Posted in Reviews on November 7th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The fade-in at the start is a fake out, and not by any means the last time New Jersey’s Ruby the Hatchet pull the rug out from under listener expectation on their fourth full-length, Fear is a Cruel Master. The five-piece’s first studio work in five years since 2017’s Planetary Space Child (review here) begins with “The Change,” and fair enough as they flourish with headphone-ready nuance and sonic details like the layer of backing vocals that cut out in the middle of a “chaaa” at 2:04 (actually, that one might be an error in the promo, but it doesn’t make the clicking noise like the definitely-an-error in “Deceiver,” which follows), the rich guitar tone of Johnny Scarps (né Scarperia) and the organ and other keyboard lines of Sean Khan Hur intertwining to classic effect all the while under vocalist Jillian Taylor‘s rock-pop urgency and on top of the groove laid forth by drummer Owen Stewart — who joins Taylor for a duet on doomy closer “Amor Gravis” — and bassist Lake Muir.
With production by Paul Ritchie (also The Parlor Mob) at New Future in NJ, the five-piece offer a heavy rock blending influences from different eras, sourcing individualism from ’60s psych, guitar heroism from late ’70s and ’80s AOR — there are moments on the record that genuinely remind of Kenny Loggins, and I promise you I mean that as a compliment; anyone who can make people care about “Danger Zone” can write a song — the ’10s revivalist heavy of Ruby the Hatchet‘s own early work in the 2015 Valley of the Snake (review here) and 2012’s Ouroboros debut, now a decade old. Oh, and I’m sure there’s ’90s and ’00s there too; just take the last 55 years or so of rock and roll and mash it together and see what comes out.
Rife with hooks and righteous individual performances, Fear is a Cruel Master resounds with a desire to engage its audience. It does not sound live — and that’s not a dig; there’s a breadth to the band’s sound that feels very intentional and studio-born that can be heard in “The Change” and “Deceiver” at the outset as well as side B counterparts “Soothsayer” and “Thruster,” the latter extra stormy in its classic vibe. Of course Deep Purple are a reference point there, and Black Sabbath, but some of the depth of mix that emerges here more generally also calls to mind first-record Ghost in its overarching melody, and Ruby the Hatchet‘s dynamic, whether it’s the dirty-jeans biker riff of “Primitive Man” or the layered sense of culmination in “1,000 Years,” which begins with mournful lead guitar and is the longest of the eight tracks at 6:18.
No, it does not sound live, but it does sound like it was meant to be played live. The underlying structures of the songs are crisp and plotted — they’ve never wanted for knowing where they’re headed in terms of songwriting — and each piece of the 43-minute entirety has a purpose serving the greater whole. From the mournful sway and command of “1,000 Years” to the cavernous echoing guitar leads and organ lines of “Last Saga,” there is no single piece of Fear is a Cruel Master that does not feel like it would work in a stage setting, and that does not at all mean they’re all loud or over-the-top or simply based around hooks or whatever. The truth is Ruby the Hatchet show more range on Fear is a Cruel Master than they ever have, and still do it in a way that is accessible at its core.
There are any number of ways to listen to Fear is a Cruel Master. Johnny Scarps offers graduate-level class on riffs and solos, whether it’s the shuffle and takeoff of “Soothsayer,” the shoving chug of “Primitive Man,” the grandiose lead work of “Last Saga” or the shifting to a thicker fuzz in “Amor Gravis” and the harnessing of slow-Slayer for doomed purposes in that closer’s midsection. Jillian Taylor is like undeniable as a charismatic presence up front and as a singer of marked range and ability to convey emotion, whether it’s the initial movement of “The Change” or standing astride the shifting tempo of “Amor Gravis,” a further highlight for what Muir (do not miss the bassline as well in “Thruster”) and Stewart bring on bass and drums, never mind the vocals the latter adds to the mix on the prior “Last Saga.”
And Sean Khan Hur is the not-a-secret weapon in the band’s arsenal, consistently building off the guitar and vocal melodies with creative sounds and a just-right vibe, be it the melancholy stretch of “1,000 Years” or the horror-rock sweep in “Thruster.” This is probably the part where I’m supposed to tell you all of these elements play together to create the entire sphere of Ruby the Hatchet‘s sound. Sure. That seems like something somebody reviewing an album positively would say, and it’s not untrue. What’s also happening though is there’s almost a feeling of competing aspects of the band’s sound, whether it’s the guitar, the keys, the vocals, the rhythm, the melody, all vying for attention at once.
From less capable songwriters, Fear is a Cruel Master would be a mess. It would simply come apart. The platter would melt on your turntable, the files would delete themselves from your phone, Spotify would explode (which could only be an improvement), etc. A decade on from their debut and five years after their last record, including two decisively wretched pandemic years that definitely play into some of the spirit of this material if not the actual subject matter, Ruby the Hatchet turn that sensibility into a source of excitement, and it becomes a defining feature of the LP as one piece or another comes forward at a given moment, soon to be one-upped by the next thing, whatever it might be.
