Posted in Whathaveyou on May 12th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I guess this could be the end of the band, and it feels more likely to me that it is than it isn’t, but I don’t know that so I’m not going to say it. All I know is that Torche‘s founding guitarist/vocalist Steve Brooks, known previously as well for his work in the somehow-still-underrated Floor, has said he’ll leave the band following their Fall tour alongside Meshuggah, for which In Flames and Converge will switch out playing support slots as you can see in the poster below.
Torche‘s most recent album is 2019’s Admission (review here), which if you gotta go out is a good note to do it on. Long since in command of their style, Torche — who’ll also play Desertfest in New York this weekend; you might say I’m waiting for the pre-show to start while I type this — nonetheless continued to foster a sound equal parts exciting and their own. No word on what future projects if any Brooks might have in the offing, but for nearly 20 years, Torche have been a staple of the heavy underground, touring hard and bridging pop and heavy rock in a way that still feels pioneering.
If this is the end of the band — it’d be a ballsy move to keep it going without him, but stranger things have happened — there was never a point at which they didn’t kick ass. And if this weekend is the last time I see them, or if this tour is, I’m going to enjoy it all the more for posterity’s sake.
Brooks‘ post follows, backed by the Meshuggah dates from the PR wire:
We’re a few months away from the last tour I’m doing with Torche. We’ve been so very lucky and went far beyond what I imagined. I just don’t have it in me to keep this going living on opposite sides of the country. Much love to my band members and everyone that supported us these 18 years! See y’all this Sept/Oct
MESHUGGAH w/ Torche & Converge/In Flames 9/16/2022 Palladium – Worcester, MA 9/17/2022 Franklin Music Hall – Philadelphia, PA 9/18/2022 Hammerstein Ballroom – New York, NY 9/20/2022 The Fillmore – Silver Springs, MD 9/24/2022 Agora Theatre – Cleveland, OH 9/25/2022 Express Live – Columbus, OH 9/27/2022 Stage AE – Pittsburgh, PA 9/28/2022 Royal Oak Theatre – Detroit, MI 9/29/2022 Radius – Chicago, IL 9/30/2022 Myth Live – Minneapolis, MI 10/02/2022 Fillmore Auditorium – Denver, CO 10/04/2022 The Warfield Theatre – San Francisco, CA 10/08/2022 Riverside Municipal Auditorium – Riverside, CA 10/09/2022 Hollywood Palladium – Los Angeles, CA 10/10/2022 Marquee Theatre – Tempe, AZ 10/12/2022 The Factory In Deep Ellum – Dallas, TX 10/13/2022 Warehouse Live – Houston, TX 10/15/2022 Hard Rock Live – Orlando, FL 10/16/2022 Buckhead Theatre – Atlanta, GA
Posted in Reviews on March 30th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Hello Day Two of the Quarterly Review. It started by oversleeping by about an hour, but so it goes. Yesterday went about as smoothly as I can ask a QR day to go, so I’m hoping that today follows suit despite the rough start. There’s nothing like building some momentum once you get going with these writeups. It’s about as close to ‘in the zone’ as I get. Trance of productivity.
As always, I hope you find something here you dig. Today’s round is good and all over the place, so maybe everyone’ll get lucky. Here goes.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Jess and the Ancient Ones, Vertigo
More than a decade on from their founding, Finland’s Jess and the Ancient Ones are an established brand when it comes to cult psych rock, and their fourth full-length, issued through Svart, is gleeful to the point of witch-cackling on “Talking Board” (think Ouija) and offers rousing classically-stylized hooks on fellow early cuts like opener “Burning of the Velvet Fires” and “World Paranormal” as well as side B’s “Born to Kill,” the Dr. Strangelove-sampling “Summer Tripping Man” and the organ-washed “What’s on Your Mind” ahead of an 11-minute prog rock grand finale in “Strange Earth Illusion” that feels very much like the impetus toward which the album has been driving all along. Relax, you’re in the hands of professional mystics, and their acid rock vibes are made all the more grand by Jess‘ soulful delivery atop the ever-clever arrangements of guitar, organ, bass, drums, samples, and so on. This kind of cultish lysergic fare has never been and never will be for everyone. Listening to Vertigo, you can only really wonder why that is.
Metallic overload! Irish assault supreme! All sentences end with exclamation points! A new Dread Sovereign record doesn’t come along every day, or year, but the Dublin trio certainly make it count when one does. Alchemical Warfare is the third LP from the Alan Averill-fronted outfit, and with Johnny “Con Ri” King (also Conan) on drums and guitarist Bones Huse (also Wizards of Firetop Mountain), the band tear through nine tracks and 51 minutes of doom-colored metallurgy, throwing unrepentant fists in the air under darkened, irony-free skies. By the time 10-minute post-intro opener “She Wolves of the Savage Season” is over, if you’re not ready to quit your job and join the legion about to set march to “The Great Beast We Serve,” it’s no fault of the band’s. “Nature is the Devil’s Church” was the lead single and is a standout hook, but the grandiosity of “Ruin Upon the Temple Mount”‘s Candlemassy riffing is too good to be ignored, and they finish with a Bathory cover, because fucking a, that’s why.
The debut EP from Brazilian instrumentalist trio Space Smoke runs all of 12 minutes, but that’s long enough for Aurora Dourada to give an impression of where the band are coming from. Three distinct tracks — “Magia Cerimonial,” “Interludio” and “Corpo Solar” — comprise the outing, and the middle one is indeed an interlude, so it’s really the opener and closer doing the heavy lifting. “Magia Cerimonia” starts off with a sense of foreboding but makes its way instead into hypnotic repetition, bordering on a meditative lumber that doesn’t stick around long enough to be redundant, and with the interlude as a breath between, the eight-minute “Corpo Solar” rounds out as the most substantial piece of the outing, drifting guitar over languid drums and bass, dreamy and sopping wet with reverb. They push it heavier than its quiet beginning, of course, but even the howling lead work near the finish maintains the inviting and immersive vibe with which they set out. Might be a blip of things to come, but it’s a blip worth checking out. Mini-trip.
