So here we are. A fascinating and varied trip this has been, and while I’m tempted to find some greater meaning in it as regards the ongoing evolution of genre(s) in heavy underground music, the truth is that the overarching message is really that it’s impossible to keep up with that complexity as it unfolds. Hitting 70 releases on this last day with another 50 to come in a couple weeks, I feel like there’s just so much out there right now, and that that is the primary signifier of the current era.

Whether it’s pandemic-born projects or redirects, or long-established artists making welcome returns, or who knows what from who knows where, the world is brimming with creativity and is pushing the bounds of heavy with like-proportioned force and intent. This hasn’t always been easy to write, but as I look at the lineup below of the final-for-now installment of the QR, I’m just happy to be alive. Thanks for reading. I hope you have also found something that resonates.

Quarterly Review #61-70:

Dommengang, Wished Eye

A fourth full-length from Dommengang — are they in L.A. now? Portland, Oregon? does it matter? — neatly encapsulates the heavy psychedelic scope and the organic-vibing reach that stands them out from the pack, as somehow throughout the nine songs of Wished Eye, the Thrill Jockey denizen trio are able to inhabit a style that’s the Americana pastoral wakeup of “Runaway,” the hill-howling “Society Blues,” the drift-fuzz of over solid drums of “Last Card,” the dense tube-burning Hendrixism of “Myth Time,” and the minimalist guitar of “Little Beirut.” And oh, it keeps going; each track contributing something to the lush-but-natural spirit of the whole work. “Blue & Peaceful” brings acoustics to its midsection jam, while “Petrichor” is the West Coast freedom rock you’ve been waiting for, the title-track goes inland for nighttime desertscaping that finishes in hypnotic loops on a likewise hypnotic fade, and “Flower” proves to be more vine, winding its way around the lead guitar line as the vocals leave off with a highlight performance prior a fire-blues solo that finishes the record as the amps continue to scream. Undervalued? Why yes, Dommengang are, and Wished Eye makes the argument in plain language. With a sonic persona able to draw from country, blues, psych, indie, doom, fuzz, on and on, they’ve never sounded so untethered to genre, and it wasn’t exactly holding them back in the first place.

Dommengang on Facebook

Thrill Jockey website

—

 

Ryan Kent, Dying Comes With Age

Formerly the frontman of Richmond, Virginia, sludgers Gritter, Ryan Kent — who already has several books of poetry on his CV — casts himself through Dying Comes With Age as a kind of spoken word ringmaster, and he’s brought plenty of friends along to help the cause. The readings in the title-track, “Son of a Bitch” and the title-track and “Couch Time” are semi-spoken, semi-sung, and the likes of Laura Pleasants (The Discussion, ex-Kylesa) lends backing vocals to the former while Jimmy Bower (Down, EyeHateGod) complements with a low-key fuzzy bounce. I’ll admit to hoping the version of “My Blue Heaven” featuring Windhand‘s Dorthia Cottrell was a take on the standard, but it’s plenty sad regardless and her voice stands alone as though Kent realized it was best to just give her the space and let it be its own thing on the record. Mike IX Williams of EyeHateGod is also on his own (without music behind) to close out with the brief “Cigarettes Roll Away the Time,” and Eugene S. Robinson of Oxbow/Buñuel recounting an homage apparently to Kent‘s grandfather highlights the numb feeling of so many during the pandemic era. Some light misogyny there and in “Message From Someone Going Somewhere With Someone Else Who is Going Somewhere” feels almost performative, pursuing some literary concept of edge, but the aural collage and per-song atmosphere assure Dying Comes With Age never lingers anywhere too long, and you can smell the cigarettes just by listening, so be ready with the Febreze.

Ryan Kent on Bandcamp

Rare Bird Books website

—

 

1782, Clamor Luciferi

The first hook on Clamor Luciferi, in post-intro leadoff “Succubus,” informs that “Your god is poison” amid a gravitationally significant wall of low-end buzzfuzz, so one would call it business as usual for Sardinian lurch-doomers 1782, who answer 2021’s From the Graveyard (review here) with another potent collection of horror-infused live resin audibles. Running eight songs and 39-minutes, one would still say the trio are in the post-Monolord camp in terms of riffs and grooves, but they’ve grown more obscure in sound over time, and the murk in so much of Clamor Luciferi is all the more palpable for the way in which the guitar solo late in “Devil’s Blood” cuts through it with such clarity. Immediacy suits them on “River of Sins” just before, but one would hardly fault “Black Rites” or the buried-the-vocals-even-deeper closer “Death Ceremony” for taking their time considering that’s kind of the point. Well, that and the tones and grit of “Demons,” anyhow. Three records in, 1782 continue and odd-year release pattern and showcase the individual take on familiar cultism and lumber that’s made their work to-date a joy to follow despite its sundry outward miseries. Clamor Luciferi keeps the thread going, which is a compliment in their case.

1782 on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

—

 

Seum, Double Double

What Seum might be seen to lack in guitar, they more than make up in disgust. The Montreal trio — vocalist Gaspard, bassist Piotr, drummer Fred — offer a mostly-hateful 32-minute low-end mudslide on their second album, Double Double, the disaffection leaking like an oily discharge from the speakers in “Torpedo” and “Snow Bird” even before “Dog Days” lyrically takes on the heavy underground and “Dollarama” sees the emptiness in being surrounded by bullshit. For as caustic as it largely is, “Torpedo” dares a bit of dirt-caked melody in the vocals — also a backing layer in the somehow-catchy “Razorblade Rainbow” and the closing title-track has a cleaner shout — and the bass veers into funkier grooves at will, as on “Dog Days,” the winding second half of “Snow Bird,” where the bassline bookending the six-minute “Seum Noir” reminds a bit of Suplecs‘ “White Devil” in its fuzz and feels appropriate in that. Shades of Bongzilla persist, as they will with a scream like that, but like their impressive 2021 debut, Winterized (review here), Seum are able to make the big tones move when they need to, to the point that “Dollarama” brings to memory the glory days of Dopefight‘s over-the-top assault. Righteous and filthy.

Seum on Facebook

Electric Spark Records website

—

 

Old Mine Universe, This Vast Array

Clearheaded desert-style heavy rock is the thread running through Old Mine Universe‘s debut album, This Vast Array, but with a bit of blues in “No Man’s Mesa” after the proggy flourish of guitar in “Gates of the Red Planet” and the grander, keyboardy unfolding of “My Shadow Devours” and the eight-minute, multi-movement, ends-with-cello finale “Cold Stream Guards,” it becomes clear the Canadian/Brazilian/Chilean five-piece aren’t necessarily looking to limit themselves on their first release. Marked by a strong performance from vocalist Chris Pew — whom others have likened to Ian Astbury and Glenn Danzig; I might add a likeness to some of Jim Healey‘s belting-it-out there as well, if not necessarily an influence — the songs are traditionally structured but move into a jammier feel on the loose “The Duster” and add studio details like the piano line in the second half of “Sixes and Sirens” that showcase depth as well as a solid foundation. At 10 songs/47 minutes, it’s not a minor undertaking for a band’s first record, but if you’re willing to be led the tracks are willing to lead, and with Pew‘s voice to the guitar and bass of David E. and Todd McDaniel in Toronto, the solos from Erickson Silva in Brazil and Sol Batera‘s drums in Chile, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the tracks take you different places.

