sounded fat as hell!

To be honest I can’t remember much of the recording session of this album, only some bits and pieces, it has nothing to do with drinking too much in the studio or anything it’s just that it’s so damn long ago hahaha! I remember that I got my Russian Big Muff and my Gibson SG just before this album so those two were used a lot.

The original CD and LP wound up with different covers. Was that a choice on the part of the band, or maybe Man’s Ruin? Do you feel that one or the other better represents the album?

The story is that Man’s Ruin didn’t want to release it on vinyl so we asked them if we could release it ourselves via Molten Universe. They were okay and we said cool, then we release it with different artwork and put a bonus track on it. I personally prefer the vinyl artwork and the song “Rings of Saturn” is on it, one of my favorite early tracks.

What was the reception like in Sweden specifically to the band at this point?

It was ok but nothing compared to Germany and some other central European countries. So most of the touring was done outside of Sweden where people actually showed up to see us hahaha!

How hard was Dozer touring at this point? What was the reception like to this material live? Are there any memories that stand out from the Madre de Dios era that you can share?

At this point we had started touring quiet a lot. Reception was good, outside of Sweden of course hahaha. “Let the Shit Roll” was a song that usually got the crowd going nuts and I have actually one pretty funny story about that song.

We were in Zurich/Switzerland and the DJ at the club started playing “Let the Shit Roll” just before we were about to go on stage, fuck! Why do they that song now!? What do we do? Should we just skip the song from the set or?! Fuck it let’s just play it!

Anyway we did our set and played “Let the Shit Roll” and I don’t think anyone cared that they heard it twice. We went off stage and the crowd was screaming for more so just when we were about to go on stage again to play the encores the promoter came up to us and asked if we can play “Let the Shit Roll.” We told him that we already played it and we will play a couple of other songs instead but he really kept going on and on about how much he wants to hear it, so he offered us one more case of beer if we would play it.

We went up on stage and of course we had to play it again! It’s free beer! And free beer is good beer! Hahaha! So we played “Let the Shit Roll” a second time and a couple of more tracks. When we were done we go off stage and guess what song the DJ starts playing? “LET THE SHIT ROLL!”

Anything else in particular you’d like to say about Madre de Dios?

I got the idea for the album title from an episode of The Simpsons.

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One could go on and on about how important or influential Dozer‘s early work and essential first album, In the Tail of a Comet (discussed here), has been over the 20 years since its release. The Borlänge, Sweden, four-piece — then comprised of guitarist Tommi Holappa, guitarist/vocalist Fredrik Nordin, bassist Johan Rockner and drummer Erik Bäckwall — had already amassed a decent catalog of short releases by the time the record came out through Man’s Ruin in April 2000, mostly splits with fellow Swedes Demon Cleaner, but also 1999’s Double EP split with Unida (discussed here) and the 1998 demo tape Universe 75 (discussed here), but it was the album that really solidified who Dozer were as a band and brought their yeah-we’re-from-Sweden-and-we-play-fuzzed-out-desert-rock-deal-with-it, all-go thrust and groove approach to its point of peak asskickery.

And that’s the thing about In the Tail of a Comet. Yeah, without it, an entire generation of Swedish heavy rock that followed in Dozer‘s wake probably sounds much different, but at its heart, the album just rocks. It’s a pretense-free collection of ultra-fuzz riffs and hard-hitting, unabashed stoner rock vibes. Coming just a few years after the dissolution of Kyuss and two years after the first Queens of the Stone Age, it was a part of the ascendant international heavy rock underground, a good deal of which was fostered through Frank Kozik‘s Man’s Ruin Records in bands like Acid King, Los Natas, Alabama Thunderpussy, Goatsnake, and so on.

Joining those ranks for their first release, Dozer unleashed a collection of songs that has only gotten better with time. In the prime of the CD era, when albums regularly stretched past bloated 50-minute runtimes, In the Tail of a Comet was a taut 37-minute LP with not a moment to spare, and its tracks were front-to-back high-grade heavy. Nordin‘s voice was unmistakable from the start, tossing off lyrics about getting high while flying through space or whatever the hell it was as he and Holappa led the charge with riffs on cuts like “Supersoul,” “Speeder,” “Inside the Falcon,” “Riding the Machine,” “Grand Dragon,” and “High Roller” — or, you know, the whole record, really — while Rockner and Bäckwall alternated between swing and thrust behind, utterly locked in for the duration and charged with an energy that would become yet another signature of Dozer‘s approach, carrying them through the sonic progression that In the Tail of a Comet helped to launch.