Infinite Hum is the striking debut LP from Bakersfield, California, post-hardcore heavy three/four-piece If it Kills You, who along with the periodic charred guest vocals on half the six tracks, bring together a quick assemblage for a 12″ that readily alternates between melodic sway and shoutier roll. They groove despite unpredictable turns, and their blend of hefted tones and punker-grown-up melodies makes a welcome impression on opener “We Don’t Belong Here” or “Moving Target.” Starts and stops and a bit of winding lead work give “Repeat Resolve” an edge of noise rock — more than an edge, actually; kind of like the flat side of a brick — but If it Kills You never push to one side or the other entirely, and as the screams return for later in “Repeat Resolve” and closer “Projections,” charged every time with and succeeding at pushing a crescendo over the top, the band manage to bring sincerity and structure together with what sounds like experienced hands. Don’t be fooled by “first album”; they know what they’re doing.
I’m not sure if anyone still calls this kind of thing “neo-folk,” but I am sure I don’t care. The sense of atmosphere Clara Engel puts into her latest album, A New Skin, beginning with the shift between minimal guitar and keyboard on “Starry Eyed Goat,” uses negative space no less effectively than does the mostly-black cover art, and the eight-song/46-minute outing that ensues alternates between emotive and wondrously ambient, suited to the home recording done during (presumed) isolation in Fall 2020. Engel handles all instrumentation herself and remains indelibly human in her sometimes-layered vocal delivery all the while, speaking to a building-out process of the material, but one does not get the sense in listening to “Night Tide” and the sparse “Thieves” back-to-back that the foundation of all the songs is the same, which is all the more representative of an exploratory songwriting process. A New Skin as a whole feels likewise exploratory, a reflection inward as much as out.
Long-running Italian trio Maya Mountains issued Era through Go Down Records in 2020 as their first album in some six years, readily engaging with desert rock on cuts like “San Saguaro” and closer “El Toro,” working in a bit of post-Queens of the Stone Age riffy quirk to go along with less bouncing and chunkier fare on “Vibromatic” and “Baumgartner,” or “Extremely High,” which makes its speedier tempo feel organic ahead of the finish. All told, it’s 44 minutes of solid heavy rock, with variation between songs of what each is working toward doing that does nothing to pull away from the vibe as a whole, whether that’s in a more aggressive moment like “Vibromatic” or the spacier playfulness at the start of “Raul,” the band clearly unafraid of letting a little funk hold sway for a minute or two. Engaging without being revolutionary, Era knows its craft and audience alike, and offers one to the other without pretense or presumption. It’s rock for rockers, but what’s wrong with that?
An awaited first long-player from Miami duo Cave of Swimmers — vocalist/guitarist/synthesist Guillermo Gonzalez and drummer/percussionist/vocalist Arturo Garcia — packages epic metal in tight-knit bursts of heavy rock tonality. Choruses in “The Sun” and “Double Rainbow” are grand affairs not because their tones are so huge, but because of the melodies that top them, and at the same time, with riffs at the forefront of the verses, the duo make progressive shifts sound classic in the vein of Iron Maiden or Dio with a still-prevailing fuzzy topcoat. Centerpiece “My Human” is a love song that slams, while “Looking Glass” leans deeper into prog metal but brings the listener along with a another sweeping hook, a pattern of tension and release that carries over to “Dirt” as well, which leaves “C.S” to close out with its “Sign of the Southern Cross” keyboard-and-harmonies intro en route to a poised but still thrashing finish. There’s life in heavy metal, and here it is.
Straight out of Sheffield, UK, Blind Monarch first released their What is Imposed Must Be Endured four-song/56-minute full-length on Black Bow Records in 2020 and it’s been picked up for a 2LP vinyl pressing by Dry Cough Records. There’s something to be said for splitting up these tracks each onto its own side, making the whole release more manageable despite getting up to do a side or platter flip, but any way you go, “Suffering Breathes My Name” (13:45), “My Mother, My Cradle, My Tomb” (10:47), “Blind Monarch” (14:10) and closer “Living Altar” (17:54) are geared toward sharp-toothed death-sludge consumption, extreme in thought and deed. Feedback is strewn about the place like so much flayed skin, and even in the quiet moments at the start and laced into “Living Altar,” the atmosphere remains oppressive. Yet, endure one must. Blind Monarch, even among the UK’s ultra-packed underground, are a standout in how maddeningly heavy they manage to be, and on their debut outing, no less. If you missed it last year, be ready to pay extra for shipping.
Each track on Italian instrumentalist trio Cancervo‘s debut album, titled simply 1, is intended to represent an area near their home in the mountainous region of Lombardy, Italy. Their tones are duly thick, their presentation patient and their cast is broad in terms of its landscape. From “Averara,” one might see kilometers, in other words. Whether or not you’re familiar with Cancervo‘s locale, their tonal warmth and heavy psychedelic expanse resonates immersively, letting each of the two sides develop on its own from the beginnings in “Cancervo” and “Darco,” both the longest cuts on their respective halves. The fuller fuzz of “SWLABR” and the punch of bass that accompanies the tom hits on closer “1987” are subtle shifts emblematic of Cancervo‘s creative progression getting underway, and the task to which they set themselves — portraying place in sound — is no less admirable than their accomplishment of same would see to be. I’ve never been there, so can’t confirm 100 percent if that’s what it sounds like, but in repeat listens, I’m happy to take the band’s word (or riffs) for it.
Its four cuts run 17 minutes with the last of them an instrumental title-track that’s under three, but I don’t care — the entire thing is so righteously raw and garage nasty that I’m on board with however much Argentina’s Sahara want to bring to The Curse. “Gallows Noose” sounds like it was taped, and then re-taped, and then re-taped again before finally being pressed (to tape), and there’s no mistaking that’s an aesthetic choice on the part of the band, who probably have phones that could make something with clearer audio, but the in-room demo feel of “Hell on Earth” and “Altar of Sacrifice,” the rootsy metal-of-doom feel of it hits on its own level. Sometimes you just want something that comes across barebones and mean, and that’s what The Curse does. Call it retro, call it unproduced, call it whatever you want, it doesn’t matter. Sahara (bring looks that) kill it on that Sabbath-worshiping altar and sound dirt-coated all the while, making everything everything else in the universe seem more complicated than it needs to be.