Old Mine Universe on Facebook

Witch City Music on Facebook

—

 

Saint Karloff, Paleolithic War Crimes

Although Olso-based riffers Saint Karloff have tasked Nico Munkvold (also Jointhugger) for gigs, the band’s third album, Paleolithic War Crimes, was recorded with just the duo of guitarist/vocalist Mads Melvold (also keys and bass here) and drummer Adam Suleiman, and made in homage to original bassist Ole Sletner, who passed away in 2021. It is duly dug-in, from the lumbering Sabbath-worship repetitions of “Psychedelic Man” through the deeper purple organ boogieprog of “Blood Meridian” and quiet guitar/percussion interlude “Among Stone Columns” into “Bone Cave Escape” tilting the balance from doom to rock with a steady snare giving way to an Iommi-circa-’75 acoustic-and-keys finish to side A, leaving side B to split the longer “Nothing to Come” (7:01), which ties together elements of “Bone Cave Escape” and “Blood Meridian,” and closer “Supralux Voyager” (8:26) with the brash, uptempo “Death Don’t Have No Mercy,” which — I almost hate to say it — is a highlight, though the finale in “Supralux Voyager” isn’t to be ignored for what it adds to the band’s aesthetic in its patience and more progressive style, the steadiness of the build and a payoff that could’ve been a blowout but doesn’t need to be and so isn’t all the more resonant for that restraint. If Munkvold actually joins the band or they find someone else to complete the trio, whatever comes after this will inherently be different, but Saint Karloff go beyond 2019’s Interstellar Voodoo (review here) in ambition and realization with these seven tracks — yes, the interlude too; that’s important — and one hopes they continue to bring these lessons forward.

Saint Karloff on Facebook

Majestic Mountain Records store

—

 

Astral Sleep, We Are Already Living in the End of Times

Feels like a gimme to say that a record called We Are Already Living in the End of Times is bleak, but if I note the despair laced into the extremity of songs like “The Legacies” or “Torment in Existence,” it’s in no small part to convey the fluidity with which Finland’s Astral Sleep offset their guttural death-doom, be it with melancholic folk-doom melody as on the opening title-track, or the sweetly weaving guitar lines leading into the bright-hued finish of “Invisible Flesh.” Across its 46 minutes, Astral Sleep‘s fourth LP picks up from 2020’s Astral Doom Musick (review here) and makes otherwise disparate sounds transition organically, soaring and crashing down with emotive and tonal impact on the penultimate “Time Is” before “Status of the Soul” answers back to the leadoff with nine-plus minutes of breadth and churn. These aren’t contradictions coming from Astral Sleep, and while yes, the abiding spirit of the release is doomed, that isn’t a constraint on Astral Sleep in needing to be overly performative or ‘dark’ for its own sake. There’s a dynamic at work here as the band seem to make each song an altar and the delivery itself an act of reverence.

Astral Sleep on Facebook

Astral Sleep on Bandcamp

—

 

Devoidov, Amputation

The second single in two months from New Jersey sludge slayers Devoidov, “Amputation” backs the also-knife-themed “Stab” and brings four minutes of heavy cacophonous intensity that’s as much death metal as post-hardcore early on, and refuses to give up its doomed procession despite all the harshness surrounding. It’s not chaotic. It’s not without purpose. That mute right around 2:40, the way the bass picks up from there and the guitar comes back in, the hi-hat, that build-up into the tremolo sprint and kick-drum jabs that back the crescendo stretch stand as analogue for the structure underlying, and then like out of nowhere they toss in a ripper thrash solo at the end, in the last 15 seconds, as if to emphasize the ‘fuck everything’ they’ve layered over top. There’s punk at its root, but “Amputation” derives atmosphere from its rage as well as the spaciousness of its sound, and the violence of losing a part of oneself is not ignored. They’re making no secret of turning burn-it-all-down into a stylistic statement, and that’s part of the statement too, leaving one to wonder whether the sludge or grind will win in their songwriting over the longer term and if it needs to be a choice between one or the other at all.

Devoidov on Instagram

Devoidov on Bandcamp

—

 

Wolfnaut, Return of the Asteroid

Norwegian fuzz rollers Wolfnaut claim a lineage that goes back to 1997 (their debut was released in 2013 under their old moniker Wolfgang; it happens), so seems reasonable that their fourth full-length, Return of the Asteroid, should be so imbued with the characteristics of turn-of-the-century Scandinavian heavy. They might be at their most Dozerian on “Crash Yer Asteroid” or “Something More Than Night” as they meet careening riffs with vital, energetic groove, but the mellower opening with “Brother of the Badlands” gives a modern edge and as they unfurl the longer closing pair “Crates of Doom” (7:14) and “Wolfnaut’s Lament” (10:13) — the latter a full linear build that completes the record with reach and crunch alike, they are strident in their execution so as to bring individual presence amid all that thick tone crashing around early and the takeoff-and-run that happens around six minutes in. Hooky in “My Orbit is Mine” and willfully subdued in “Arrows” with the raucous “G.T.R.” following directly, Wolfnaut know what they’re doing and Return of the Asteroid benefits from that expertise in its craft, confidence, and the variety they work into the material. Not life-changing, but quality songwriting is always welcome.

Wolfnaut on Facebook

Ripple Music website

—

 

Fuzz Voyage, Heavy Compass Demo

If you’re gonna go, take a compass. And if your compass can be made of primo fuzz riffing, isn’t it that much more useful? If not as an actual compass? Each of the four cuts on Washington D.C. instrumentalists Fuzz Voyage‘s Heavy Compass Demo coincides with a cardinal direction, so you get “South Side Moss,” “North Star,” “East Wind” and “West Ice Mountain.” These same four tracks featured across two separate ‘sessions’-type demos in 2020, so they’ve been fairly worked on, but one can’t discount the presentation here that lets “East Wind” breathe a bit in its early going after the crunching stop of “North Star,” just an edge of heavy psychedelia having featured in the northerly piece getting fleshed out as it heads east. I might extend the perception of self-awareness on the part of the band to speculating “South Side Moss” was named for its hairy guitar and bass tone — if not, it could’ve been — and after “East Wind” stretches near seven minutes, “West Ice Mountain” closes out with a rush and instrumental hook that’s a more uptempo look than they’ve given to that point in the proceedings. Nothing to argue with unless you’re morally opposed to bands who don’t have singers — in which case, your loss — but one doesn’t get a lot of outright fuzz from the Doom Capitol, and Fuzz Voyage offer some of the densest distortion I’ve heard out of the Potomac since Borracho got their start. Even before you get to the concept or the art or whatever else, that makes them worth keeping an eye out for what they do next.

Fuzz Voyage on Instagram

Fuzz Voyage on Bandcamp

—

 

Oh hi, I’m pretending I didn’t see you there. Today the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review hits and — if Apollo is willing — passes the halfway point en route to 70 total records to be covered by the end of next Tuesday. Then there’s another 50 at least to come next month, so I don’t know what ‘quarter’ that’s gonna be but I don’t really have another name for this kind of roundup just sitting in my back pocket, so if we have to fudge one or expand Spring in such a way, I sincerely doubt anyone but me actually cares that it’s a little weird this time through. And I’m not even sure I care, to be honest. Surely “notice” would be a better word.

Either way, thanks for reading. Hope you’ve found something cool thus far and hope you find more today. Let’s roll.

Quarterly Review #31-40:

Rotor, Sieben

Seven full-lengths and a quarter-century later, it’s nigh on impossible to argue with Berlin instrumentalists Rotor. Sieben — or simply 7, depending on where you look — is their latest offering, and in addition to embracing heavy psychedelia with enough tonal warmth on “Aller Tage Abend” to remind that they’re contemporaries to Colour Haze, the seven-song/38-minute LP has room for the jazzy classic prog flashes of “Mäander” later on and the more straight-ahead fuzzy crunch of “Reibach,” which opens, and the contrast offered by the acoustic guitar and friendly roll that emerges on the closing title-track. Dug into the groove and Euro-size XXL (that’s XL to Americans) riffing of “Kahlschlag,” there’s never a doubt that it’s Rotor you’re hearing, and the same is true of “Aller Tage Abend,” the easy-nodding second half and desert-style chop of “Schabracke,” and everything else; the simple fact is that Rotor these 25 years on can be and in fact are all of these things and more besides while also being a band who have absolutely nothing to prove. Sieben celebrates their progression, the riffs at their roots, the old and new in their makeup and the mastery with which they’ve made the notion of ‘instrumental heavy rock’ so much their own. It’s a lesson gladly learned again, and 2023 is a better year with Sieben in it.