By the time they’ve made their way down to “Last Saga” and “Amor Gravis,” it is clear who the actual masters are. Fear is a Cruel Master is not a common record, whatever genre tag one might want to saddle it with. Ruby the Hatchet‘s craft is vital and based around a traditionalist core, but they’ve grown out of whatever rawness was left following Planetary Space Child and wherever they go next, they go as an outfit whose hard-earned maturity is just one on a long list of sonic assets. With Fear is a Cruel Master, they demonstrate aesthetic reach that’s both newly found and organically grown, and surpass their influences with the confidence of a band who’ve always known they were on the right track. And so they were.
Posted in Reviews on September 28th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I’m in it. The only reason I even know what day it is is because I keep notes and I set up the back end of these posts ahead of time. They tell me what number I’m on. As for the rest, it’s blinders and music, all all all. Go. Go. Go. I honestly don’t even know why I still write these intro paragraphs. I just do. You know the deal, right? 10 records yesterday, 10 today, 10 more tomorrow. At some point it ends. At some point it begins again. Presumably before then I’ll figure out what day it is.
Quarterly Review #71-80:
James Romig & Mike Scheidt, The Complexity of Distance
James Romig is a Pulitzer-finalist composer, and Mike Scheidt is the founding guitarist/vocalist of YOB. I refuse to cut-and-paste-pretend at understanding all the theory put into the purported ’13:14:15′ ratio of beat cycles throughout The Complexity of Distance — or, say, just about any of it — but the resulting piece is about 57 minutes of Scheidt‘s guitar work, as recorded by Billy Barnett (YOB‘s regular producer). It is presented as a single track, and with the (obviously intentional) chord progressions in Romig‘s piece, “The Complexity of Distance” is a huge drone. If you ever wanted to hear Scheidt do earlier-style Earth guitar work — yes, duh — then this might satisfy that curiosity. There’s high-culture intersecting with low here in a way that takes Scheidt out of it creatively — that is to say, Romig did the composing — but I won’t take away from the work in concept or performance, or even the result. Hell, I’ll listen to Mike Scheidt riff around for 57 minutes. It’ll be the best 57 minutes of my god damned day. Perhaps that’s not universal, but I don’t think Romig‘s looking for radio hits. Whether you approach it on that theory level or as a sonic meditation, the depths welcome you. I’d take another Scheidt solo record someday too, though. Just saying.
Copenhagen’s Mythic Sunship turned Light/Flux around so quick after 2021’s Wildfire (review here) they didn’t even have time to take a new promo photo. There is no question the Danish five-piece have been on a tear for a few years now, and their ascent into the psych-jazz fusion ether continues with Light/Flux, marrying its gotta-happen-right-this-second urgency to a patience in the actual unfolding of songs like the sax’ed out “Aurora” and the more guitar-led “Blood Moon” at the outset — light — with the cosmic triumphalist horn and crashes of “Decomposition” leading off side B and moving into the hey-where’d-you-come-from boogie of “Tempest,” presumably flux. Each half of the record ends with a standout, as “Equinox” follows “Blood Moon” with a more space rock-feeling takeoff pulse, right up to the synth sweep that starts at about 2:50, and “First Frost” gives high and low float gracefully over steady toms like different dreams happening at the same time and then merging in purpose as the not-overblown crescendo locks in. May their momentum carry them ever forward if they’re going to produce at this level.
What a fascinating direction the progression of Sweden’s Deville has taken these 15 years after Come Heavy Sleep. Heavy Lies the Crown finds the Swedish journeymen aligned to Sixteentimes Music for the follow-up to 2018’s Pigs With Gods (review here), and is through its eight tracks in a dense-toned, impact-minded 33 minutes with nary a second to spare in cuts like “Killing Time” and “Unlike You” and “A Devil Around Your Neck.” Their push and aggressive edge reminds of turn-of-the-century Swedish heavy rockers like Mustasch or Mother Misery, and even in “Hands Tied” and “Serpent Days” — the two longest cuts on Heavy Lies the Crown, appearing in succession on side A — they maintain an energy level fostered by propulsive drums and a rampant drive toward immediacy rather than flourish, but neither does the material feel rushed or unconsidered right up to the final surprising bit of spaciousness in “Pray for More,” which loosens up the throttle a bit while still holding onto an underlying chug, some last progressive angularity perhaps to hint at another stage to come. One way or the other, in craft and delivery, Deville remain reliable without necessarily being predictable, which is a rare balance to strike, particularly for a band who’ve never made the same record twice.