Posted in Reviews on December 21st, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Kind of a spur of the moment thing, this Quarterly Review. I’ve been adding releases all the while, of course, but my thought was to do this after my year-end list went up, and I realized, hey, if I’ve got like 70 records I haven’t reviewed yet, maybe there’s some of that stuff worth considering. So here we are. I’ve pushed back my best-of-2020 stuff and basically swapped it with the Quarterly Review. Does it matter to you? I seriously, seriously doubt it, but I believe in transparency and that’s what’s up. Thought I’d let you know. And yeah, this is going to go into next week, take us through the X-mas holiday this Friday, so whatever. You celebrate your way and I’ll celebrate mine. Let’s roll.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
Boris, No
As a general project, reviewing Boris is damn near pointless. One might as well review the moon: “uh, it’s big and out there most of the time?” The only reason to do it is either to exercise one’s own need to hyperbolize or help the band sell records. Well, Boris doesn’t need my push and I don’t need to tell them how great they are. No is 40 minutes of the widely and wildly lauded Japanese heavy rock(s) experimentalists trying to riff away existing in 2020, delving high speed into hardcore here and there and playing off that with grueling sludge, punk, garage-metal and the penultimate “Loveless,” which is kind of Boris being their own genre. Much respect to the band, and I suppose one might critique Boris for, what?, being so Boris-y?, but there really isn’t a ton that hasn’t been said about them because such a ton has. I’m not trying to disparage their work at all — No is just what you’d expect as regards defying expectation — but after 20-plus years, there’s only so many ways one wants to call a band genius.
Kind of a soft-opening for Edinburgh’s DVNE as an act on Metal Blade Records, unless of course one counts the two songs on the Omega Severer EP itself, which are post-metallic beasts of the sort that would and should make The Ocean blush. Progressive, heavy, and remarkably ‘next-wave’ feeling, DVNE‘s awaited follow-up to 2017’s Asheran may only be about 17 and a half minutes long, but it bodes remarkably well as the band master a torrent of intensity on the 10-minute opening title-cut and answer that with the immediately galloping “Of Blade and Carapace,” smashing battle-axe riffing and progressive shimmer against each other and finding it to be an alchemy of their own. Album? One suspects not until they can tour for it, but if Omega Severer is DVNE serving notice, consider the message received loud, clear, dynamic, crushing, spacious, and so on. Already veterans of Psycho Las Vegas, they sound like a band bent on capturing a broader audience in the metallic sphere.
There’s no questioning where Hydra‘s heart is at on their debut full-length, From Light to the Abyss. It belongs to the devil and it belongs to Black Sabbath. The Polish four-piece riff hard and straightforward throughout most of the five-track offering (released by Piranha Music), and samples set the kind of atmosphere that should be familiar enough to the converted — “No One Loves Like Satan” reminds of Uncle Acid in its initial channel-changing and swaggering riff alike — but doomly centerpiece “Creatures of the Woods” and the layered vocal melodies late in closer “Magical Mind” perhaps offer a glimpse at the direction the band could take from here. What matters though is where Hydra are at today, and that’s bringing riffs and nod to the converted among the masses, and From Light to the Abyss offers no pretense otherwise. It is doom rock for doom rockers, grooves to be grooved to. They’re not void of ambition by any means — their songwriting makes that clear — but their traditionalism is sleeve-worn, which if you’re going to have it, is right where it should be.
Dead Meadow guitarist/vocalist Jason Simon follows 2016’s Familiar Haunts (review here) with the genre-spanning A Venerable Wreck, finding folk roots in obscure beats and backwards this-and-that, country in fuzz, ramble in space, and no shortage of experimentalism besides. A Venerable Wreck consists of 12 songs and though there are times where it can feel disjointed, that becomes part of the ride. It’s not all supposed to make sense. Yet what happens by the time you get around to “No Entrance No Exit” is that Simon (and a host of cohorts) has set his own context broad enough so that the drone reach of “Hollow Lands” and sleek, organ-laced indie of closer “Without Reason or Right” can coexist without any real interruption of flow between them. The question with A Venerable Wreck isn’t so much whether the substance is there, it’s whether the listener is open to it. Welcome to psychedelic America. Please inject this snake venom and turn in your keys when you leave.
You won’t hear me take away from the opening psych-scorch hook of “Mindbreaker” or the fuzzed-on, boogie-down, -up, and -sideways of “Black Annis” which follows, but there’s something extra fun about hearing Frog Island’s Cherry Choke jam out a 13-minute, drum-solo-inclusive version of “6ix and 7even” that makes Raising Salzburg Rockhouse even more of a reminder of how underrated both they are as a band and Mat Bethancourt is as a player. Look no further than “Domino” if you want absolute proof. The whole band rips it up at the Austrian gig, which was recorded in 2015 as they supported their third and still-most-recent full-length, Raising the Waters (review here), but Bethancourt puts on a Hendrixian clinic in the nine-minute cut from 2011’s A Night in the Arms of Venus (review here), which is actually less of a clinic than it is pure distorted swagger followed by a mellow “cheers, thanks” before diving into “Used to Call You Friend.” A 38-minute set would be perfect for an vinyl release, and anytime Cherry Choke want to get around to putting together a fourth studio album, well, that’ll be just fine too.
It’s a special breed of aggro that emerges as a result of living in the most densely populated state in the union, and New Jersey’s Pariiah have it to spare. Bringing together sludge tonality with elder-style New York hardcore lumbering riffs on their Trip Machine Laboratories tape, Swallowed by Fog, they exude a thickened brand of pissed off that’s outright going to be too confrontation for many who take it on. But if you want a middle finger to the face, this is what it sounds like, and the six songs (compiled into four on the digital version of the release) come and go entirely without pretense and leave little behind except bruises and the promise of more to come. They’re a new band, started in this most wretched of years, but there’s no learning curve whatsoever among the members of Devoid of Faith, The Nolan Gate, Kill Your Idols, Changeörder and others. I’d go to Maplewood to see these cats. I’m just saying. Maybe even Elizabeth.