Rotor on Facebook

Noisolution website

—

 

Seer of the Void, Mantra Monolith

Athens-based sludge-and-then-some rockers Seer of the Void follow their successful 2020 debut, Revenant, with the more expansive Mantra Monolith, enacting growth on multiple levels, be it the production and general largesse of their sound, the songs becoming a bit longer (on average) or the ability to shift tempos smoothly between “Electric Father” and “Death is My Name” without giving up either momentum or the attitude as emphasized in the gritty vocals of bassist Greg “Maddog” Konstantaras. Side B’s “Demon’s Hand” offers a standout moment of greater intensity, but Seer of the Void are hardly staid elsewhere, whether it’s the swinging verse of “Hex” that emerges from the massive intro, or the punkish vibe underscoring the nonetheless-metal head-down chug in the eponymous “Seer of the Void.” They cap with a clearheaded fuzzy solo in “Necromancer,” seeming to answer the earlier “Seventh Son,” and thereby highlight the diversity manifest from their evolution in progress, but if one enjoyed the rougher shoves of Revenant (or didn’t; prior experience isn’t a barrier to entry), there remains plenty of that kind of tonal and rhythmic physicality in Mantra Monolith.

Seer of the Void on Facebook

Venerate Industries on Bandcamp

—

 

Moodoom, Desde el Bosque

Organic roots doom from the trio Moodoom — guitarist/vocalist Cristian Marchesi, bassist/vocalist Jonathan Callejas and drummer Javier Cervetti — captured en vivo in the band’s native Buenos Aires, Desde el Bosque is the trio’s second LP and is comprised of five gorgeous tracks of Sabbath-worshiping heavy blues boogie, marked by standout performances from Marchesi and Callejas often together on vocals, and the sleek Iommic riffing that accounts as well for the solos layered across channels in the penultimate “Nadie Bajará,” which is just three minutes long but speaks volumes on what the band are all about, which is keep-it-casual mellow-mover heavy, the six-minute titular opening/longest track (immediate points) swaggering to its own swing as meted out by Cervetti with a proto-doomly slowdown right in the middle before the lightly-funked solo comes in, and the finale “Las Maravillas de Estar Loco” (‘the wonders of being crazy,’ in English) rides the line between heavy rock and doom with no less grace, introducing a line of organ or maybe guitar effects along with the flawless groove proffered by Callejas and Cervetti. It’s only 23 minutes long, but definitely an album, and exactly the way a classic-style power trio is supposed to work. Gorgeously done, and near-infinite in its listenability.

Moodoom on Facebook

Moodoom on Bandcamp

—

 

Altered States, Survival

The second release and debut full-length from New Jersey-based trio Altered States runs seven tracks and 34 minutes and finds individualism in running a thread through influences from doom and heavy rock, elder hardcore and metal, resulting in the synth-laced stylistic intangibility of “A Murder of Crows” on side A and the smoothly-delivered proportion of riff in the eponymous “Altered States” later on, bassist Zack Kurland (Green Dragon, ex-Sweet Diesel, etc.) taking over lead vocals in the verse to let guitarist/synthesist Ryan Lipynsky (Unearthly Trance, Serpentine Path, The Howling Wind, etc.) take the chorus, while drummer Chris Daly (Texas is the Reason, Resurrection, 108, etc.) punctuates the urgency in opener “The Crossing” and reinforces the nod of “Cerberus.” There’s an exploration of dynamic underway on multiple levels throughout, whether it’s the guitar and keys each feeling out their space in the mix, or the guitar and bass, vocal arrangements, and so on, but with the atmospheric centerpiece “Hurt” — plus that fuzz right around the 2:30 mark before the build around the album’s title line — just two songs past the Motörheaded “Mycelium,” it’s clear that however in-development their sound may be, Altered States already want for nothing as regards reaching out from their doom rocking center, which is that much richer with multiple songwriters behind it.

Altered States on Facebook

Altered States on Bandcamp

—

 

Giöbia, Acid Disorder

Opener and longest track (immediate points) “Queen of Wands” is so hypnotic you almost don’t expect its seven minutes to end, but of course they do, and Italian strange-psych whatevernauts Giöbia proceed from there to float guitar over and vocals over the crunched-down “The Sweetest Nightmare” before the breadth of “Consciousness Equals Energy” and “Screaming Souls” melds outer-rim-of-the-galaxy space prog with persistently-tripped Europsych lushness, heavy in its underpinnings but largely unrestrained by gravity or concerns for genre. Acid Disorder is the maybe-fifth long-player from the Italian cosmic rocking aural outsiders, and their willingness to dive into the unknown is writ large through the synth and organ layers and prominent strum of “Blood is Gone,” the mix itself becoming no less an instrument in the band’s collective hand than the guitar, bass, drums, vocals, etc. Ultra-fluid throughout (duh), the eight-songer tops out around 44 minutes and is an adventure for the duration, the drift of side B’s instrumental “Circo Galattico” reveling in experimentalism over a somehow-solidified rhythm while “In Line” complements in answer to “The Sweetest Nightmare” picking up from “Queen of Wands” at the outset, leaving the closing title-track on its own, which seems to fit its synth-and-sitar-laced serenity just fine. Band sounds like everything and nobody but themselves, reliably.

Giöbia on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

—

 

Astral Hand, Lords of Data

Like everything, Milwaukee heavy psychedelia purveyors Astral Hand were born out of destruction. In this case, it’s the four-piece’s former outfit Calliope that went nova, resulting in the recycling of cosmic gasses and gravitational ignition wrought in the debut album Lords of Data‘s eight songs, the re-ish-born new band benefitting from the experience of the old as evidenced by the patient unfolding of side A capper “Psychedelicide,” the defining hook in “Universe Machine” and the shove-then-drone-then-shove in “End of Man” and the immersive heft in opener “Not Alone” that brings the listener deep into the nod from the very start of the first organ notes so that by the time they’ve gone as far out as the open spaces of “Navigator” and the concluding “God Emperor,” their emergent command of the ethereal is unquestionable. They work a little shuffle into that finale, which is an engaging touch, but Lords of Data — a thoroughly modern idea — isn’t limited to that any more than it is the atmospheric grandiosity and lumber of “Crystal Gate” that launches side B. One way or the other, these dudes have been at it for more than a decade going back to the start of Calliope, but Astral Hand is a stirring refresh of purpose on their part and one hopes their lordship continues to flourish. I don’t know that they’re interested in such terrestrial concerns, but they’d be a great pickup for some discerning label.

Astral Hand on Facebook

Astral Hand on Bandcamp

—

 

Golden Bats, Scatter Yr Darkness

Slow-churning intensity is the order of the day on Scatter Yr Darkness, the eight-song sophomore LP from now-Italy-based solo-outfit Golden Bats, aka Geordie Stafford, who sure enough sprinkles death, rot and no shortage of darkness across the album’s 41-minute span, telling tales through metaphor in poetic lyrics of pandemic-era miseries; civic unrest and disaffection running like a needle through split skin to join the various pieces together. Echoing shouts give emphasis to the rawness of the sludge in “Holographic Stench” and “Erbgrind,” but in that eight-minute cut there’s a drop to cinematic, not-actually-minimalist-but-low-volume string sounds, and “Breathe Misery” begins with Mellotron-ish melancholy that hints toward the synth at the culmination of “A Savage Dod” and in the middle of “Malingering,” so nothing is actually so simple as the caustic surface makes it appear. Drums are programmed and the organ in “Bravo Sinkhole” and other keys may be as well, I don’t know, but as Stafford digs into Golden Bats sonically and conceptually — be it the bareknuckle “Riding in the Captain’s Skull” at the start or the raw-throated vocal echo spread over “The Gold Standard of Suffering,” which closes — the harshness of expression goes beyond the aural. It’s been a difficult few years, admittedly.

