The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.

Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.

Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.

The Obelisk Questionnaire: Neil Collins of Murcielago

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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

I play bass, which is the union of rhythm and melody in a rock band that acts as the foundation to the sound. I also the singer so I’m the de facto messenger I guess. Both those musical duties reflect what I do for the band outside of writing and performing as well. I do most of the band business and public facing stuff. I think every band has that one person who deals with all the extra-musical duties. That’s me in Murcielago.

Describe your first musical memory.

My father was a working jazz musician for his entire life, and I grew up going to his gigs from the time I was born. The first actual space in time I can remember was him playing at a dockside restaurant when I was three and having a seagull make off with my grilled cheese while I sat side stage watching him and his band play.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

There are many, many moments onstage that come to mind, but I think my favorite memory to date was just a run of the mill rehearsal soon after Ian Ross joined Murcielago, right after we recorded our first release and were preparing to play in the Boston Rock-N-Roll Rumble.. The sound in the space was that amazing air-moving low tremble, and everyone was playing their best and just grinning and grinning. You could feel the notes and beats like hits to the body.

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

My wife was diagnosed with cancer at a young age soon after our kid was born. I’m an athiest, but at the time she was getting treated I really wanted the comfort of faith. As much as I tried I just couldn’t believe in the construct of a christian higher power. I’m not sure this answer makes sense. She’s been cancer-free for a long time, and I thank science.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

I think it leads to self-awareness. It can lead to the power to reinvent yourself as well.

How do you define success?

Not having to worry about rehearsal space rent.

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

When I was 17, me and a friend dosed one weekend night. We were wandering around the town I grew up in tripping  and were the first people to discover a burning truck in the woods. Inside were three of our classmates. One was dead and on fire pinned in the cab.  I can still hear/smell it like I’m right there in my memory.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

I’d like to design and build a wood and cane lounge chair. My wife and I buy and sell Scandinavian mid-century furniture, and I’d like to try to make a design I’ve been sketching that owes a lot to the aesthetics of the Scandinavian masters.

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

It is to trigger emotion.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

My wife and I just signed a construction loan to build a house and barn. We’re building a farm compound so she can go big with Nigerian goat breeding. We have 6 pregnant goats right now on one acre. We’re building on 23 acres nearby. Hopefully we’ll be moving in at the end of the summer.

https://www.facebook.com/murcielagorock/
https://murcielagorock.bandcamp.com/

Murcielago, Casualties (2020)

It’s Thanksgiving here in the US as I write this post. The early morning thereof, to be more specific. There’s one voice break in this episode of The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal, and I cut it yesterday afternoon. I had just put The Pecan down for his afternoon nap and was in the process of getting dinner started (slow cooking) ahead of crashing out myself for about an hour.

The point of my telling you this? Maybe I wasn’t at my best.

Maybe I was a little harried, a little distracted, a little uh-oh-um. I did my best. I didn’t talk at all last time, so it seemed like a good idea at least to jump on and say thanks for listening and offer some setup for the second half of the show, which plays out in a succession of long, increasingly far-out cuts. But it’s not my best vocal work. Not gonna put it on my audition tape for KROQ.

Does KROQ still exist?

Anyway, I know it doesn’t matter, but still. Thank you for checking the show out if you do. For what it’s worth — plenty, to me — the playlist kicks ass.

If you tune in, I hope you enjoy. Thanks again.

The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at http://gimmemetal.com

Full playlist:

The Obelisk Show – 11.27.20

The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Dec. 11 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.

Gimme Metal website

The Obelisk on Thee Facebooks

The ongoing nature of the COVID-19 pandemic, the varied responses of publics and governments worldwide, and the disruption to lives and livelihoods has reached a scale that is unprecedented. Whatever the month or the month after or the future itself brings, more than one generation will bear the mark of having lived through this time, and art, artists, and those who provide the support system to help uphold them have all been affected.

In continuing the Days of Rona feature, it remains pivotal to give a varied human perspective on these events and these responses. It is important to remind ourselves that whether someone is devastated or untouched, sick or well, we are all thinking, feeling people with lives we want to live again, whatever renewed shape they might take from this point onward. We all have to embrace a new normal. What will that be and how will we get there?