As the record turns 20 and receives a well-earned reissue out this week on Heavy Psych Sounds to be followed by 2001’s Madre de Dios and 2003’s Call it Conspiracy on March 20, Tommi Holappa takes a few moments to reflect on In the Tail of a Comet and what it was like to be in Dozer at the time. Much laughter ensues. The band still plays periodically, of course, but it’s been 12 years since their last LP, and these days, Holappa is much more likely to be found in Greenleaf, who have started writing a new album with plans to record this Fall. The following interview begins a series of three that will continue next week covering the next two albums in Dozer‘s catalog, all of which remains crucial.

Please enjoy:

In the Tail of a Comet Q&A with Tommi Holappa

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It’s been 25 years since Dozer started, and 20 years since the first album. What was it like being in Dozer during those early days? What do you remember about doing the splits with Demon Cleaner and how did you feel going into your first record?

What I remember the most from the beginning of Dozer is that it was very carefree and simple times. When we started the band we had just figured out that you can actually tune down your guitars to make them sound heavier and cooler and if you ad a fuzz pedal to that, then it would blow you away! So the songwriting was easy! Play a riff, add more fuzz to it… done! Maybe it wasn’t this easy but that’s how I remember it… hahaha!

The Demon Cleaner 7” splits were a lot of fun to do! After the first release it became kind of a friendly competition between us and Demon Cleaner, something like, “We have two songs ready for the next split, hope you have songs ready too because our songs will kick your ass!” hahaha!

We sold some demo tapes at the local records store here in Borlänge before this but the first split that came out in 1998 was our first official release.

After this came the Unida/Dozer split EP which was a huge thing for us as well, can you imagine to get asked to do a split John Garcia’s new band? Well we were blown away! Kyuss was the band that showed us that we can tune down our guitars.

So when we got signed to Man’s Ruin we felt like we were ready to release our first full-length album.

How did signing to Man’s Ruin Records come about? Tell me about that process.

When we felt it was time to start looking for a label to release our first full length Man´s Ruin was the only label we could think about. They had released stuff with all the coolest bands that we looked up to and we wanted to be one of those cool bands as well…hahaha! We never thought they would sign us but we sent a four or five track demo cassette (yes kids we are old hahaha) to them anyway. A couple of weeks later I checked my e-mail and there was a mail from Man’s Ruin and yeah the rest is history. One more funny thing about the whole thing is that we only sent out this one demo and we got signed, we didn’t send demos to any other labels.

What do you remember about being in the studio for In the Tail of a Comet? What was that experience like as compared to later Dozer records? How did you feel about it when it first came out and how do you feel about it now?

I don’t remember a lot from this specific recording, I remember it was recorded on tape, there were no computers around. The computer was invented just before we recorded Madre de Dios hahaha!

All the early stuff we recorded was recorded really fast and the more records we released the more time we put into songwriting and getting the right sounds, etc., etc. But I think In the Tail of a Comet still holds to this day! I´m proud of it!

What was the response like to In the Tail of a Comet at the time?

From what I remember the response was mostly good! Of course every once in a while people called us Kyuss clones or something, but fuck them, now we were on Man’s Ruin and we were one of the cool bands hahaha!

Anything else you’d like to add about In the Tail of a Comet in particular?

We had a hard time coming up with good album title so we just stole one, hahaha! It’s from one of our favorite Clutch songs, I’m not telling which one…

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The 11 tracks of earthings? 1998 self-titled debut are a stirring reminder that sometimes the best thing one can be is weird. Among the core lineup of Dave Catching (who’s contributed one way or the other to Queens of the Stone Age, Mojave Lords, Eagles of Death Metal, Goon Moon, Masters of Reality, and many others), Fred Drake (Mark Lanegan, Queens of the Stone Age, and a host of others in various roles), and Pete Stahl (Goatsnake, Scream, Wool, Orquesta del Desierto), is the name of the Rancho de la Luna studio itself where earthlings? was recorded for eventual release through Crippled Dick Hot Wax and Man’s Ruin Records. The studio itself plays a massive role in the ultimate personality of the record, as songs become willfully bizarre explanations of drones or keys like the otherwise straightforward “Reaper (Don’t Fear This Child)” or seem built of Wonka-esque psychotronic experimentation like “Conversing Among Misfits,” which, by the way, is the centerpiece of the album, because of course it is.