Golden Bats on Facebook

Golden Bats on Bandcamp

—

 

Zeup, Mammals

Straightforward in a way that feels oldschool in speaking to turn-of-the-century era heavy rock influences — big Karma to Burn vibe in the riffs of “Hollow,” and not by any means only there — the debut album Mammals from Danish trio Zeup benefits from decades of history in metal and rock on the part of drummer Morten Barth (ex-Wasted) and bassist/producer Morten Rold (ex-Beyond Serenity), and with non-Morten guitarist Jakob Bach Kristensen (also production) sharing vocals with Rold, they bring a down-to-business sensibility to their eight component tracks that can’t be faked. That’s consistent with 2020’s Blind EP (review here) and a fitting demonstration for any who’d take it on that sometimes you don’t need anything more than the basic guitar, bass, drums, vocals when the songs are there. Sure, they take some time to explore in the seven-minute instrumental “Escape” before hitting ground again in the aptly-titled slow post-hardcore-informed closer “In Real Life,” but even that is executed with clear intention and purpose beyond jamming. I’ll go with “Rising” as a highlight, but it’s a pick-your-poison kind of record, and there’s an awful lot that’s going to sound needlessly complicated in comparison.

Zeup on Facebook

Ozium Records store

—

 

Giant Sleep, Grounded to the Sky

Grounded to the Sky is the third LP from Germany’s Giant Sleep, and with it the band hones a deceptively complex scope drawn together in part by vocalist Thomas Rosenmerkel, who earns the showcase position with rousing blues-informed performances on the otherwise Tool-ish prog metal title-track and the later-Soundgardening leadoff before it, “Silent Field.” On CD and digital, the record sprawls across nearly an hour, but the vinyl edition is somewhat tighter, leaving off “Shadow Walker” and “The Elixir” in favor of a 43-minute run that puts the 4:43 rocker “Sour Milk” in the closer position, not insubstantially changing the personality of the record. Founded by guitarist Patrick Hagmann, with Rosenmerkel in the lineup as well as guitarist/backing vocalist Tobias Glanzmann (presumably that’ll be him in the under-layer of “Siren Song”), bassist Radek Stecki and drummer Manuel Spänhauer, they sound full as a five-piece and are crisp in their production and delivery even in the atmospherically minded “Davos,” which dares some float and drift along with a political commentary and feels like it’s taking no fewer chances in doing so, and generally come across as knowing who they are as a band and what they want to do with their sound, then doing it. In fact, they sound so sure, I’m not even certain why they sent the record out for review. They very obviously know they nailed what they were going for, and yes, they did.

Giant Sleep on Facebook

Czar of Crickets Productions website

—

 

Green Yeti, Necropolitan

It’s telling that even the CD version of Green Yeti‘s Necropolitan breaks its seven tracks down across two sides. The Athens trio of guitarist/vocalist Michael Andresakis, bassist Dani Avramidis and drummer Giannis Koutroumpis touch on psychedelic groove in the album-intro “Syracuse” before turning over to the pure post-Kyuss rocker “Witch Dive,” which Andresakis doing an admirable John Garcia in the process, before the instrumental “Jupiter 362” builds tension for five minutes without ever exploding, instead giving out to the quiet start of side A’s finish in “Golgotha,” which likewise builds but turns to harsher sludge rock topped by shouts and screams in the midsection en route to an outright cacophonous second half. That unexpected turn — really, the series of them — makes it such that as the bass-swinging “Dirty Lung” starts its rollout on side B, you don’t know what’s coming. The answer is half-Sleepy ultra-burl, but still. “Kerosene” stretches out the desert vibe somewhat, but holds a nasty edge to it, and the nine-minute “One More Bite,” which closes the record, has a central nod but feels at any moment like it might swap it for further assault. Does it? It’s worth listening to the record front to back to find out. Hail Greek heavy, and Green Yeti‘s willingness to pluck from microgenre at will is a good reason why.

Green Yeti on Facebook

Green Yeti on Bandcamp

—

 

This Friday, Heavy Psych Sounds will issue two of four concurrent live albums, gathering sets recorded in 2022 from Austin, Texas, bashers Duel and New Jersey-based headspinners The Atomic Bitchwax as both bands undertook European tours. Next week, the label will have two more from Ecstatic Vision and The Lords of Altamont, and those won’t be streamed here (nothing personal, just logistics), sad to say, but in addition to giving these bands something new for the merch table on their respective upcoming tours, these releases also capture and celebrate the return of live music post-pandemic, the sense of deliverance that came as a result of acts being able to hit the road again. Shows were different, life was/is different, but if you’ve got a group nailing it on stage as part of a righteous festival lineup, then there’s still beauty in the world to appreciate. So let’s do that.

—

The Atomic Bitchwax, Live at Freak Valley Fest

Preorder link: https://www.heavypsychsounds.com/shop.htm#HPS251

Full throttle full-throttlism. Band on fire. For over a quarter century, and increasingly so over their most recent three studio records, New Jersey’s The Atomic Bitchwax have made themselves an institution of heavy shred. Led by bassist/vocalist Chris Kosnik, with Bob Pantella on drums and Garrett Sweeny on guitar vocals, the trio hit Freak Valley Festival 2022 with all-go force, and as someone who was there, their presence on the bill as outright rippers did not go unappreciated. You can hear some of that in the quick turns and forward sprints of “Ain’t Nobody Gonna Hang Me in My Home” or “Ninja” or the by-now-classic “Shitkicker,” which are only some among the 15 songs the Bitchwax squeezed into their 48-minute set, bookended on either side by sections of Edgar Winter‘s “Frankenstein,” also duly kicked in the pants.

Not that they never slow it down. The Core cover “Kiss the Sun” and “So Come On,” “Liv a Little” late in the set are at about warp three (out of a Constitution-class seven), but on Live at Freak Valley Fest, even “Hope You Die” and “Forty-Five” feel faster, and the Evel Knievel aspect is part of what makes it fun. Kosnik, Sweeny and Pantella, up on stage, tearing ass to run circles around the riffs of “Houndstooth,” playing with heads-down tenacity that offsets what might otherwise be the seriousness of the physical effort required by such speeds with a palpable sense of just how much they’re enjoying themselves. It’s like watching a race. You know they probably won’t crash and you’re drawn in by the adrenaline in the atmosphere, but especially in the case of The Atomic Bitchwax, it’s all done in the name of a good time.

From the stage banter — two songs about ninjas, “Kiss the Sun” out to the ladies in the crowd, lots of “you guys ready?” before the next burst, etc. — to the way “Coming in Hot” takes off from its own teaser slow intro, The Atomic Bitchwax are every bit a blast, and as the closest thing they’ve come to a proper live album in their time was the 2005 set from Seattle included in the 2006 Jack Endino-produced Boxriff EP, they’re well due for this kind of showcase. Live at Freak Valley Fest brings to life the ‘t-t-t-total freedom’ heralded in the lyrics to “Hope You Die” and is a twisty speed rock gauntlet being thrown down.

Can you keep up? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it’s a thrill to try, and the energy they bring to their material, new and old alike, is infectious. They play and smile, you listen and smile, and this communion and shared experience is the point of the whole thing. I don’t know when they might follow-up 2020’s Scorpio (review here) — wouldn’t mind this year, but I haven’t heard more than a murmur about new stuff — but Live at Freak Valley Fest captures them at their best on stage, and considering who we’re talking about, that means something.

The Atomic Bitchwax on Facebook

The Atomic Bitchwax on Instagram

The Atomic Bitchwax website

—

Duel, Live at Hellfest

Preorder link: https://www.heavypsychsounds.com/shop.htm#HPS258

Duel are a proven argument in my mind. They lay waste, exclusively. Their 2021 fourth album, In Carne Persona (review here), highlighted the underlying metallic current of their songwriting, and that LP’s “Wave of Your Hand” from opens the set at Live at Hellfest with due charge. It might sound strange until you see them or maybe really dig in here, but the Austin-based four-piece — who also appeared at Freak Valley (review here) as part of this tour — are most of all about love. Their Hellfest 2022 set? It’s half an hour long; 30:20 on the record. Not taking up your day, and whether you were there or not, the sheer sense of relief of the band playing on stage comes through unabated. This is a band who sat on their collective ass for two years waiting to break out, and Live at Hellfest is their breakout. It is something you want to hear.