Thanks to all who participate. To read all the Days of Rona coverage, click here. — JJ Koczan

Days of Rona: Neil Collins of Murcielago (Portland, Maine)

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How have you been you dealing with this crisis as a band? As an individual? What effect has it had on your plans or creative processes?

We in Murcielago have been completely dormant as we figure how to be a band in this new normal. We have a new record titled Casualties completed, and were originally looking at a mid-spring release. Now we are unsure when we will be able to get vinyl pressed, and whether it is worthwhile to self-release something with no gigs on the horizon to sell them at. The few shows we have booked are already postponed until who knows when [UPDATE: The CD has been pressed and will go on sale in September].

As an individual, I have been working straight through since early March. I run a boatyard as my day job and have 20 employees. It’s been a daily worry that by being open I might put one of my people in inadvertent contact with the virus. So far, all have been well. I’m pretty spent by the stress of it by the end of the day, so not much riff writing is happening. When I do get a chance to play I usually sit with an acoustic guitar in some open tuning. Maybe our next record will sound like Fairport Convention….

How do you feel about the public response to the outbreak where you are? From the government response to the people around you, what have you seen and heard from others?

The response from the state of Maine has been very proactive and measured in my opinion. I’ve been impressed with the state officials and their message to us Mainers. The general public seemed initially to embrace the guidelines fully, but as time has passed and the economic toll is being more widely felt many are pushing back and opening when not allowed etc. In my work I see customers who disregard all of our guidelines mandated by the state and I’ve needed to address the issue. It’s not a good position to be in. I do feel lucky to have been at work all through this, though.

What do you think of how the music community specifically has responded? How do you feel during this time? Are you inspired? Discouraged? Bored? Any and all of it?

I have watched many streaming events either by locals or national acts and really appreciate people putting those performances out there for us all. It is encouraging to see people staying on top of their craft while we wait for the what next.

I worry for all the great venues that may never open again after things get back to what we knew before, and what that will do for touring bands and small labels that support them. I feel both inspired and discouraged depending on what minute you ask me, I guess.

I really look forward to playing with the band again and feeling the walls shake. I always do my best writing with us all in the room together. It’s been a huge part of my life for a very long time.

What is the one thing you want people to know about your situation, either as a band, or personally, or anything? What is your new normal? What have you learned from this experience, about yourself, your band, or anything?

On a personal level I feel so grateful for my family and our home, our life in Maine and my close friendship with the other guys in the band. I’ve had many opportunities to appreciate the simple things that pass unnoticed in less trying times. As a band, we look forward to regrouping and making the air move again. We are rearranging our rehearsal space to allow for proper distancing so we can get back to playing again. I could really use that.

https://www.facebook.com/murcielagorock/
https://murcielagorock.bandcamp.com/

Fare thee well to Portland, Maine, heavy rockers Murcielago, who will wrap seven years together this weekend with a hometown show at Portland House of Music and Events. The dual-guitar four-piece, which happens to feature Ian Ross of Roadsaw on guitar alongside guitarist Matthew Robbins, bassist/vocalist Neil Collins and drummer Brian Chaloux, issued their self-titled debut in 2014 and have been playing local shows in New England for the last half-decade or more. Their disbanding — hiatus? breakup?; one word is as good as the other — comes with the caveat that they might decide to get back together at some point and jam again, and honestly I doubt anyone would hold it against them if they did just that.

After sharing the stage recently with the recently-reactivated Scissorfight, they’ll close out their tenure alongside Eldemur Krimm and Pigboat this Saturday, Aug. 6, at the aforementioned venue. Their announcement and the info for the show follows here, as well as the stream of the self-titled for anyone who’d like to hear what they missed:

Murcielago (Last Show!) with Eldemur Krimm and Pigboat

Aug 6 at 9 PM

Portland House of Music and Events
25 Temple St, Portland, Maine 04101

We’ve decided to take a long bow after an excellent 7 year run. Thank You all who have come to our shows, bought our music and merchandise, and told your friends. We are grateful and humbled.

Many thanks to Nick Lamberto for getting us going, huge thanks to Benny Grotto and Mad Oak Studios for excellent work. Many thanks to the bands and promoters we’ve been lucky enough to work with during our time.

Come say goodnight to Murcielago as we send ourselves off with great friends Eldemur Krimm and Pigboat. We THANK YOU dearly for the years of support.