In these pieces as well as in opener “Nothing” and the desert-Velvet Underground take of “Saving up for My Spaceship/Illuminate,” and even the QOTSA-adjacent riff-style of “Stungun” — with Scott Reeder on bass, no less — the feel becomes not unlike another hidden edition of Desert Sessions, with Stahl‘s malleable vocals, Drake‘s keys/vocals/sometimes-drums and Catching‘s guitar/keys/bass/whatever emerging as having been born of a similar sonic adventurism. No doubt tales of, “let’s get everyone in the studio for a few days, do drugs and make records,” have been exaggerated, but it’s worth noting that all three members of earthlings? were indeed involved in Desert Sessions at one point or another, and the vibe of the self-titled bears that out in “The Dreaded Lovelies” and the same goes for the subsequent ambience of “The Icy Halls of Sobriety (I Dare Not Tread)” and the chill finish in closer “Triumphant March of the Buffoons,” which rounds out a farewell salvo like the band blew out its songwriting apparatus on “Stungun” and decided to just roll with the anti-consciousness impulse. Sometimes the best thing one can be is weird.

Drake and Stahl share vocal duties on the punkish “Cavalry” while Adam Maples (Legal Weapon, Boneclub, Orquesta del Desierto) steps in on drums, and the pattern of offsetting more straight-ahead moments with bizarre fare continues as the impressionist “Happiest Day of My Life” arrives based around a piano line and interweaving vocals and keyboard, carrying forth a wistfulness that continues into an ending of traffic sounds and the arrival of the bouncing anythingism of “Conversing Among Misfits,” each song a departure from the one before it much as “Nothing” at the outset stands as a departure from reality. What ties them all together, such as they’re intended to be tied together at all, is the sense of freedom behind their making. The tracks on earthlings?‘s self-titled by and large are not smoothed-over, structured pieces intended to land a hook. Their sense of expression is on a different trip.

In hindsight, the post-rocking drift in the guitar of “Nothing” feels somewhat prescient, even with the launch-countdown over top, but what it conveys most of all is that earthlings? were not formed as a band with limits placed on their sound. They were not going to be “this” kind of band or “that” kind of band. They were going to see what happened. True, they inevitably are lumped into the sphere of Californian desert rock in no small part because of their many associations therewith, but that’s not a limit on what they do. With a first album that appeared shortly after Kyuss disbanded, they showed a different side of the desert, less aggressive and more embodying a kind of we-moved-to-the-middle-of-nowhere-for-a-reason aesthetic libertarianism, unwilling to follow dictates other than those of their own creativity. That would turn out to be plenty, of course, as “Saving up for My Spaceship/Illuminate” tops seven minutes of percussion-addled sand psych before giving way to the return of the drum kit on “Reaper (Don’t Fear This Child),” on which Drake‘s sneering vocal approach should recall for anyone who’s heard it that of Zach Huskey of Dali’s Llama, also long underappreciated.

And maybe that middle finger to convention is part of the desert ideal as well, though it’s hard to assess such things from (1:) across the country and (2:) two decades after the fact without indulging the peculiar gonzo romanticism of American counterculture. I’ll save my breath, if that’s cool, and just note that whatever accidents it might produce, the kind of stylistic individuality one hears on earthlings? is never itself anything but willful, and whatever the album might share in common with other outfits to which Stahl or Drake or Catching played in the years since seems much more born of the fact that it’s the same personality being taken along with them on the way. Those personae, in combination with each other and with Rancho de la Luna itself, produced something in this first earthlings? record that inherently could not be reproduced — the capture of a singular moment in time.