This is the second live record Duel have done behind 2018’s Live at the Electric Church (review here), and they meet the occasion in furious form. Through “Devil” from 2017’s Witchbanger (review here) and into “Electricity” from their 2016 debut, Fears of the Dead (review here) — the title-track of which also closes — the band draw a from older material to newer, with the delightfully metal “Strike and Disappear” representing 2019’s Valley of Shadows (review here) before they turn to “Children of the Fire,” the opener of the latest LP. That song emphasizes a lot of what works best about Duel on stage; it is tight in structure, swinging and grooving with enough tonal presence behind it to feel thick, catchy as anything you want to sit next to it, and delivered with propulsive authority, the gruff voice of guitarist Tom Frank — backed by bassist Sean Avants and guitarist Jeff Henson — a commanding presence that nonetheless sounds sincere amid the cacophony at the end of “Children of the Fire” when he says “We love you so much.”

And really, that’s the story here. That love. The love of the band for their audience, for their material itself, for the performance itself, the passion of their delivery that comes through even the raw audio. For that, they don’t need more than the half-hour Live at Hellfest runs, and as brash as their songs can be — “Electricity” and “Strike and Disappear” both build into righteously noisy solos — the spirit that drives Duel remains the same. They’re an act who believe in what they do and are going to get on stage and put as much into it as they can. I’ve been fortunate enough to see them a few times over the last half-decade, and they’ve only ever been a joy to behold, throwing elbows as they gallop through, riding riffs like “Fears of the Dead” as they coalesce around the next hook, dirt-fuzz and an overlaid element of danger the calling card left imprinted on the memory of the crowd standing before them. On Live at Hellfest it’s easy to imagine slackened jaws and wide eyes, but you can also hear the roar of the crowd when they’re done, and yeah, that tent was on board for where Duel were headed. Rightly so.

Duel on Facebook

Duel on Instagram

Duel on Bandcamp

—

Heavy Psych Sounds on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds on Instagram

Heavy Psych Sounds website

Heavy Psych Sounds on Bandcamp

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: Danny Gollin of Halfway to Gone

—

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

I make really loud noise by hitting stuff with sticks, and also help in the making of music that hopefully pleases other people as much as it pleases us who think it up and then perform it. I came into it first at around 8 years old when I realized that I might be able to sing like that guy on that record if I try and work on it a little bit. Eventually I wanted to be able to play every instrument in KISS, but I kept being re-directed by parents determined that I not waste my time trying to actually be a musician for a living. I’d ask for an electric guitar and rock lessons, and instead get an old acoustic with action 12” high and folk guitar lessons. I’d ask to get a drumkit and be flat out told “no way are you ever bringing drums into this house.” Eventually persistence and inspiration from Neil Peart, who suddenly was the world’s newest greatest drummer around 1981, won the day and I was allowed to bring drums into the house AND play them (only when my folks were not home—they were ALWAYS HOME!!!!) The rest is history I guess. Oh yeah, I also am a licensed physician and an expert witness in psychiatry, but that’s a whole other story.

Describe your first musical memory.

Now that is a really tough question — I’m gonna have to say my earliest memories were of my mom and cousins playing a little tickle game that involved a little sing-songy thing they’d say while distracting me and lulling me into a false sense of security moving their finger around my palm, then the tickle would come up my arm outta nowhere and we’d all laugh. Silly but true. There are surely earlier musical things sung/played to me as a baby that I don’t even remember at all, because both of my parents listened to music a lot. Another indelible memory is my grandmother singing crazy “Jewish Grandma” things to my brother and me that we still make fun of and tell all our friends about every chance we get — JJ Koczan has almost certainly heard some or all of them. If not, then he should remind me next time I see him and be prepared to pee himself.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

Another toughie — so many years… I’ll impulsively say booting up NHL2K6 on Playstation 2 for the first time and hearing my drum intro to King Of Mean come blasting out of the TV as the theme music/first thing you really hear when the game starts. I was not told ahead of time that we were the theme song for the PS2 (Five Horse Johnson was on the Xbox version) — I only knew we had a couple of songs in the game soundtrack, so it was a shock, but a nice one!

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

When an old band I was in, Glueneck, broke up it almost broke me. It was one week before we were scheduled to record at Electric Lady Studios for four days for Atlantic Records. I was always convinced I was capable enough to soothe all the interpersonal bullshit that would come up, and firmly believed that the great music we were pumping out, and nearly-impossible opportunities we had right in front of us would at least carry us into landing a deal and being able to have a shot at doing something with it and realizing the dream, but all that ended and I was wrong. I then thought my dream was crushed for all time and it eventually veered me completely away from any hopes of any musical success ever again. And then I was wrong again, and now I only regret not sticking with it the whole time. Number one piece of advice to talented and aspiring rock stars — do not give up trying no matter what the fuck crazy fucked up shit happens and especially if you’re still relatively young. Number two — make sure you surround yourself with solid individuals who you truly want to be around all the time and who will be there even if shit goes completely fucking sideways and backwards or stalls out and won’t start again for a few hundred cranks of the engine.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

For myself, hopefully it leads to being better at getting across whatever it is I’m trying to put out there, and expands the ways I can do it along with the different things I might be able to express.

How do you define success?

At this point any time I play even half decent, I call it a success, since I only really play for the sake of playing anymore. I think being recognized enough to have some music be put into places where tons of people can be exposed to it is another form of success (see NHL2K6 above, but also having songs in TV shows and movies is always surreal when I stumble on something channel surfing).

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

My very elderly parents naked (within the past year).

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

An entire song with all parts and lyrics would be nice.

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

I think the most essential function of it is for it to exist at all—it’s an expression/communication like anything one says or does, but it hits in its own unique ways (depending what medium you are talking about) that are not so easily expressed in other ways of communicating. And it hopefully benefits both the artist who is processing something inside them and the audience who then may get some similar benefit vicariously.

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

Being with people I love, but haven’t been able to spend much or any time with for quite a too-long while.

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063495039725

http://www.smallstone.com
http://www.facebook.com/smallstonerecords
http://twitter.com/SSRecordings
http://www.instagram.com/smallstonerecords

Halfway to Gone, Live at the Brighton Bar, 2010

Some bands are just always going to have a place in your heart. We’re going on 19 years since Halfway to Gone released their 2004 self-titled third album through Small Stone, and there’s still some part of me waiting for a follow-up. What can I say? It’s a universe of infinite possibilities. That could be one of them. If believing that makes me sentimental, I’ve been called worse.

Formed in my beloved Garden State of New Jersey around the turn of the century, Halfway to Gone made their debut in a 2000 split with Alabama Thunderpussy released by Game Two Records and spent the next half-decade or so on a ripper course of three albums and multiple tours, playing a kind of Northeastern take on semi-Southern heavy rock and roll. Their first long-player, High Five (discussed here), surfaced through Small Stone in 2001, Second Season (discussed here) followed in 2002, and their self-titled third album — the band firmly declaring who they were throughout 12 hard-hitting, riff-propelled tracks, workman-like in their everyday-woes and lyrical middlefingerism and sharp in their expression — came two years later and remains a moment of arrival for the three-piece of bassist/vocalist Lou Gorra, guitarist Stu Gollin and drummer Danny Gollin, who had a hand in producing along with Robert Burrows and Bob Pantella (Monster Magnet, Raging Slab, subsequently also The Atomic Bitchwax, etc.), the latter of whom also mixed. So thanks, Bob, I guess, for making “Slidin’ Down the Razor” sound so massive but still move. Thanks everybody, maybe.