Guitarist/vocalist Bill Jenkins and bassist Matthew Kahn hail from Kingsnake (begat by Sugar Daddie in days of yore), drummer Michael Scarpone played in Wizard Eye, and guitarist Christopher Wojcik made a splash a few years back in King Bison, so yes, dudes have been around. Accordingly, Superdeluxe know off the bat where their grooves are headed on this five-song self-titled EP, with centerpiece “Earth” nodding toward a somewhat inevitable Clutch influence — thinking “Red Horse Rainbow” specifically — and seeming to acknowledge lyrically this as the project’s beginning point in “Popular Mechanix,” driving somewhat in the vein of Freedom Hawk but comfortably paced as “Destructo Facto” and “Severed Hand” are at the outset of the 19-minute run. “Ride” finishes out with a lead line coursing over its central figure before a stop brings the chorus, swing and swagger and a classic take on that riff — Sabbath‘s “Hole in the Sky,” Goatsnake‘s “Trower”; everybody deserves a crack at it at least once — familiar and weighted, but raw enough in the production to still essentially be a demo. Nonetheless, veteran players, new venture, fun to be had and hopefully more to come.
Based in Berlin and featuring bassist Cozza, formerly of Melbourne, Australia’s Riff Fist, alongside guitarist Moseph and drummer 666tin, Esel are an instrumentalist three-piece making their full-length debut with the live-recorded and self-produced Asinus. An eight-tracker spanning 38 minutes, it’s rough around the edges in terms of sound, but that only seems to suit the fuzz in both the guitar and bass, adding a current of noise alongside the low end being pushed through both as well as the thud of 666tin‘s toms and kick. They play fast, they play slow, they roll the wheel rather than reinvent it, but there’s charm here amid the doomier “Donkey Business” — they’ve got a lot of ‘ass’ stuff going on, including the opener “Ass” and the fact that their moniker translates from German as “donkey” — and the sprawling into maddening crashes “A Biss” later on, which precedes the minute-long finale “The Esel Way Out.” Want to guess what it is? Did you guess noise and feedback? If you did, your prize is to go back to the start and hear the crow-call letters of the band’s name and the initial slow nod of “Ass” all over again. I’m going to do my best not to make a pun about getting into it, but, well, I’ve already failed.
With riffs to spare and spacious vibes besides, London instrumentalists Blue Tree Monitor offer Cryptids, working in a vein that feels specifically born out of their hometown’s current sphere of heavy. Across the sprawl of “Siberian Sand” at the beginning of the five-song/38-minute debut album, one can hear shades of some of the Desertscene-style riffing for which Steak has been an ambassador, and certainly there’s no shortage of psych and noise around to draw from either, as the cacophonous finish manifests. But big is the idea as much as broad, and sample-topped centerpiece “Sasquatch” (also the longest cut at 8:41) is a fine example of how to do both, complete with fuzzy largesse and a succession of duly plodding-through-the-woods riffs. “Antlion” feels laid back in the guitar but contrasts with the drums, and the closer “Seven” is more straight-ahead heavy rock riffing until its second half gets a little more into noise rock before its final hits, so maybe the book isn’t entirely closed on where they’ll go sound-wise, but so much the better for listening to something with multifaceted potential in the present. To put it another way, they sound like a new band feeling their way forward through their songs, and that’s precisely what one would hope for as they move forward from here.
Vigilant in conveying the Brooklynite unit’s progressive intentions, from the synthy-sounding freakout at the end of “Wavelength Synchronizer” to the angular beginning of “Conglobulations,” Incubation is the first two-songer offering from Astrometer, who boast in their ranks members of Hull, Meek is Murder and Bangladeafy. The marriage of sometimes manically tense riffing and a more open keyboard line overhead works well on the latter track, but one would at no point accuse Astrometer of not getting their point across, and with ready-for-a-7″ efficiency, since the whole thing takes just about seven and a half minutes out of your busy day. I’m fairly sure they’ve had some lineup jumbling since this was recorded — there may be up to three former members of Hull there now, and that’s a hoot also audible in the guitars — but notice is served in any case, and the way the ascending frenetic chug of the guitar gives way to the keyboard solo in “Wavelength Synchronizer” is almost enough on its own to let you know that there’s a plan at work. See also the melodic, almost post-rock-ish floating notes above the fray at the start of “Conglobulations.” I bought the download. I’d buy a tape. You guys got tapes? Shirts?