So you’ve got both members of Holly Hunt in a four-piece sludging out with spacey synth and the band is named after a Star Trek character? Not to get too personal, but that’s going to pique my interest one way or the other. Saavik — and they clearly prefer the Kirstie Alley version, rather than Robin Curtis, going by drummer Beatriz Monteavaro‘s artwork — are damn near playing space rock by the end of “He’s Dead Jim,” the opener of their self-titled debut EP, but even that’s affected by a significant tonal weight in Didi Aragon‘s bass and the guitar of Gavin Perry, however much Ryan Rivas‘ synth and effects-laced vocals might seem to float overhead, but “Meld” rolls along at a steadier nod, and “Horizon” puts the synth more in the lead without becoming any less heavy for doing so. Likewise, “Red Sun” calls to mind Godflesh in its proto-machine metal stomp, but there’s more concern in Saavik‘s sound with expanse than just pure crush, and that shows up in fascinating ways in these songs.
There’s been a dark vibe all along nestled into Mountain Tamer‘s sound, and that’s certainly the case on Psychosis Ritual, with which the Los Angeles-based trio make their debut on Heavy Psych Sounds. It’s their third full-length overall behind 2018’s Godfortune // Dark Matters (review here) and 2016’s self-titled debut (review here), and it finds their untamed-feeling psychedelia rife with that same threat of violence, not necessarily thematically as much as sonically, like the songs themselves are the weapon about to be turned on the listener. Maybe the buzz of “Warlock” or the fuckall echo of the prior-issued single “Death in the Woods” (posted here) aren’t out there trying to be “Hammer Smashed Face” or anything, but neither is this the hey-bruh-good-times heavy jams for which Southern California is known these days. Consider the severity of “Turoc Maximus Antonis” or the finally-released screams in closer “Black Noise,” which bookends Psychosis Ritual with the title-track and seems at last to be the point where whatever grim vibe these guys are riding finally consumes them. Mountain Tamer continue to be unexpected and righteous in kind.
Hypnotic Estonian psychedelic krautrock instrumentals not your thing? Well that sounds like a personal problem Centre El Muusa are ready to solve. The evolved-from-duo four-piece get spaced out amid the semi-motorik repetitions of their self-titled debut (on Sulatron), and that seems to suit them quite well, thanksabunch. Drone trips and essential swirl brim with solar-powered pulsations and you can set your deflectors on maximum and route all the secondaries to reinforce if you want, there’s still a decent chance 9:53 opener an longest track “Turkeyfish” (immediate points, double for the appropriately absurd title) is going to sweep you off what you used to call your feet when that organ line hits at about six minutes in. That’s to say nothing of the cosmic collision later in “Burning Lawa” or the just-waiting-for-a-Carl-Sagan-voiceover “Mia” that follows. Even the 3:46 “Ain’t Got Enough Mojo” lives long enough to prove itself wrong. Interstellar tape transmissions fostered by obvious weirdos in the great out-there in “Szolnok,” named for a city in Hungary that, among other things, hosts the goulash festival. Right fucking on.
The first Population II album, a 2017 self-titled, was comprised of two tracks, each long enough to consume a 12″ side. Somehow it’s fitting with the Montreal-based singing-drummer trio’s aesthetic that their second long-player, À la Ô Terre, would take a completely different tack, employing shorter freakouts like “L’Offrande” and “La Nuit” and the garage-rocking “La Danse” and what-if-Jefferson–Airplane-but-on-Canadian-mushrooms “À la Porte de Demain” and still-more-drifting finisher “Je Laisse le Soleil Briller” amid the more stretched out “Attaction,” the space-buzzer “Ce n’est Réve” while cutting a middle ground in the greaked-out (I was gonna type “freaked out” and hit a typo and I’m keeping it) “Il eut un Silence dans le Ciel,” which also betrays the jazzy underpinnings that somehow make all of À la Ô Terre come across as progressive instead of haphazard. From the start to the close, you don’t know what’s coming next, and just because that’s by design doesn’t make it less effective. If anything, it makes Population II all the more impressive.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on October 23rd, 2020 by JJ Koczan
In 2009, Robotic Empire released the comprehensive and consuming 11LP/8CD discography box set Below & Beyond (discussed here) from Miami bomb-tone heavy rockers Floor. The band, part of the wide-reaching family tree of sludgers Cavity, had their own sludge elements, but with the vocals and tonal heft of guitarist Steve Brooks, fostered a penchant for upbeat and almost poppy songcraft. Amid a vast swath of EPs and other short releases, their 2002 self-titled debut full-length (discussed here) gained an after-the-fact cult following despite the band’s breakup the same year, thanks at least in part to Brooks‘ subsequent work in the similarly-minded-if-less-punk Torche. Even with the box set, a Floor reunion didn’t seem likely. At that point, Torche were riding the success of 2008’s Meanderthal and their Chapter Ahead Being Fake split with Boris, and that seemed very much where the priority was. Fair enough. One more band that those who saw the first time around were lucky to have seen.
You see where this is going. By 2010, Floor — with the lineup of Brooks on guitar/vocals, Anthony Vialon on guitar and Henry Wilson on drums — were touring (review here) and drawing out the next-generation crowd who’d either heard of them through word of mouth on the burgeoning phenomenon of mobilized social media, or had otherwise traced the line back from Torche and discovered that Floor were not only the root from which that band’s early ideas grew, but a special act with landmark material of their own. One way or the other, people came out, and Floor continued activity mostly around Florida and Georgia, but elsewhere too. In 2013, the announcement came through they’d signed to Season of Mist and had a new album coming, and a little over a year and more touring (review here) later, they released Oblation (review here), collecting 14 tracks and 44 minutes of new material that even six years later continues to resonate.
Though it seemed at the time to exist in the shadow of the self-titled, Oblation was and remains its own album with its own strengths of songwriting and delivery. The opening riff of the title-track brings the massive weight that Floor always made bounce in what seemed like such a miracle, and unfolded with immediate spaciousness and melody. Slower than much of what would follow, its lurch doubled as a setup for the sprint of the hooky “Rocinante” and the bombastic “Trick Scene” — a showcase for how underrated Floor always were as songwriters and doubly so how underrated Wilson was/is as a drummer. He not only follows the changes of riff, meter and rhythm, but enhances them, and comes across as duly massive in so doing, complementing the tones of Vialon and Brooks while also being the punch behind the stops in “Trick Scene” and the wash that flows through “Find Away,” which follows. The hook party continues as the 47-second instrumental “The Key” makes an intro for “New Man,” another in the ongoing series of righteously propulsive grooves, catchy despite no obvious hit-you-over-the-head-chorus and a lead-in for “Sister Sophia” and the feedback-soaked “The Quill,” which finish the first of the two LPs with Floor‘s signature sensibility of all-momentum-until-the-crash well intact.