The phrase ‘dirt rock’ didn’t really exist at the time, as much as it does now with any meaning behind it, but it’s hard to find another designation that suits the 41-minutes of Halfway to Gone as well. Careening ragers like “Couldn’t Even Find a Fight” and “Burn ’em Down” show the band at their most brash — it’s not as fast, but the penultimate swing of “King of Mean” should be on that list as well, for Danny‘s drums as much as the lyrics — thick in tone and groove but thoroughly in control, confident in what they are doing and never as sharp or efficient in their songwriting. Rolling first track “Turnpike” wastes no time on introductions. It places them squarely in New Jersey but drips with attitude and grievance in its lyrics (so yes, New Jersey), while its jammy side B counterpart “His Name is Leroi (King of Troi)” loops guitar effects and noise — Billy Reedy, Small Stone‘s own Scott Hamilton, and Big Chief‘s Phil Dürr (R.I.P.) are credited with album guest spots on guitar, feedback and “ridiculator,” respectively — as a kind of breather before “Burn ’em Down” takes off at full speed, mirroring “Couldn’t Even Find a Fight”‘s launch after the heavier midtempo push of the opener.

Of the many, many heavy rock covers of Deep Purple‘s “Black Night” that have surfaced in the last half-century, Halfway to Gone‘s stands among the most off-the-cuff, let’s-take-a-crack-at-it casual, and the grit they kick at that famous, bouncy start-stop riff makes it feel right at home alongside the blues of “Hammers Fallin'” and the are-you-guys-making-fun-of-Dixie–Witch slide guitar in “Out on the Road,” on which Danny joins Gorra on backing vocals, which is probably something that could’ve happened more often than it did. Harmonica scorch tops the outset of the more severe fuzz crashes in “Good Friend,” but the song is ultimately more about the turn in its second half, Stu taking another in his series of ripper solos — some folks are just born to play lead guitar, and then they work at it too for a few decades and get even better — as the trio turns to more of a gallop, Gorra finishing with the shouty refrain, “I still get by/I still get high for free,” in and out in just over three minutes.

It was alluded to noted, but while Halfway to Gone sounded mean and dirty, one of its most vital aspects — then and now — is its ability to get in, kick ass, and get out. Each song offers something to distinguish it from the rest, bolstering and broadening the whole impression of the record, but the tones are consistent, the structures are steady and the performances are tight even in a looser-rolling piece like “The Other Side,” which pulls back on the general intensity from “Burn ’em Down” just before, finds Gorra with a more melodic take on vocals, and allows a grunge-via-blues spaciousness to flourish for a few moments before they head down the highway in “Out on the Road,” the lyrics in the hook of which namedrop the band, “I’m going for broke/Out on the road/Halfway to gone,” with lines rearranged the second and third times through, the last of which is especially soulful in finishing the song. The momentum keeps going. After that pair, “King of Mean” feels like a relative surge, and the Hammond-led blues jam “Mr. Nasty Time” seems at last to let go of the tension that’s run like an electrical current through most of what’s preceded, meandering for a few minutes before giving over to the sample of the actor George C. Scott from 1979’s Hardcore repeating “turn it off” in increasingly guttural fashion as his reality comes crashing down on him.

That kind of self-effacing humor is quintessential to understanding this record, this era of heavy rock. Halfway to Gone weren’t about to take themselves too seriously, even though they had to know they just put everything they had into making this record. And like many of the pre-social media mobilization, pre-streaming era, their work remains ripe for reissue and as much contemporary as it is classic, but I won’t pretend not to be nostalgic. A month or two ago, the town of Long Branch tore down what was an epicenter of New Jersey’s heavy rock scene in the Brighton Bar, and thinking about the shows seen (and a couple played) there, including the last time I saw Halfway to Gone now over a decade ago (review here), I feel old enough to know that some things go and you don’t get them back and that’s it. I wouldn’t want this band to just do another record for nothing, but if Lou, Stu and Danny had it in them, I do think it might earn them some of the respect they’ve long since deserved. This was the last of their albums I hadn’t written about, as you can see from the “discussed here” links above, and so finishing this makes me a little sad. So it goes.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

Oy vey, this week.

I’m not sorry to see it go.

Like a lot of people presently being ripped off by the increasing costs of everything — gas, food, lodging — we’re about as broke as we’ve been since moving back to NJ. They raised the price of eggs a dollar and it matters. That kind of broke. The holidays apparently destroyed us, and the stress of locking down spending, as it will, has bled into the general mood of the household. To tell you something you likely already know: it sucks. Paychecks are gone before they’re here, and especially with it being winter, dark and cold, there’s just not as much to do with the hours of the day. The Patient Mrs. posits this as part of why The Pecan has been throwing punches and kicks as much as he has. In any case, it is a harsh moment in which to exist, and the fact that I am not gainfully employed — as much as parenting is “work,” and it is, it brings nothing in terms of income (please do get me started on UBI and the child tax credit) — weighs as heavily as my own e’er-expanding, middle-aged ass.

I hope you enjoyed the Quarterly Review. That’s 100 records I’m mostly glad to have covered. I’ve been doing QRs for about eight years now, so if we say it’s usually 50 per, four times a year, that’s 200 a year, times eight is 1,600, plus another couple hundred for extended QRs like this one and the last, and it’s probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,000 QR reviews at this point. It’s become a big part of how I’m able to get stuff in, and there’s always more, which is amazing and humbling in kind.

Next week is back to whatever normal is around here, some premieres, etc. Monday I’ll review the event demos/rarities collection from Samsara Blues Experiment basically as a favor to myself — there’s a new Fuzz Sagrado record as well (that being the new project of ex-SBE guitarist/vocalist Christian Peters, now based in Brazil), and I’ll get there too — and then it’s on from there.

I think new merch is dropping today. Check http://mibk.bigcartel.com/products if you get a second. Any support is deeply appreciated.

Have a great and safe weekend. Hydrate, watch your head. See you back here Monday for more of whatever it is we do around here.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

 

 

We roll on in this new-year-smelling 2023 with day two of the Quarterly Review. Yesterday was pretty easy, but the first day almost always is. Usually by Thursday I’m feeling it. Or the second Tuesday. It varies. In any case, as you know, this QR is a double, which means it’s going to include 100 albums total, written about between yesterday and next Friday. Ton of stuff, and most of it is 2022, but generally later in the year, so at least I’m only a couple months behind your no doubt on-the-ball listening schedule.

Look. I can’t pretend to keep up with a Spotify algorithm, I’m sorry. I do my best, but that’s essentially a program to throw bands in your face (while selling your data and not paying artists). My hope is that being able to offer a bit of context when I throw 100 bands in your face is enough of a difference to help you find something you dig. Some semblance of curation. Maybe I’m flattering myself. I’m pretty sure Spotify can inflate its own ego now too.

Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #11-20:

Antimatter, A Profusion of Thought

Project founder, vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Mick Moss isn’t through opener “No Contact” — one of the 10 inclusions on Antimatter‘s 54-minute eighth LP, A Profusion of Thought — before he readily demonstrates he can carry the entire album himself if need be. Irish Cuyos offers vocals on the subsequent “Paranoid Carbon” and Liam Edwards plays live drums where applicable, but with a realigned focus on programmed elements, his own voice the constant that surrounds various changes in mood and purpose, and stretches of insularity even on the full-band-sounding “Fools Gold” later on, the self-released outing comes across as more inward than the bulk of 2018’s Black Market Enlightenment, though elements like the acoustic-led approach of “Breaking the Machine,” well-produced flourishes of layering and an almost progressive-goth (proggoth?) atmosphere carry over. “Redshift” balances these sides well, as does fold before it, and “Templates” before that, and “Fools Gold” after, as Antimatter thankfully continues to exist in a place of its own between melancholic heavy, synthesized singer-songwriterism and darker, doom-born-but-not-doom metal, all of which seem to be summarized in the closing salvo of “Entheogen,” “Breaking the Machine” and “Kick the Dog.” Moss is a master of his craft long-established, and a period of isolation has perhaps led to some of the shifting balance here, but neither the album nor its songs are done a disservice by that.