Somewhere between a solo-project and an actual band is Oldest Sea. Led by songwriter, vocalist, multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer Sam Marandola — joined throughout the four tracks of debut EP Strange and Eternal by lead guitarist/drummer Andrew Marandola and on 10-minute closer “The Whales” by bassist Jay Mazzillo — the endeavor is atmospherically weighted and given a death-doom-ish severity through the echoing snare on “Consecration,” only after opener “Final Girl” swells in distortion and melody alike until receding for string-style ambience, which might be keyboard, might be guitar, might be cello, I don’t know. Marandola also performs as a solo folk artist and one can hear that in her approach to the penultimate “I’ll Take What’s Mine,” but in the focus on atmosphere here, as well as the patience of craft across differing methodologies in what’s still essentially an initial release — if nothing before it proves the argument, certainly “The Whales” does — one hears shades of the power SubRosa once wielded in bringing together mournful melody and doomed tradition to suit purposes drawing from American folk and post-metallic weight. At 25 minutes, I’m tempted to call it an album for its sheer substance. Instead I’ll hang back and just wait and get my hopes up for when that moment actually comes.
Based in Austria with roots in Canada, Spain and Sweden, Weddings are vocalist/guitarist Jay Brown, vocalist/drummer Elena Rodriguez and bassist Phil Nordling, and whether it’s the grunge turnaround on second cut “Hunter” or the later threatening-to-be-goth-rock of “Running Away” — paired well with “Talk is Cheap” — the trio are defined in no small part by the duet-style singing of Brown and Rodriguez. The truly fortunate part of listening to their sophomore LP, Book of Spells, is that they can also write a song. Opener “Hexenhaus” signals a willful depth of atmosphere that comes through on “Sleep” and the acoustic-led gorgeousness of “Tundra,” and so on, but they’re not shy about a hook either, as in “Greek Fire,” “Hunter,” “Running Away” and closer “Into the Night” demonstrate. Mood and texture are huge throughout Book of Spells, but the effect of the whole is duly entrancing, and the prevailing sense from their individual parts is that either Brown or Rodriguez could probably front the band on their own, but Weddings are a more powerful and entrancing listen for the work they do together throughout. Take a deep breath before you jump in here.
A classic rock spirit persists across the nine songs of The Heavy Crawls‘ sophomore full-length, Searching for the Sun, as the Kyiv-based trio of guitarist/vocalist/keyboardist Max Tovstyi, bassist/backing vocalist Serj Manernyi and drummer/backing vocalist Tobi Samuel offer nods to the likes of the Rolling Stones and Jimi Hendrix, among others, with a healthy dose of their own fuzz to coincide. The organ-laced title-track sounds like it was recorded on a stage, if it wasn’t, and no matter where the trio end up — looking at you, Sabbath-riffed “Stoner Song” — the material is tied together through the unflinchingly organic nature of their presentation. They’re not hiding anything here. No tricks. No BS. They’re writing their own songs, to be sure, but whether it’s the funky “I Don’t Know” or the languid psych rollout of “Take Me Higher” (it picks up in the second half) that immediately follows, they put everything they’ve got right up front for the listener to take in, make of it what they will, and rock out accordingly, be it to the mellow “Out of My Head” or the stomping “Evil Side (Of Rock ‘n’ Roll) or the sweet, sweet guitar-solo-plus-organ culmination of “1,000 Problems.” Take your pick, really. You’re in good hands no matter what.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 9th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
This’ll be fun. If you’ve heard those old demos — they’re on YouTube and all that — that earliest Monster Magnet stuff is noisy and experimental and raw as hell. Even as God Unknown Records announces Test Patterns: Vol. 1 to be released on Nov. 11 with a remix of “Tab” by John McBain — yes please — and the demo that first spawned the longform psych weirdness of that track-as-album’s final incarnation, the label notes that it comes from the 1989 demo, Forget About Life, I’m High on Dope. Should the whole demo be released? Yeah, probably. Will it? I don’t know. Fuck do I look like?
Fact is, that first incarnation of Monster Magnet, with Dave Wyndorf, McBain and the thankfully-archivalist Tim Cronin were kids screwing around. The noise they made, drawing from psych, kraut and space rocks, their own Jersey Shore disaffection and feedback-laced catharsis, just happened to be the key to unlocking a certain segment of the universe that was shut tight until they came along. Did they know they were doing it? Did they know that, 30-plus years later, those tapes would be getting reissued as ‘volumes’ of a band’s earliest work? Likely not. That doesn’t make it any less impressive.
Sign me up for this one. And if there’s a subscriber option for multiple volumes, I’ll take those as well. Even the teaser here sounds over the top.
Right on:
MONSTER MAGNET ANNOUNCE ‘TEST PATTERNS: VOL. 1’ TO BE RELEASED NOVEMBER 11TH VIA GOD UNKNOWN RECORDS ON 12” VINYL
Very excited to announce the return of MONSTER MAGNET’s ‘Tab’ – THE LEGENDARY PSYCHEDELIC MASTERPIECE on God Unknown Records.