Outside of the still-to-come “Sign of Aeth” (7:54), side C opener “Love Comes Crushing” is the only other track on Oblation over four minutes long. It still manages to sprint and gallop to its conclusion, and by the time “War Party” starts, Floor have picked up where they’ve left off. “War Party” was the first single released from the record ahead of its release, and fair enough. Under three minutes. Melodic. Unspeakably heavy. Motion. Quick and memorable with an emotional undercurrent to its melody — it would be and was a sign to listeners both of Floor‘s progression since their disbanding nine years earlier and of how much of their original approach was held over to their reunion. With “Homegoings and Transitions,” which would be enough of a standout to feature on a 12″ EP in 2014 with “Shadowline” and an etched B-side, pushed melody to the forefront with a rare, more patient take, and so brought about “Sign of Aeth” on side D as the beginning of Oblation‘s final movement. Riddled with Rush references, the sense of willful departure in “Sign of Aeth” is of course palpable, but as much as Floor are known for shorter songs, they’ve never had any trouble transposing that to longer material when it suits their needs. And though the fadeout of “Sign of Aeth” feels awfully final as it goes, “Raised to a Star” revives the forward thrust and “Forever Still” adds more melody to that as the record runs inexorably to its end.
Floor toured to support Oblation, and hit Europe for what I’m pretty sure was the first time ever in 2015, including a stop at Roadburn (review here) in the Netherlands. They continued to do regional Florida gigs periodically until about 2016, and by then, Brooks‘ focus seemed to have shifted back to Torche and Wilson had already released one full-length with his House of Lightning project and would soon offer a second. No one could say they didn’t put their work in or give the record its due, but Floor just kind of petered out after that, which considering the energy and the momentum built up in Oblation‘s tracks, kind of left them in the same place as the self-titled — seeming like a band with more to say leaving it unsaid.
To me, Floor is movement. I have a few albums I refuse to travel without, and Floor‘s self-titled and Oblation are both on that list, permanently. That sense of momentum. I hear Oblation and think of getting off an airplane, walking up to a gate. Maybe going somewhere else, maybe going home, but going. Floor is get-off-your-ass-and-do-something music, and more than just that too. Because it’s not just that the songs are fast, or that they lock in this mini-epic feel, or that they’re catchy. They’re almost totally individualized. Even when one puts Floor next to Torche, they don’t sound the same. Floor‘s identity as a band was/maybe-is something unique, and something that well deserved the fulfillment that Oblation gave it. As to whether it’s the final word on Floor as a whole, of course I have no idea, but its character and that distinctive shove still feel like they want to keep moving forward.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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This weekend, The Pecan turns three, and the “still two” mantra that The Patient Mrs. and I have employed to explain various behaviors over these hard months of isolation will no longer apply. It’ll be “still three.” I love him desperately — more than I thought I would, if I can say that — and I look forward to being a grandfather.
I had one of those things this past week where you get a year older as well. I’m 39 now. As The Patient Mrs. precedes me by eight months or so, she has already been experiencing some anxiety about turning 40. Fortunately — or not at all so — there has been plenty happening throughout this year to pull her attention in other directions. I do not see myself having particular trouble turning 40. I was never particularly good at being young, except maybe for the drinking. Mostly I was just an asshole. Now I’m quieter about it and I care less about what music other people listen to or what movies they watch. I was a real prick about that stuff for a long time. Different brand of asshole these days.
Her semester continues to be hard, and harder than it needs to be thanks to her university’s handling of the situation. I have friends who teach in high school and middle school I saw this week as well and their misery was recognizable (if differentiated) from hers. My mother was a teacher, and I probably should’ve been too, if we’re honest, but I am a firm believer that no teacher at any level of education should make less than $100,000 a year. Ever. Anywhere. Plus holiday bonuses. There is no more important work, and to see those in position as educators get so screwed over time and again, in the case of my friends as benefits and positions are slowly chipped away toward the cause of privatization, only emphasizes the point that the ruling elite class of this country wants the middle and working classes beneath them to be dumber and easily controlled. Those without awareness of critical thinking are less inclined to look around and see how they’re being fucked over by capitalism.
Alas, tangent.
The dog also peed on The Patient Mrs. last night while we were sitting on the couch watching the new episode of Star Trek: Discovery. I remain in camp “find this dog a better home,” and I continue to seem to be the only one there. Three months now, zero joy, zero fun. At her most tolerable moments, she is at least work. I find the best times are when I can pretend for a while she doesn’t exist. It does not feel good to actively dislike an animal.
So, family time this weekend for The Pecan’s birthday and also my niece’s, which is after Halloween — I would not be surprised to see us journeying north to see them in Connecticut next weekend even though they’re here as of whatever point today — and a full week next week both domestically and in writing terms. Premieres slated every day, which has its ups and downs like anything.
I’m going to try to do another video interview — looking at you, Peder Bergstrand from Lowrider — but with a packed weekend, a Gimme Metal show next week, and The Pecan starting pre-K on Monday, I honestly may or may not get there. We’ll see.
Or won’t see, if I don’t get it done. I kind of hated seeing my face in that Crystal Spiders interview this week. I wonder if I could take myself out of the picture.
Anyway, it’s 6:30AM and The Pecan’s starting to stir and I need a post-run shower, so I’m gonna split out. Have a great and safe weekend. Enjoy the Fall if that’s your thing — it’s my favorite season or at least it used to be before climate change — and don’t forget to hydrate. So important.
They call it a play-along rather than a playthrough, and to me that just sounds like a dare. As if to tell you to go ahead and try it. You might, and hell, you might even be able to pull it off, but you’d be one up on me. Cave of Swimmers‘ new video for “Still Running” essentially portrays the duo’s studio process, each member of the band shown on two separate cameras playing their parts, with Guillermo Gonzalez pulling minor double-duty switching between bass and guitar necks as Arturo García jumps from snareless-snare percussion lines to blastbeats like it’s the kind of thing bands do all the time.