Antimatter on Facebook

Antimatter on Bandcamp

—

 

Mick’s Jaguar, Salvation

There was a point, maybe 15 years ago now give or take, when at least Manhattan and Brooklyn in New York City were awash in semi-retro, jangly-but-rough-edged-to-varying-degrees rock and roll bands. Some sounded like Joan Jett, some sounded like the Ramones, or The Strokes or whoever. On Salvation, their second LP, Mick’s Jaguar bring some chunky Judas Priest riffing, no shortage of attitude, and as the five-piece — they were six on 2018’s Fame and Fortune (review here) — rip into a proto-shredder like “Speed Dealer,” worship Thin Lizzy open string riffing on “Nothing to Lose” or bask in what would be sleaze were it not for the pandemic making any “Skin Contact” at all a serotonin spike, they effectively hop onto either side of the line where rock meets heavy. Also the longest track at 4:54, “Molotov Children” is a ’70s-burly highlight, and “Handshake Deals” is an early-arriving hook that seems to make everything after it all the more welcome. “Man Down” and “Free on the Street” likewise push their choruses toward anthemic barroom sing-alongs, and while I’m not sure those bars haven’t been priced out of the market and turned into unoccupied investment luxury condos by now, rock and roll’s been declared dead in New York at least 100,000 times and it obviously isn’t, so there.

Mick’s Jaguar on Facebook

Tee Pee Records store

Totem Cat Records store

—

 

Sammal, Aika laulaa

Long live Finnish weird. More vintage in their mindset than overall presentation, Sammal return via the ever-reliable Svart Records with Aika Laulaa, the follow-up to 2018’s Suuliekki (review here) and their fourth album total, with eight songs and 43 minutes that swap languages lyrically between Finnish, Swedish and English as fluidly as they take progressive retroism and proto-metal to a place of their own that is neither, both, and more. From the languid lead guitar in “Returning Rivers” to the extended side-enders “On Aika Laulaa” with its pastoralized textures and “Katse Vuotaa” with its heavy blues foundation, willfully brash surge, and long fade, the band gracefully skip rocks across aesthetic waters, opening playful and Scandi-folk-derived on “På knivan” before going full fuzz in “Sehr Kryptisch,” turning the three-minute meander of “Jos ei pelaa” into a tonal highlight and resolving the instrumental “(Lamda)” (sorry, the character won’t show up) with a jammy soundscape that at least sounds like it’s filled out by organ if it isn’t. A band who can go wherever they want and just might actually dare to do so, Sammal reinforce the notion of their perpetual growth and Aika laulaa is a win on paper for that almost as much as for the piano notes cutting through the distortion on “Grym maskin.” Almost.

Sammal on Facebook

Svart Records store

—

 

Cassius King, Dread the Dawn

Former Hades guitarist Dan Lorenzo continues a personal riffy renaissance with Cassius King‘s Dread the Dawn, one of several current outlets among Vessel of Light and Patriarchs in Black. On Dread the Dawn, the New Jersey-based Lorenzo, bassist Jimmy Schulman (ex-Attacker) and drummer Ron Lipnicki (ex-Overkill) — the rhythm section also carried over from Vessel of Light — and vocalist Jason McMaster offer 11 songs and 49 minutes of resoundingly oldschool heavy, Dio Sabbath-doomed rock. Individual tracks vary in intent, but some of the faster moments on “Royal Blooded” or even the galloping opener “Abandon Paradise” remind of Candlemass tonally and even rockers like “How the West Was Won,” “Bad Man Down” and “Back From the Dead” hold an undercurrent of classic metal, never mind the creeper riff of the title-track or its eight-minute companion-piece, the suitably swinging “Doomsday.” Capping with a bonus take on Judas Priest‘s “Troubleshooter,” Dread the Dawn has long since by then gotten its point across but never failed to deliver in either songwriting or performance. They strut, and earn it.

Cassius King on Facebook

MDD Records store

—

 

Seven Rivers of Fire, Way of the Pilgrim

Issued on tape through UK imprint Dub Cthonic, the four-extended-tracker Way of the Pilgrim is the second 2022 full-length from South African solo folk experimentalist Seven Rivers of Fire — aka William Randles — behind September’s Sanctuary (review here) and March’s Star Rise, and its mostly acoustic-based explorations are as immersive and hypnotic as ever as the journey from movement to movement in “They are Calling // Exodus” (11:16) sets up processions through the drone-minded “Awaken // The Passenger” (11:58), “From the Depths // Into the Woods” (12:00) and “Ascend // The Fall” (11:56), Randles continuing to dig into his own particular wavelength and daring to include some chanting and other vocalizations in the opener and “From the Depths // Into the Woods” and the piano-laced finale. Each piece has an aural theme of its own and sets out from there, feeling its way forward with what feels like a genuinely unplanned course. Way of the Pilgrim isn’t going to be for everybody, as with all of Seven Rivers of Fire‘s output, but those who can tune to its frequencies are going to find its resonance continual.

Seven Rivers of Fire on Facebook

Dub Cthonic on Bandcamp

—

 

Amon Acid, Cosmogony

Leeds-based psychedelic doomers Amon Acid channel the grimmer reaches of the cosmic — and a bit of Cathedral in “Hyperion” — on their fifth full-length in four years, second of 2022, Cosmogony. The core duo of guitarist/vocalist/synthesist Sarantis Charvas and bassist/cellist Briony Charvas — joined on this nine-tracker by the singly-named Smith on drums — harness stately space presence and meditative vibes on “Death on the Altar,” the guitar ringing out vague Easternisms while the salvo that started with “Parallel Realm” seems only to plunge further and further into the lysergic unknown. Following the consuming culmination of “Demolition Wave” and the dissipation of the residual swirl there, the band embark on a series of shorter cuts with “Nag Hammandi,” the riff-roller “Mandragoras,” the gloriously-weird-but-still-somehow-accessible “Demon Rider” and the this-is-our-religion “Ethereal Mother” before the massive buildup of “The Purifier” begins, running 11 minutes, which isn’t that much longer than the likes of “Parallel Realm” or “Death on the Altar,” but rounds out the 63-minute procession with due galaxial churn just the same. Plodding and spacious, I can’t help but feel like if Amon Acid had a purposefully-dumber name they’d be more popular, but in the far, far out where they reside, these things matter less when there are dimensions to be warped.

Amon Acid on Facebook

Helter Skelter Productions website

—

 

Iron & Stone, Mountains and Waters

The original plan from Germany’s Iron & Stone was that the four-song Mountains and Waters was going to be the first in a sequence of three EP releases. As it was recorded in Fall 2020 — a time, if you’ll recall, when any number of plans were shot to hell — and only released this past June, I don’t know if the band are still planning to follow it with another two short offerings or not, but for the bass in “Loose the Day” alone, never mind the well-crafted heavy fuzz rock that surrounds on all sides, I’m glad they finally got this one out. Opener “Cosmic Eye” is catchy and comfortable in its tempo, and “Loose the Day” answers with fuzz a-plenty while “Vultures” metes out swing and chug en route to an airy final wash that immediately bleeds into “Unbroken,” which is somewhat more raucous and urgent of riff, but still has room for a break before its and the EP’s final push. Iron & Stone are proven in my mind when it comes to heavy rock songwriting, and they seem to prefer short releases to full-lengths — arguments to be made on either side, as ever — but whether or not it’s the beginning of a series, Mountains and Waters reaffirms the band’s strengths, pushes their craft to the forefront, and celebrates genre even as it inhabits it. There’s nothing more one might ask.