Neil Collins- bass, vocals
Ian Ross- guitar (right channel)
Matthew Robbins- guitar (left channel)
Brian Chaloux- drums

https://www.facebook.com/events/170782973337804/
https://www.facebook.com/murcielagorock/
https://murcielagorock.bandcamp.com/

Murcielago, Murcielago (2014)

Click Here to Download

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Tomorrow here in the US it is Thanksgiving, which has some questionable origins but in practice is actually one of our less-abominable holidays, with a focus on togetherness, good food, and enjoying the company of loved ones. Today, the day before, is traditionally the busiest travel day of the year while people get to wherever they’re going. Even if you don’t manage to find it until after the holiday is over, it seemed only fitting to make a new podcast so that anyone who might want to take it along for the ride would be able to do so.

My head has started to get into year-end wrap-up mode, so don’t be surprised if one or two or three of these bands show up in subsequent “Best Of” coverage. Maybe even four, looking at the list. It’s been a crazy good year, and as it starts to wind its way down and we make our way into the next one, I hope you’ve enjoyed listening to these podcasts and hopefully discovered something you wouldn’t have heard otherwise. That’s really the whole idea.

If you’re traveling by road, rail, or air, I wish you a pleasant journey, and even if you’re staying put, the same applies.

First Hour:
Stubb, “Heavy Blue Sky” from Cry of the Ocean
Murcielago, “Way too Far” from Murcielago
Dune, “Of Blade and Carapace” from Aurora Majesty
The Skull, “Send Judas Down” from For Those Which are Asleep
Elephant Tree, “Attack of the Altaica” from Theia
Renate/Cordate, “Laudanum” from Growth
Mothership, “Serpents Throne” from Mothership II
Space Guerrilla, “Event Horizon” from Boundless
Monster Magnet, “End of Time (B-3)” from Milking the Stars
Memnon Sa, “Megalith” from Citadel

Second Hour:
Soldat Hans, “Meine Liebste; Sie Zerbricht Sich” from Dress Rehearsal
Atavismo, “Meeh” from Desintegración
Øresund Space Collective, “Remnants of the Barbonaeum” from Music for Pogonologists

Total running time: 1:53:26

Thank you for listening.

Download audiObelisk Transmission 042

Listening to Murcielago‘s self-titled, self-released debut, it’s not a huge surprise that some of it comes across sounding akin to Boston heavy rock headliners Roadsaw. There are commonalities superficial and otherwise. First of all, their lineup boasts guitarist Ian Ross, who also plays in Roadsaw. The album was recorded by Benny Grotto, who has also helmed outings for Roadsaw, at Mad Oak Studios in Allston, Massachusetts, which is owned by Roadsaw vocalist Craig Riggs. Riggs also makes a guest appearance on the boogie-fied penultimate cut, “Zora,” backing up bassist Neil Collins, who works in a somewhat likeminded style vocally at points throughout as well. And aside from the consistency of Ross‘ guitar tone and being demographically similar — at least the three-quarters of the band that’s not Ross; that part is demographically the same — the two acts share a core approach based around giving modern heavy interpretation to classic methods. As I understand it, Ross joined Murcielago after they had already been together for some time with Collins, guitarist/backing vocalist Matthew Robbins, who also sings lead on “Fairlane Swain” and took the photo on the cover, and drummer Brian Chaloux, so I don’t know where they were in terms of writing this material when he came aboard, but his tone, even in combination with Robbins‘, is recognizable. Murcielago distinguish themselves through what they do with their riff-led heavy grooves, and in the subtly brooding personality that emerges on cuts like opener “Bulldozers,” which leads off the 10-song/43-minute offering nestling quickly into a steady rolling groove that proves to be a specialty of Murcielago as the album progresses. Ultimately, if they prove anything across Murcielago‘s span, it’s that they know what they want sound-wise and they know how to make it a reality, which is more than a lot of “first albums” can offer.