The track comes from a remastered edition of Cave of Swimmers‘ 2015 EP, Reflection, and though they haven’t done much in the studio since putting out the single “The Sun” in 2017, they’ve continued to put their time in on tour (not this year, obviously) and have obviously been honing their chops. They make this song look easy.
And maybe it is for them. It’s an older track, after all, so presumably they’ve been kicking out the proverbial jams on it for the last half-decade and it’s routine. Still an impressive sight from this end, and it’s a reminder that, sooner or later, someday, somewhere, somehow, Cave of Swimmers are going to release a full-length debut. It will happen. They released their first EP in 2013 and sounded ready then, and they don’t seem to have gotten less so over time, but nothing has manifested up to this point and, well, I think it’s been long enough. A remaster of Reflection is cool, certainly a welcome refresher on the quality of the original, but it’s time to make a record happen and watch heads start spinning in response.
With the remaster of the album “Reflection” comes a two-part video series. Part 1, “Still Running” a fast-paced-prog-influenced song with revealing lyrics and a cool interlude showcasing Guille’s double neck guitar/bass. The split screen theme has been used a lot during these pandemic times in social media, yet Cave of Swimmers bring a very high quality split screen video showing each member in detail for those daring to learn their parts. Part 2 coming soon…
Since the band’s conception, this Florida-based power duo continues to earn a reputation as a beautifully strange and artistic musical force, rich with wild and colorful dynamics and genre-bending soundscapes. They have toured the country, garnering fans across the US, and have a surprising international following in Europe, South America, Australia, and Russia despite never having been overseas. They were also invited to play at the Psycho Las Vegas Festival in 2016 along side Sleep, Blue Oyster Cult, Electric Wizard, among others. The writing is on the wall, pun intended. Simply put, the Cave of Swimmers has never stopped making Rock Art.
Cave of Swimmers are: Guillermo Gonzalez: Lead Vocals, Guitar, Synth Arturo García: Drums, Percussion, Vocals
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 4th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Based in Miami and Atlanta, the Southeastern two-piece of Juan Montoya (ex-Torche) and Evan DiPrima (ex-Royal Thunder) form the core of Moon Destroys, and their mission, at least judging by the bit of their aptly-titled debut EP, Maiden Voyage, that I’ve had the chance to hear, would seem to be to further blur the line between heavy and prog, which is a barrier that over the last several years has only become increasingly obscure. Inevitably that will lead to a snap-back/regression sooner or later, but that’s years away, frankly, and in the interim, an outfit like Moon Destroys, which brings shades of Montoya‘s brighter-tinged guitar work along with guest vocals from Cynic‘s Paul Masvidal and Mastodon‘s Troy Sanders — working that prog angle — makes for a fascinating as well as head-spinning listen. You can stream “Blue Giant” below, which is the cut with Sanders, and it’s one to keep up with, but it proves worth the effort to do so.
Something cool to check out that doesn’t sound like everything else? Yeah, I’ll give that upwards of four minutes out of my day, thanks. Preorders are also a thing.
Dig:
MOON DESTROYS (ex-TORCHE, ex-ROYAL THUNDER): Announce Debut EP Maiden Voyage coming March 27th
MOON DESTROYS is the brainchild of guitarist Juan Montoya (ex-Torche) and drummer Evan Diprima ( Brother Hawk, ex-Royal Thunder). Having written together in various configurations for over a decade, they now come together under the auspices of celestial forces with a new project to unveil their mesmerizing debut EP Maiden Voyage.
An experiment of truly galactic proportions, MOON DESTROYS blend heavy riffage with psychedelic flourishes and vivid imagery across two intricately designed centerpiece tracks; “Blue Giant” along with “Stormbringer” featuring the gorgeous vocals of Paul Masvidal (Cynic) and layers of synths from Bryan Richie (The Sword). Three instrumental bursts connect the pieces together to create one mind-melting trip across the cosmic highway! Maiden Voyage is an absorbing, dynamic and forward-thinking debut that explores the new frontiers of heavy music in the 21st century.
Maiden Voyage will be released on March 27th on LP/Digital via Brutal Panda Records and is available for pre-order at this LOCATION.
Tracklisting: 1. At The End Of Time 2. Blue Giant (feat. Troy Sanders) 3. The Shores Of The Cosmic Ocean 4. Stormbringer (feat. Paul Masvidal) 5. The Edge Of Forever
We meet again. The Summer 2019 Quarterly Review. It’s four in the morning and I’m getting ready to start the day. I haven’t even managed to pour myself coffee yet, which even as I type it out feels like a crime against humanity, such as it is. I’ll get there though.
Wednesday in the Quarterly Review marks the halfway point of the week, and as we’ll hit 30 reviews at the end, it’s half of the total 60 as well, so yeah. Feeling alright so far. As always, good music helps. I’ve added a couple things for consideration to my ongoing best-of-the-year list for December, so that’s something. And I think I’ll probably be doing so again today, so let’s get to it.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Torche, Admission
15 years later and Torche‘s sound is still expanding. To that point, it’s never sounded quite as expansive as it does on Admission, their fifth album and second for Relapse behind 2015’s Restarter (review here). There are still plenty of straight-ahead heavy riffs on cuts like “Reminder” or “Slide” or the bomb-tone-laden “Infierno,” but in the title-track, in “Times Missing,” the closer “Changes Come,” “Slide” and even the 1:30-long “What Was,” there’s a sense of spaciousness and float to the guitars to contrast all that crunch, and it effectively takes the place of some of the manic feel of their earlier work. It’s consistent with the brightness of their melodies in songs like “Extremes of Consciousness” and the early pusher “Submission,” and it adds to their style rather than takes away, building on the mid-paced feel of the last album in such a way as to demonstrate the band’s continued growth long after they’d be well within their rights to rest on their laurels. Sharp, consistent in its level of songwriting, mature and engaging across its 36-minute entirety, Admission is everything one might ask of Torche‘s fifth album.