Iron & Stone on Facebook

Iron & Stone on Bandcamp

—

 

DR​Ö​Ö​G, DR​Ö​Ö​G

To be sure, there shades of are discernible influences in DR​Ö​Ö​G‘s self-titled Majestic Mountain Records first long-player, from fellow Swedes Graveyard, Greenleaf, maybe even some of earlier Abramis Brama‘s ’70s vibes, but these are only shades. Thus it is immediately refreshing how unwilling the self-recording core duo of Magnus Vestling and Daniel Engberg are to follow the rules of style, pushing the drums far back into the mix and giving the entire recording a kind of far-off feel, their classic and almost hypnotic, quintessentially Swedish (and in Swedish, lyrically-speaking) heavy blues offered with hints of psychedelic flourish and ready emergence. The way “Stormhatt” seems to rise in the space of its own making. The fuller fuzz of “Blodörn.” The subtle tension of the riff in the second half of “Nattfjärilar.” In songs mostly between six and about eight minutes long, DR​Ö​Ö​G distinguish themselves in tone — bass and hard-strummed guitar out front in “Hamnskiftaren” along with the vocals — and melody, creating an earthy atmosphere that has elements of svensk folkmusik without sounding like a caricature of that or anything else. They’ve got me rewriting my list of 2022’s best debut albums, and already looking forward to how they grow this sound going on from here.

DR​Ö​Ö​G on Facebook

Majestic Mountain Records store

—

 

Grales, Remember the Earth but Never Come Back

Rare is a record so thoroughly screamed that is also so enhanced by its lyrics. Hello, Remember the Earth but Never Come Back. Based in Montreal — home to any number of disaffected sludgy noisemakers — Grales turn apocalyptic dystopian visions into poetry on the likes of “All Things are Temporary,” and anti-capitalist screed on “From Sea to Empty Sea” and “Wretched and Low,” tying together anthropocene planet death with the drive of human greed in concise, sharp, and duly harsh fashion. Laced with noise, sludged to the gills it’s fortunate enough to have so it can breathe in the rising ocean waters, and pointed in its lurch, the five-song/43-minute outing takes the directionless fuckall of so many practitioners of its genre and sets itself apart by knowing and naming exactly what it’s mad about. It’s mad about wage theft, climate change, the hopelessness that surrounds most while a miserly few continue to rape and pillage what should belong to everybody. The question asked in “Agony” answers itself: “What is the world without our misery? We’ll never know.” With this perspective in mind and a hint of melody in the finale “Sic Transit Mundus,” Grales offer a two-sided tape through From the Urn Records that is gripping in its onslaught and stirring despite its outward misanthropy. It’s not that they don’t care; it’s that they want you to pick up a molotov cocktail and toss it at your nearest corporate headquarters. Call it relatable.

Grales on Facebook

From the Urn Records on Bandcamp

—

 

Half Gramme of Soma, Slip Through the Cracks

Energetic in its delivery and semi-progressive in its intentions, Half Gramme of Soma‘s second album, Slip Through the Cracks, arrives with the backing of Sound of Liberation Records, the label wing of one of Europe’s lead booking agencies for heavy rock. Not a minor endorsement, but it’s plain to hear in the eight-song/42-minute course the individualism and solidified craft that prompted the pickup: Half Gramme of Soma know what they’re doing, period. Working with producer George Leodis (1000mods, Godsleep, Last Rizla, etc.) in their native Athens, they’ve honed a sound that reaches deeper than the deceptively short runtimes of tracks like “Voyager” and “Sirens” or “Wounds” might lead you to believe, and the blend of patience and intensity on finale-and-longest-song “22:22” (actually 7:36) highlights their potential in both its languid overarching groove and the later guitar solos that cut through it en route to that long fade, without sacrificing the present for the sake of the future. That is, whatever Half Gramme of Soma might do on their third record, Slip Through the Cracks shouldn’t. Even in fest-ready riffers “High Heels” and “Mind Game,” they bleed personality and purpose.

Half Gramme of Soma on Facebook

Sound of Liberation Records store

—

 

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: Dan Lorenzo of Cassius King, Patriarchs in Black, Vessel of Light, Hades, & Non-Fiction

—

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

I’m a salesman in the tattoo business who considers himself a mediocre musician who is also one of the most prolific riff writers in heavy music.

Describe your first musical memory.

I’d like to pretend it was hearing Kiss Rock and Roll Over and being floored, but the truth is I was born in 1963 and my first “musical” memory was watching The Partridge Family and thinking David Cassidy looked cool and that I should grow my hair.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

Pantera’s Phil Anselmo singing one of my songs ( Non-Fiction’s The My Way) to me in a hotel in Los Angeles to prove he remembered who I was.

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

I love this question, but I don’t think any of my beliefs have ever been tested personally.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

For me it leads to retiring about two years later than I could. Even though all my bands have record deals I dump a large amount of my own money into marketing and promotion. Want a free Patriarchs In Black hoodie JJ?

How do you define success?

The ability to eat whatever food I want every day. I moved out of my home in 1983 and for about ten years meals were not guaranteed. I didn’t eat every day.

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

A few years ago, I was in my car at a railway crossing after eating breakfast. The gates were down and I heard the train coming. I was distracted by something, and I looked down for a moment

When I looked up, I saw a 23 year old woman with a hint of a smile in front of me. She had earbuds in and was scrolling on her phone just 6-8 feet in front of me crossing the railroad tracks. Before I could yell or honk my car horn she was gone. Her death fucked me up for months.

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

My 23rd album. A second with Patriarchs In Black. It’s already in the beginning process. It’s just another album, but it still keeps me energized and excited as “the next album” always should.

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

Providing people with a strong emotional feeling.

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

Summer 2023. The winters in northern New Jersey blow chunks.

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063461712608
https://www.instagram.com/cassiuskingband/

https://cassiusking.bandcamp.com/
https://cassiusking.hearnow.com/field-trip

https://instagram.com/patriarchsinblack
https://patriarchsinblack.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/vesseloflightband
www.instagram.com/VesselOfLightMusic
https://vesseloflight.bandcamp.com/

Cassius King, Dread the Dawn (2022)

Patriarchs in Black, “Demon of Regret”

Vessel of Light, Last Ride (2020)

It’s been years since I last spoke to the party behind New Jersey instrumental solo-project 00, but first, I want to wish the dude in question — who doesn’t list his name in the press release, so I won’t use it either — the best and congratulations on the new record, groove-riding and heavy-jamming as it is, and second, I’ll note that his pedigree includes time in Solarized as well as Maegashira, in which I was the singer. I’ve been a fan of his guitar tone for going on 18-ish years, and that’s front and center as 00 arrives with a first EP, 100 percent of the proceeds from which will be donated to charity. Pretty rad, and I’d expect no less.

So far as I can tell there’s no social media presence for 00 except for Bandcamp, where you can name your price for the release. The PR wire sent this moments ago:

STONER/DOOM/SLUDGE ACT 00 TO RELEASE VOLUME 00 EP ON DECEMBER 6

100% OF THE PROCEEDS TO BENEFIT THE ASSOCIATED HUMANE SOCIETY + POPCORN PARK ANIMAL REFUGE IN NEW JERSEY

Does the world need another flannel-wearing bearded dude, playing Sabbath style stoner x doom x sludge heavy music?

Wait! Don’t answer that question.

Does the world need more compassion towards the mistreatment of innocent animals?

Absolutely!

On December 6, Volume 00 by 00 will be released — with 100% of the artist proceeds generated from the download of this music to be paid directly to the Associated Humane Society and Popcorn Park Animal Refuge — a remarkable wildlife sanctuary and animal shelter located in scenic Forked River, New Jersey.

Go here to grab the music and support the cause: https://00-nj.bandcamp.com/

Watch the video for lead track “Solitary Waltz” here.

It features phenomenal photos of some of the animals benefitting from the extraordinary work being done at the Popcorn Park Animal Refuge.

https://00-nj.bandcamp.com/

00, “Solitary Waltz” official video

00, Volume 00 (2022)