Originally formed by Dave Wyndorf, John McBain and Tim Cronin, Monster Magnet lysergic oozed into the world in 1989 with two demo tapes – ‘Forget About Life, I’m High On Dope’ and ‘I’m Stoned, What Ya Gonna Do About It?’ – making it perfectly clear from the start where they were coming from. This was a band reveling in bad trips and the death of the hippy dream with a Manson Family stare, playing squelchy lo-fi psychedelic music with a rabid punk rock sneer, like The Stooges terrorising Hawkwind at the most unpleasant free festival imaginable. There were tales of entire audiences at their gigs being spiked with LSD. It didn’t matter if this was true or not, it all added to the mystique. This was indeed a satanic drug thing, you wouldn’t understand.
Long considered to be the true essence of Magnet’s early psychedelic voyages, ‘Tab’ is finally returning to earth’s stratosphere with the release of ‘Test Patterns: Vol.1’, available November 11th via God Unknown Records on 12” vinyl.
‘Test Patterns: Vol. 1’ features a 2021 remix of ‘Tab’ by John McBain, alongside the original demo, recorded in 1988 and then released on the aforementioned ‘Forget About Life, I’m High On Dope’ in 1989.
“Hawkwind, early UFO, Amon Duul, Can, Skullflower, Morgen, Loop, Crystalized Movements, early Alice Cooper, Walking Seeds, Butthole Surfers, Spacemen 3. When we recorded the first demo and got to TAB, we just beat the shit out of it until it became heavy, noisy, weird, mean and either too long or not long enough, depending on your mood. Everything we wanted in a song (at least everything I wanted in a song), punishingly psychedelic. Jersey Shore krautrock.”
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 2nd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Organ-laced heavy psychedelic classicists Ruby the Hatchet will release their fourth full-length, Fear is a Cruel Master, on Oct. 21 as their first outing through Magnetic Eye Records, with which they signed last Fall. Tonight, the five-piece will kick off a tour in Rhode Island that, starting tomorrow, will find them playing alongside Dreadnought and Elder, heralding the new record’s arrival as a crucial part of one of the summer’s best packages in the US.
To further celebrate the opening of preorders in various vinyl editions and a CD for my ’90s-worshiping ass — I want the bundle with the signed poster and the t-shirt and I want a hamburger, no, a cheeseburger, and a hot dog and (this is where Ted Knight comes in and tells me I’ll get nothing and like it) — the first streaming audio from Fear is a Cruel Master arrives with the uptempo kick of “Thruster,” an aptly-named and righteously swinging, dug-in feeling groove topped with a characteristically commanding performance from vocalist Jillian Taylor, whose comment on the record below was lifted from the signing release.
The reason for that is I haven’t gotten anything from the PR wire about the record yet — 10AM? probably; I’ll update this post when it comes in [EDIT: It did, hence the giant amount of info below.] — but I follow them on Bandcamp and the song went live at midnight. If you’re playing along at home, it’s 4:40AM Eastern right now. Perfect time to rock out. So do that. Now.
Song stream is at the bottom of this post. Enjoy:
RUBY THE HATCHET – Fear is a Cruel Master – Oct. 21, 2022
With “Fear Is a Cruel Master”, RUBY THE HATCHET deliver exactly the brain-frying, catchy yet full of raw energy thriller of an album that the American trailblazers’ acclaimed predecessor “Planetary Space Child” (2017) promised it could be.”The reflection in the mirror is nice and clear now”, guitarist Johnny Scarps nods. “This is the record we’ve been working towards.” Five long years have passed since the heavy rock quintet dropped their last album, but the wait is finally over. “We have reached a new peak of writing music as a collective”, vocalist Jillian Taylor adds. “We all sacrifice for this, like any band or artist. We would not continue doing so if we weren’t reaching new levels.”
The infectious opening track ‘The Change’ emphatically clarifies that Jillian is not just blowing smoke. For Taylor, this song captures the feeling of a transitional period – maybe somewhere between BOWIE’s ch-ch-ch-‘Changes’ and BLACK SABBATH’s going-through-‘Changes’ – yet groovier and heavier in pure RUBY THE HATCHET fashion. “It captures those feelings of shifting from this young, carefree, rock n’ roll lifestyle to getting older and trying to stay true to yourself and what you love from the wild side… while realizing not everything still serves you. The things that happen on tour, for better or worse, traveling to other countries and people are singing your songs back, that growth and camaraderie you get on the road – there is nothing else like it.”
Another lyrical angle of “Fear Is a Cruel Master” is explored through the organ-drenched rocket ride that is ‘Thruster’. With music by drummer Owen Stewart, Taylor’s lyrics recognise that today’s worldly problems are nothing new in the grand scheme of things. “The chorus, ‘Oh no, I hear them coming, tearing our lives to the ground. Oh lord, they’ve got you running, but I don’t have time for that now'”, Taylor says. “That’s trouble coming for us, but at this point, nearly everything has echoed through the ages. This is human nature. There is always something dogging us, and moral truth to consider, and we decide what we are going to do about it.”