If you’re a fan of unpretentious American heavy, Small Stone-style rock, there’s going to be little here with which to find argument. “Bulldozers” and “Money,” both right around six minutes, show off the fullness of sound Murcielago can harness when they so choose and the swing that they can bring to a rhythm, Collins giving away some punk roots in the chorus of the latter, which hits hard after a start-stop verse. Unsurprisingly for a two-guitar four-piece, there’s a good bit of soloing to be had, and Ross and Robbins trade off readily — the former in the right channel, the latter in the left — adding salt to “Money,” which but for “Fairlane Swain” is the longest track here at 6:01. “Cheebahawk,” which follows, is shorter and faster both, but not so far removed in spirit, its straightforward push, crisp cymbal sound and Collins‘ vocal command guiding from a riff-heavy beginning into a quick, semi-twanging midsection that presages some of what’s to come on “Smoke Season” before returning to the thick-toned riffs and a one-into-the-next solo from Robbins and Ross, leading to the last verse and chorus. When it arrives, “Smoke Season” is the first of three shorter pieces. It and the later “Like Bricks,” which provides a split between highlights “Way too Far” and “Fairlane Swain,” are interludes, and the backwards-cymbal-forwards-guitar “The Last Line” is the album’s outro after “Zora.” They get progressively longer until the last one, but the difference is “Smoke Season” is acoustic — Collins and Robbins working together on guitar — and it’s probably the most classic rock stretch of Murcielago, which is fitting since it kicks off a strong middle-third and comes before the fuzzed out “Don’t Do Nothin’,” Collins channeling his inner Riggs with just the right riff to do so over. One of the record’s most resonant hooks, “Don’t Do Nothing” gives way to the no-frills stomp-and-run of “Way too Far,” and the two make for an excellent pair, showing off some of Murcielago at their best.

That said, Murcielago is also a record that becomes a richer listen as it goes on. If one looks at the tracklist as divisible into three sections, “Bulldozers,” “Money” and “Cheebahawk” make for a solid lead-in, “Smoke Season,” “Don’t Do Nothin’,” and the mega-catchy “Way too Far” push further into quality songwriting and begin to expand the instrumental scope, and with “Like Bricks” as an intro, “Fairlane Swain,” “Zora” and “The Last Line” show that they’re not afraid to shake up their own approach, whether it’s with Chaloux‘s backwards cymbals on the outro, bringing in Riggs on “Zora” — which seems to be about a two-year sailing trip undertaken by Collins from 2004 to 2006 — or Robbins taking lead vocal charge on “Fairlane Swain.” At 7:44, the latter strikes a balance between instrumental progression and a foundational hook revolving around the lines, “Heavy metal parking lot/Just a dimebag of shit pot…” describing scenes taken from what seems to be personal reference — a photo of a 1966 Ford Fairlane provided by and presumably featuring one Steve Swain flipping off the camera is included in one of the inside panels of the six-panel digipak — atop a riff that’s just about universal before delivering the title line with underclassman’s reverence to a classic image of cool. Or is it contempt? Either way, the album’s instrumental payoff follows, built from the ground up and boasting highlight guitar work from both Robbins and Ross, and “Zora” gives a Dozer-worthy last kick in the ass before the quiet psych-bluesy “The Last Line” caps off a record that doesn’t seem to want to end. Fair enough, but by the time it gets there, Murcielago‘s Murcielago can’t be accused of leaving something unsaid. Rather, the foursome’s debut delivers a complete-album feel and a vibe that develops as it unfolds and helps greatly to individualize the band. Whatever, and whoever, they may share, Murcielago leave their first long-player behind them having given the listener a sense of who they are musically and what they want to accomplish here and going forward stylistically. They’re not green as musicians and they don’t sound like it, but the self-titled neither lacks pulse nor wants anything for songwriting.

Murcielago, “Way too Far”

Murcielago on Thee Facebooks

Murcielago on Bandcamp

Murcielago at Bull Moose Records

I kept a steady pace rolling up the Maine Turnpike (aka I-95 but they charge you for it; I’d bitch, but NJ does the same thing), not looking to get pulled over both because it would involve talking to cops and because my car’s not registered, but with the sunset on my left, the rising supermoon on my right and big, old growth pines on both sides of the road, it would’ve been hard to complain had anyone been around to listen. Last time I was in Portland, it was also for a show at Geno’s Rock Club — Ogre‘s CD release, back in March (review here) — and though I had a hard time picking out familiar landmarks without a foot of snow on the ground, I eventually found my way to the same spot for the third of We’re all Gonna Die‘s three Summer 2014 reunion shows, with locals Murcielago rounding out the bill and support from MA’s Tigerman Woah and Maple Forum alum Blackwolfgoat.