Of course, the self-titled isn’t the only thing earthlings? ever put out. They followed it with Human Beans, which featured an even broader range of guests, including Mark Lanegan, Barrett Martin, Josh Homme and Petra Hayden, as well as a drum spot from Dave Grohl, in 2000, members continuing to contribute to Desert Sessions in between. The death of Drake from cancer in 2002 came shortly after the band released their Disco Marching Craft EP, on which he did not appear, and over the years that followed, earthlings? would release sporadic short offerings like 2005’s Individual Sky Cruiser Theory or 2008’s Humalien EPs, bringing Mathias Schneeberger and a swath of other players into the lineup along the way. It wasn’t until 2016’s Mudda Fudda limited vinyl on Last Hurrah Records that earthlings? issued a third full-length, and I wouldn’t profess to know anything about future plans or anything like that. Still, their work remains delightfully strange and rife with the kind of indulgence one wants to indulge because it’s so much fun to follow along, and 21 years after the fact, earthlings? continues to stand resoundingly alone.

As always, I hope you enjoy.

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New episode of The Obelisk Show on Gimme Radio today at 1PM Eastern. I’m doing a special on the Kyuss family tree, the research for which I’ll admit also had me digging into this earthlings? record earlier this week. If you get to check that out, it would surely be appreciated.

Listen at: http://gimmeradio.com

And thanks.

It’s very nearly 4AM now. The Patient Mrs. and I had friends over last night. I turned in around 10 and fell asleep immediately, so don’t even know when she came to bed, but I woke up at 1:30 and never got back to sleep. That’s not going to make my day any easier, I think, but “making my day easier” has never been among my specialties.

This week was a fucking mess. The Esogenesi track that went up earlier I actually reviewed back on like Tuesday because I wanted to review the Orange Goblin show Wednesday morning and still be ahead, so wound up doing Esogenesi on Tuesday to go up today so that yesterday I could just do PH and have that go up immediately. Why does it make a difference? I’m not sure. Would it matter if the Orange Goblin review had gone up the next day? To me, maybe. Which I guess is how that dumb crap happens in the first place.

Ah, now it’s 4AM. The alarm on my phone just went off.

If you saw that Orange Goblin review, thanks. I was pretty thrilled with it. I bought a new lens last week as a moving-house present to myself and took it to that show and C.O.C. in Jersey in order to break it in. It’s fun. I’m pleased with it. It’s not a magic bullet to make me a better photographer or anything, but it’s pro-level even if I’m not. There are a few other shows coming up in the next several weeks, so I’m looking forward to getting to know it more.

This weekend? Yeah, I don’t know. The Patient Mrs. is gone at a conference in Washington, D.C., that will mark the longest time she’s been away from The Pecan. I think she’s nervous about that, but fortunately there’s plenty of distraction. The kid yesterday, man. Oof. What a day. Hitting and yelling and whining and pouting and smacking himself in the face and just crying for nothing. Made me want to check him for new teeth. “Bro, what the hell?” and so on. He can have some pretty intense moments, in the true spirit of a toddler. Splatter my brains on the fucking wall. He’ll be two in October. Not there yet.

It’s okay though. I hear it gets much easier from here and all the concerns go away and you just all of a sudden have a person you love a bunch and can talk to about baseballs and various kinds of gouda cheese and heavy metal and it’s all good and then they take care of you until you die. Pretty sure I read that somewhere.

I signed on to do a bio for WarHorse. It was an honor to be asked. I don’t know when they need it or anything, but I’ll probably post it here when the time comes. In the meantime, I’m interviewing Lori from Acid King next week for a streaming chat — those are getting me back on the phone/Skype with people and I like that; transcription had been keeping me away, and I hate setting up email interviews, which is why Six Dumb Questions only has six questions — and I’m supposed to email questions to the guys from a certain bud-loving British band for liner notes for a reissue they’re doing of a landmark album that I haven’t done yet, and I’m supposed to talk to Peder from Lowrider this weekend about their upcoming PostWax release for liner notes for that. I am, in a word, over-fucking-whelmed. But I do these things to myself. I like being asked to do things. I like being a part of things. I appreciate the fact that someone might give enough of a shit about what I say to print it with their record or to send it out as their statement of who they are as a band. Is the weekend when I’m on my own with the kid the time to be thinking about getting anything at all done? Yeah, no. Am I doing so anyway? Clearly.

What a dope.

I guess I’ll leave on that happy note. A few good premieres next week, and the audio of my interview with Jesse Bartz from L0-Pan that I recorded at their show in Jersey, so keep an eye out for those. It’ll be fun.

Alright. Have a great and safe weekend. Please check out the forum and radio stream and merch at Dropout.

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