The album title, “Fear Is a Cruel Master”, epitomizes the mood of the lockdown period in which it was written. Accustomed to working together as a group, Taylor, Scarps, Stewart, bassist Lake Muir and organist Sean Khan Hur were forced to spend more time apart than they normally would. “I was reading a lot during the pandemic and in a Branch Davidians’ testimonial I came across the phrase ‘fear is a cruel master'”, Taylor explains. “The climate at the time was full of fear, it was bleeding into everything. To us, the title resonates with being part of the music community too. It was shaky for everyone – from bands to booking agents to venues and fans. You had to really nurse that flame to keep pouring hope in the cup. Fear is a cruel master.”
Recorded at New Future in Jersey with Paul Ritchie from THE PARLOR MOB, “Fear Is a Cruel Master” wasn’t as meticulously mapped out as RUBY’s previous albums. The band purposely left space for spontaneity and magic moments. “This time we left a lot of wiggle room”, Scarps explains. “Most of the songs were fully fleshed out, but on a few we made changes in the studio at Paul’s request – he had some really fun ideas – and we tried to do things we normally would not.”
As previously announced, “Fear Is a Cruel Master” includes proper studio versions of ‘Primitive Man’ and ‘1000 Years’ from the “Live at Earthquaker” EP that RUBY dropped back in April 2022. The snaky groove of ‘Primitive Man’ comes with a message to mansplainers everywhere. “It’s about the try-hards who think they know everything and want to tell you how to do it”, Taylor says with a laugh. “It’s meant to disregard gender, but I of course wrote it from a female perspective. Everyone encounters that attitude, especially women in music.”
The indelible ‘Last Saga’ delights with Taylor and Stewart delivering a haunting duet over some of Scarps’ finest guitar work. Lyrically, the song recapitulates the theme of ‘Thruster’ under the romantic patina of a fantasy epic. “I love when we can lean into something in a timeless or medieval way, when you can travel lyrically to a thousand years ago”, Taylor says. “But it’s also about the world right now; the cyclical nature of everything, even in moments that seem final. After singing ‘Last Saga’ with Owen, I felt like our voices were two ships in the night that could find each other despite any fog or storm.”
Ultimately, the main theme of “Fear Is a Cruel Master” is self-reflection. Although these songs were forged in the crucible of world-stopping pestilence, they come with a timeless quality that transcends the moment of their creation. Everything that makes RUBY THE HATCHET such an outstanding and wildly loved act even among their peers is there – ranging from those sultry, honey-smoked vocals via lush yet crisp guitars to spirit of rock ‘n roll organ heroics. “It’s definitely an album you write after a decade’s worth of being in a band and looking back at all the things you did or didn’t do – everything that you threw into the fire, basically”, Taylor concludes. “It’s a testimony on that journey.” Embark to follow in the band’s sonic wake.
RUBY THE HATCHET live: 8/2 Providence, RI @ Alchemy ✧ 8/3 Brooklyn, NY @ Elsewhere 8/4 Philadelphia, PA @ Underground Arts 8/5 Pittsburgh, PA @ Mr. Smalls Theater 8/6 Baltimore, MD @ Metro Gallery 8/7 Charlottesville, VA @ Champion Brewing 8/8 Raleigh, NC @ The Pour House 8/9 Atlanta, GA @ The Earl 8/10 Orlando, FL @ Will’s Pub 8/12 Houston, TX @ White Oak 8/13 Austin, TX @ The Ballroom 8/14 Fort Worth, TX @ Tulips 8/16 Albuquerque, NM @ Sister Bar 8/17 Phoenix, AZ @ The Rebel Lounge 8/18 Los Angeles, CA @ Resident ✧ 8/19 San Diego, CA @ Brick By Brick ✧ 8/20 Las Vegas, NV @ Psycho ✧ All dates with Elder & Dreadnaught except ✧
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 25th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Kind of an interesting reframing happening here of Monster Magnet‘s 2007 album, 4-Way Diablo. Originally released like its exclamatory 2004 predecessor, Monolithic Baby! (discussed here), through SPV/Steamhammer, and set to issue through Napalm Records on Sept. 16, 4-Way Diablo was all but disowned for years, its making and release having coincided with founding frontman Dave Wyndorf‘s getting sober, stint in rehab, and so on. Clearly not a highlight time of the long-running New Jersey heavy rockers’ tenure, though perhaps even as its most addled, Wyndorf‘s songwriting is still unfuckwithable, and the leadoff title-track proves that handily. It ain’t Powertrip, and it ain’t Spine of God, but 4-Way Diablo still has something to offer on a fresh listen.