The latter opened, going on around 9:30, with Darryl Shepard (Milligram, The Scimitar, etc.) starting out his Blackwolfgoat set with some new material from the forthcoming Small Stone release, Drone Maintenance. It’s his third LP under the Blackwolfgoat moniker — The Obelisk’s in-house label released the first CD pressing of the second one, Dronolith — and the most accomplished, Shepard beginning to veer toward a songwriting impulse to match the project’s progressive drone soundscaping. I was pleased to hear Dronolith opener “Building Buildings” in the mix, distinct for its layers of rhythm and melody, and it made an interesting lead-in for “Cyclopean Utopia,” the only Blackwolfgoat song to-date with vocals, for which Shepard got on mic and let loose a succession of ambient screams.

His time cut somewhat short when the strap on his guitar broke, but I guess part of the fun of having an outfit like Blackwolfgoat is that when something like that happens, you can roll with it. Still screaming over his loops and feedback, Shepard strummed the guitar a few times with his shoe before kneeling down to twiddle knobs on his pedal board. That wash of feedback continued even as he began to pack up his gear, but eventually the amp got shut off. “Cyclopean Utopia” was about half-done, but that strap was all-the-way done, and that seemed to win out. It was about as disparate a lead-in for Tigerman Woah as one could ask, the Lynn, Massachusetts, four-piece offering standup bass, banjo ukulele and rockabilly-ish revelry of a much more riotous and beery sort.

I live on the South Shore of Massachusetts, under Boston. On the other side of the city is the North Shore. I haven’t been up there much in the year that I’ve lived in the state, so I can’t necessarily speak to the geography of the place, but what I’ve seen has been way more Upper-Middle-Class-mall and way less a setting befitting the Appalachian mountain punk that Tigerman Woah proffered, but I’ll give it to those dudes for both selling it well and every now and again going on a tear of gang vocals and guitar solos that were likewise duly infectious. Plus who knows what lurks in those old foothills. They weren’t really my thing — and they were definitely the odd band out on the bill — but Tigerman Woah kept me glued to my spot on the floor at Geno’s with their twanging party vibe, gravely vocals and enviable beards.

After two prior shows, in Boston and Manchester, New Hampshire, it wasn’t such a surprise to find We’re all Gonna Die pushing through their set with workmanlike fluidity, but what stuck out to me most from watching them for the first time in I don’t know how many years was how dead-on they came across. Sometimes when a group plays for the first time in a while — I think in the Boston trio’s case, it’s been five years — they’re both rusty and overexcited. Material gets rushed. For guitarist/vocalist Jim Healey, bassist Jesse Sherman and drummer Scott Healey, it was more like seeing a band who’d been doing shows all year. They were plainly glad to be there, but they played like pros. The slow parts stayed slow, the fast parts were crisp in their pummel, and Healey‘s voice — a powerful instrument, forcefully wielded — was on point throughout and one could only stand in awe as solo after solo was thoroughly nailed. Something in me doubts this will be their last show.

Rounding out the night, Murcielago would keep that theme going, as the highlight of their set was a sudden turn that had guitarists Matt Robbins and Ian Ross (see also: Roadsaw) duking it out “Dueling Banjos”-style as they went back and forth, solo for solo. It was my first time seeing the band and they’ve only released a couple recorded tracks as downloads, so the bulk of their material was new to me, but came across steady in riff-heavy form, bassist/vocalist Neil Collins handling most of the singing with Robbins backing while drummer Brian Chaloux held it down smooth behind. Even during the aforementioned solo tradeoffs — which got a laugh as well at one point when Robbins flipped Ross off following a particularly impressive showing — Collins and Chaloux kept a central groove going as a bed, and Murcielago not only returned to that song’s chorus, but finished their set with another cut after.

That was about one in the morning, and I had two and a half hours of road time ahead, so I made my way out of Geno’s on the quick and back down the still unfamiliar Congress St. to my car, the Maine Turnpike lit blue by the near-full moon and save for a few swerving cars, empty with the well-worn evening.

A couple more pics after the jump. Thanks for reading.

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