If you, like me, believe doom to be the guardian style of classic heavy metal — you could also argue power metal there, but that’s why it’s an argument — Chicago’s Spillage might be the band to help make your case. With their own Ronnie James Dio in Elvin Rodriguez (not a comparison I make lightly) and a connection to the Trouble family tree via founding guitarist Tony Spillman, who also played in Earthen Grave, the band unfurl trad-metal poise throughout their 53-minute second album, Blood of Angels, hitting touchstones like Sabbath, Priest, and indeed Trouble on a chugger like “Free Man,” a liberal dose of organ on “Rough Grooved Surface” adding to the classic feel — Rainbow, maybe? — and even the grandiose ballad “Voice of Reason” that appears before the closing Sabbath cover “Dirty Women” staying loyal to the cause. I can’t and won’t fault them for that, as in both their originals and in the cover, their hearts are obviously in it all the way and the sound is right on, the sleek swing in the second half of “Evil Doers” punctuated by squealing guitar just as it should be. Mark it a win for the forces of metal, maybe less so for the angels.
San Diego strikes again with Pharlee‘s self-titled debut on Tee Pee Records, a 29-minute boogie rock shove that’s marked out by the significant pipes of Macarena Rivera up front, the shuffling snare work of Zack Oakley (also guitar in JOY and Volcano) and the organ work of Garret Lekas throughout, winding around and accentuating the riffs of Justin “Figgy” Figueroa and the air-push bass of Dylan Donovan. It’s a proven formula by now, but Pharlee‘s Pharlee is like the band who comes on stage in the middle of the festival and surprises everyone and reminds them why they’re there in the first place. The energy of “Darkest Hour” is infectious, and the bluesier take on Freddie King‘s “Going Down” highlights a stoner shred in Figueroa‘s guitar that fits superbly ahead of the fuzz freakout, all-go closer “Sunward,” and whatever stylistic elements (and personnel, for that matter) might be consistent with their hometown’s well-populated underground, Pharlee take that radness and make it their own.
Long-running desert rockers Dali’s Llama return with Mercury Sea, their first release since 2017’s The Blossom EP (review here) and their first full-length since 2016’s Dying in the Sun (review here), sounding reinvigorated in rockers like opener “Weary” and the subsequent grunge-vibing “Choking on the Same,” “When Ember Laughs” and the garage-style “She’s Not Here.” Persistently underappreciated, their albums always have a distinct feel, and Mercury Sea is no different, finding a place for itself between the laid-back desert blues and punkier fare on a cut like “Someday, Someday,” even delving into psychedelic folk for a while in the 6:54 longest track “Goblin Fruit,” and a bit of lead guitar scorch bringing it all together on closer “All My Fault,” highlighting the theme of love that’s been playing out all the while. The sincerity behind that and everything Dali’s Llama does is palpable as ever in these 11 tracks, an more than 25 years on from their inception, they continue to deliver memorable songs in wholly unpretentious fashion. That’s just what they do.
Speedealer ride again! And just about at top speed, too. The Dallas, Texas, outfit were last heard from circa 2003, and their turnabout is marked with the self-release of Blue Days Black Nights, a fury-driven 10-tracker that takes the best of their heavy-rock-via-punk delivery and beefs up tones to suit another decade and a half’s worth of hard living and accumulated disaffection. The Dallas four-piece blaze through songs like “Never Knew,” the hardcore-punk “Losing My Shit,” the more metallic “Nothing Left to Say,” and the careening aggro-swagger of “Rheumatism,” but there’s still some variety to be had throughout, as highlight “Sold Out,” “War Nicht Genung” and “Shut Up” find the band no less effective working at a somewhat scaled-back pace. However fast they’re going, though the attitude remains much the same, and it’s “fuck you fuck this” fuckall all the way. Those familiar with their past work would expect no less, and time has clearly not repaired the chip on Speedealer‘s shoulder. Their anger is our gain.
Based in Nijmegen, the Netherlands, the instrumentalist four-piece Mt. Echo present a somewhat noisier take on Russian Circles-style heavy post-rock with their nine-song/46-minute debut, Cirrus. Not at all shy about incorporating a noise rock riff or a more weighted groove, the dual-guitar outfit nonetheless spend significant time patiently engaged in the work of atmosphere-building, so that their material develops a genuine ebb and flow as songs tie one into the next to give the entire affair a whole-album feel. It is their first outing, but all the more striking for that in terms of how much of a grip they seem to have on their approach and what they want to be doing in a song like “Lighthouse at the End of Time” with airy lead and chugging rhythm guitars intertwining and meeting head-on for post-YOB crashes and an eventual turn into a harder-pushing progression. Ambience comes (mostly) to the fore in the seven-minute “Monsters and the Men Who Made Them,” but wherever they go on Cirrus, Mt. Echo bring that atmospheric density along with them. The proverbial ‘band to watch.’
Over the course of five longform tracks on Ocean, Germany’s Monocluster build fluidly on the accomplishments of their 2015 self-titled debut (review here), greatly expanding on the heft and general reach of their sound while, as opener “Ocean in Our Bones” demonstrates, still holding onto the ability to affect a killer hook when they need one. Ocean is not a minor undertaking at 56 minutes, but it dedicates its time to constructing a world in cuts like “Leviathan” and “A Place Beyond,” the giant wall of fuzzed low end becoming the backdrop for the three-part story being told that ends with the 11:43 “Home” standing alone, as graceful and progressive as it is brash and noisy — a mirror in that regard to the nine-minute centerpiece “Guns and Greed” and a fitting summation of Ocean‘s course. They keep this up for very long and people are going to start to notice. The album is a marked step forward from where Monocluster were a few years ago, and sets up the expectation of continued growth their next time out while keeping a focus on the essential elements of songwriting as well. If we’re looking for highlights, I’d pick “Leviathan,” but honestly, it’s anyone’s game.