I had hoped that, as Monster Magnet dug back into their own catalog to reboot albums that they’d take on 4-Way Diablo and produce it as raw as possible, like barebones, band-in-garage-on-4-track demo style. Go back and listen to 1990’s Monster Magnet and that’s what I’m talking about. Even just on a lark, issued DIY or something like that, but alas. If you squint hard enough — with your ears, of course — you can hear where it would work, though I’ll readily admit that the weirder and more out-there Monster Magnet get, the better a place I think the universe gets in general. If you doubt that, return to their 2021 covers collection, A Better Dystopia (review here), or 2015’s Cobras and Fire (review here), which reworked songs from 2010’s pointedly hard rock Mastermind (review here).
In any case, not knowing what’s coming next has always been a big part of Monster Magnet‘s appeal. Four years after their most recent new studio LP, that is still very much the case.
From the PR wire:
MONSTER MAGNET to Reissue Classic Albums Monolithic Baby! and 4-Way Diablo on Limited Edition Vinyl
Physical and Digital Versions out September 16, 2022
Psychedelic rock icons MONSTER MAGNET are pleased to announce the reissue of two seminal albums in their vast discography on limited edition vinyl – 2004’s Monolithic Baby!and 2007’s 4-Way Diablo – both of which have been out of print and unavailable digitally for years! Pre-orders for both the digital and vinyl editions of both albums are available now, set for release on September 16, 2022.
MONSTER MAGNET mastermind Dave Wyndorf says about the reissues:
“It’s great to see these two albums back in circulation again. The MONSTER MAGNETuniverse isn’t complete without them! Monolithic Baby! is a big, glitzy (and purposefully cynical, but aren’t they all?) rock and roll record, and listening to it now reminds me of that time – the beginning of the 21st century. Even then I knew things were gonna get weird!
4 Way Diablo is a collection of songs I wrote between tours in the early 2000s but couldn’t find a place for. They piled up fast, and pretty soon, there was an album. It turns out there’s some of my favorite Magnet songs there!”
2004 saw the release of MONSTER MAGNET’s sixth studio album Monolithic Baby!, the follow-up to 2000’s God Says No, which cemented the Red Bank, NJ rockers in the world of space rock and roll. This 14-track journey of masterful hard rock features 11 ripping originals and three cover songs recorded in true classic Magnet style, including covers of The Velvet Underground, David Gilmour and Robert Calvert.
Monolithic Baby! is being reissued on orange vinyl with white and black splatter, as well as in a limited glow in the dark vinyl variant!
Monolithic Baby! Track listing 1. Slut Machine 2. Supercruel 3. On The Verge 4. Unbroken (Hotel Baby) 5. Radiation Day 6. Monolithic 7. The Right Stuff 8. There’s No Way Out Of Here 9. Master Of Light 10. Too Bad 11. Ultimate Everything 12. CNN War Theme
Recorded in four different studios (Sound City Studios, American Studios, The Sunset Lodge and Hydeaway Studios) throughout 2006-2007, 4-Way Diablo is the seventh offering from legendary riff masters MONSTER MAGNET. Featuring rippers such as “Wall of Fire,” “You’re Alive,” and a cover of an obscure Rolling Stones song “2000 Lightyears From Home,” 4-Way Diablo is a true gem in the MONSTER MAGNET catalog.
4-Way Diablo is being reissued on white vinyl with gold and black splatter, as well in a limited, special glow in the dark vinyl variant!
4-Way Diablo Track listing 1. 4-Way Diablo 2. Wall Of Fire 3. You’re Alive 4. Blow Your Mind 5. Cyclone 6. 2000 Light Years From Home 7. No Vacation 8. Thanks I’m Calling You 9. Solid Gold 10. Freeze And Pixillate 11. A Thousand Stars 12. Slap In the Face 13. Little Bag Of Gloom
Considered one of the most creative, diverse, and hard-rocking of contemporary American bands, MONSTER MAGNET is credited with pioneering “stoner rock”. They’re noted for the uniqueness of their sound, their authenticity as a band, their ability to grow musically, and the intelligence and wit of their songs – fusing garage rock, progressive rock, heavy metal, punk and psychedelia. In addition to musical influences, the band has always been inspired by comic book, science fiction, horror movies, and B-movies by filmmakers such as Roger Gorman and Russ Myer.
Here begins day two of 10. I don’t know at what point it occurred to me to load up the Quarterly Review with killer stuff to make it, you know, more pleasant than having it only be records I feel like I should be writing about, but I’m intensely glad I did.