The third full-length from Argentine trio Picaporters marks another level of achievement for them as a band. XXIII arrives three years after El Horror Oculto (review here) and is unquestionably their broadest-cast spectrum to-date. The album comes bookended by eight-minute opener “La Soga de los Muertos” and “M.I.,” an 18-minute finale jam that would give a Deep Purple live record reason to blush. Soulful guitar stretches out over a vast rhythmic landscape, and all this after “Jinetes del Universo” motorpunks out and “Vencida” pulls together Floydian melo-prog, “Numero 5” precedes the closer with acoustic interplay and the early “Despertar” offers a little bit of everything and a lot of what-the-hell-just-happened. These guys started out on solid footing with their 2013 debut, Elefantes (review here), but neither that nor El Horror Oculto really hinted at the scope they’d make sound so natural throughout XXIII, which is the kind of record that leaves you no choice but to call it progressive.
As their moniker hints, there’s some edge of danger to Belgium’s Beaten by Hippies‘ self-titled debut (on Polderrecords), but the album ultimately resolves itself more toward songwriting and hooks in the spirit of a meaner-sounding Queens of the Stone Age in songs like “Space Tail” and “More is More,” finding common ground with the energy of Truckfighters though never quite delving so far into fuzzy tones. That’s not at all to the band’s detriment — rather, it helps the four-piece begin to cast their identity as they do in this material, whether that’s happening in the volatile sudden volume trades in “Dust” or the mission statement “Rock ‘n’ Roll,” which feels geared a bit to the anthemic but would probably work just as well in whatever pub they happen to be terrorizing on a given evening. Their delivery skirts the line between heavy and hard rock as only that vaguely commercially viable European-style can, but the songs are right there waiting to take the stage at whatever festival is this weekend and blow the roof — or the sky, I guess, if it’s outdoors — off the place.
Guitarist/vocalist Dave Angstrom may be best known in heavy rock circles for his work alongside John Garcia in Hermano, but in leading the four-piece Luna Sol through their 12-song/50-minute sophomore outing, Below the Deep (on Slush Fund Recordings), he proves a capable frontman as well as songwriter. Sharing vocal duties with bassist Shannon Fahnestock while David Burke handles guitar and Justin Baier drums, Angstrom is a steady presence at the fore through the well-constructed ’90s-flavored heavy rock of “Below the Deep” and “Along the Road” early, the later “Garden of the Gods” playing toward a more complex arrangement after the strutting “The Dying Conglomerate” paints a suitably grim State of the Union and ahead of the fuzz-rich ending in “Home,” which keeps its melodic purpose even as it crashes out to its languid finish. Whether it’s the charged “Man’s Worth Killin'” or the winding fuzz of “Mammoth Cave,” one can definitely hear some Hermano at work, but Luna Sol distinguish themselves just the same.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 14th, 2019 by JJ Koczan
So Torche have a new bassist in Eric Hernandez, who joins guitarist/vocalist Steve Brooks, guitarist Jon Nuñez (formerly bass) and drummer Rick Smith, for their fifth album, Admission. The record is due out July 12 on Relapse Records, and will be the follow-up to 2015’s Restarter (review here), which I really dug but seemed to catch internet-flack for being slower and not as maniacally upbeat as some of their past work. That’s something Nuñez seems to implicitly acknowledge below when he talks about the new lineup being more inspired and Hernandez being excited to be in the group. So it goes, I guess. I still thought that album was cool.
Torche of course have a bunch of tour dates to go with the release of Admission, and preorders are up and there’s the new single “Slide” playing below that you can dig into as well. So, uh, do that.
PR wire:
TORCHE: Announce New Album Admission Coming July 12; Share First Single “Slide”
Miami’s heavy rock quartet TORCHE release Admission, the band’s fifth album, and first new music since 2015’s critically-lauded Restarter, on July 12 via Relapse Records.
“This album is more revealing of who we are. I think the core of the band is happier and more inspired than we have been in some time, and we’ve got somebody new who’s excited to be a part of it. It’s just refreshing. It feels right. It feels real,” says guitar player Jon Nuñez, referencing the band’s new line-up which includes a shift from bass to guitar for Nuñez and the addition of bass player Eric Hernandez (Wrong). Steve Brooks (guitar/vocals) and Rick Smith (drummer) round-out the band.
“Slide,” a new song from the Nuñez produced album, is streaming now. “’Slide’ is one of the first songs Eric came to the table with, fully realized and arranged,” explains Smith. “Eric is a total beast of a songwriter. I suggested he use the first three Gary Numan records as inspiration and he came back at us with some melodically sound material that nailed the Torche vibe.”
The new song arrives as Torche announce their first wave of tour dates, including performances at this year’s Levitation, The Fest and Sled Island festivals. Tickets for all non-festival dates are on-sale this Friday at 10 am eastern.
Admission Tracklist: From Here Submission Slide What Was Times Missing Admission Reminder Extremes of Consciousness On The Wire Infierno Changes Come
The 11-song album is available in various formats (CD/LP/CS/Digital) with several highly-limited colored vinyl options on-sale now. The album artwork was created by Richard Vergez, a Cuban-American visual artist, who is known for his handmade collages that highlight the meeting of human and technological elements in our modern society. His work has been shown at No Romance Galleries (TriBeCa), Urban Arts Society (Chicago) and Kids of Dada (London).
TORCHE Tour Dates:
May 31 – Chicago, IL @ Chicago Doomed & Stoned Festival June 15 – Denver, CO @ Electric Funeral Fest IV June 19 – Calgary, AB @ Sled Island Festival July 26 – Tampa, FL @ The Crowbar July 27 – Jacksonville, FL @ The Justice Pub July 28 – Chapel Hill, NC @ Local 506 July 29 – Harrisonburg, VA @ Golden Pony July 31 – Washington, D.C. @ Black Cat August 1 – Philadelphia, PA @ Underground Arts August 2 – Brooklyn, NY @ Brooklyn Bazaar August 3 – Boston, MA @ Great Scott August 4 – Pawtucket, RI @ The Met August 5 – Hamden, CT @ Space Ballroom August 6 – Lancaster, PA @ Chameleon Club August 7 – Wilmington, NC @ Reggie’s 42nd Street Tavern August 8 – Atlanta, GA @ The Masquerade August 9 – Orlando, FL @ Henao Center August 10 – Miami, FL @ Las Rosa’s September 21 – Asheville, NC @ Heavy Mountain November 1 – Gainesville, FL @ FEST November 9 – Austin, TX @ Levitation