Seems like a no brainer, right? But the internet is dumb, and it’s so easy to get caught up in what you see on social media, who’s hyping what, and the whole thing is driven by this sad, cloying FOMO that I despise even as I participate. If you’re ever in a situation to let go of something so toxic, even just a little bit and even just in your own head — which is where it all exists anyhow — do it. And if you take nothing else from this 100-album Quarterly Review besides that advice, it won’t be a loss.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Magnatar, Crushed
Can’t say they don’t deliver. The eight-song/38-minute Crushed is the debut long-player from Manchester, New Hampshire’s Magnatar, and it plays to the more directly aggressive side of post-metallic riffing. There are telltale quiet stretches, to be sure, but the extremity of shouts and screams in opener “Dead Swan” and in the second half of “Crown of Thorns” — the way that intensity becomes part of the build of the song as a whole — is well beyond the usual throaty fare. There’s atmosphere to balance, but even the 1:26 “Old” bends into harsh static, and the subsequent “Personal Contamination Through Mutual Unconsciousness” bounces djent and post-hardcore impulses off each other before ending up in a mega-doom slog, the lyric “Eat shit and die” a particular standout. So it goes into “Dragged Across the Surface of the Sun,” which is more even, but on the side of being pissed off, and “Loving You Was Killing Me” with its vastly more open spaces, clean vocals and stretch of near-silence before a more intense solo-topped finish. That leaves “Crushed” and “Event Horizon” to round out, and the latter is so heavy it’s barely music and that’s obviously the idea.
Three longform cosmic rock excursions comprise Wild Rocket‘s Formless Abyss — “Formless Abyss” (10:40), “Interplanetary Vibrations” (11:36) and “Future Echoes” (19:41) — so lock in your harness and be ready for when the g-forces hit. If the Dubliners have tarried in following-up 2017’s Disassociation Mechanics (review here), one can only cite the temporal screwing around taking place in “Interplanetary Vibrations” as a cause — it would be easy to lose a year or two in its depths — never mind “Future Echoes,” which meets the background-radiation drone of the two inclusions prior with a ritualized heft and slow-unfurling wash of distortion that is like a clarion to Sagan-headed weirdos. A dark-matter nebula. You think you’re freaked out now? Wild Rocket speak their own language of sound, in their own time, and Formless Abyss — while not entirely without structure — has breadth enough to make even the sunshine a distant memory.
An awaited debut full-length from Brooklyn multimedia artist/producer Brandon Gallagher, Trace Amount‘s Anti Body Language sees release through Greg Puciato‘s Federal Prisoner imprint and collects a solid 35 minutes of noise-laced harsh industrial worldbreaking. Decay anthems. A methodical assault begins with “Anxious Awakenings” and moving through “Anti Body Language” and “Eventually it Will Kill Us All,” the feeling of Gallagher acknowledging the era in which the record arrives is palpable, but more palpable are the weighted beats, the guttural shouts and layers of disaffected moans. “Digitized Exile” plays out like the ugliest outtake from Pretty Hate Machine — a compliment — and after the suitably tense “No Reality,” the six-minute “Tone and Tenor” — with a guest appearance from Kanga — offers a fuller take on drone and industrial metal, filling some of the spaces purposefully left open elsewhere. That leaves the penultimate “Pixelated Premonitions” as the ultimate blowout and “Suspect” (with a guest spot from Statiqbloom; a longtime fixture of NY industrialism) to noise-wash it all away, like city acid rain melting the pavement. New York always smells like piss in summer.
This band just keeps getting better, and yes, I mean that. Toronto’s Lammping begin an informal, casual-style series of singles with “Desert on the Keel,” the sub-four-minutes of which are dedicated to a surprisingly peaceful kind of heavy psychedelia. Multiple songwriters at work? Yes. Rhythm guitarist Matt Aldred comes to the fore here with vocals mellow to suit the languid style of the guitar, which with Jay Anderson‘s drums still giving a push beneath reminds of Quest for Fire‘s more active moments, but would still fit alongside the tidy hooks with which Lammping populate their records. Mikhail Galkin, principal songwriter for the band, donates a delightfully gonna-make-some-noise-here organ solo in the post-midsection jam before “Desert on the Keel” turns righteously back to the verse, Colm Hinds‘ bass McCartneying the bop for good measure, and in a package so welcome it can only be called a gift, Lammping demonstrate multiple new avenues of growth for their craft and project. I told you. They keep getting better. For more, dig into 2022’s Stars We Lost EP (review here). You won’t regret it.
Immediate three-part harmonies in the chorus of opener “Stealin’ Wine” set the tone for Limousine Beach‘s self-titled debut, as the new band fronted by guitarist/vocalist David Wheeler (OutsideInside, Carousel) and bringing together a five-piece with members of Fist Fight in the Parking Lot, Cruces and others melds ’70s-derived sounds with a modern production sheen, so that the Thin Lizzy-style twin leads of “Airboat” hit with suitable brightness and the arena-ready vibe in “Willodene” sets up the proto-metal of “Black Market Buss Pass” and the should-be-a-single-if-it-wasn’t “Hear You Calling.” Swagger is a staple of Wheeler‘s work, and though the longest song on Limousine Beach is still under four minutes, there’s plenty of room in tracks like “What if I’m Lying,” the AC/DC-esque “Evan Got a Job” and the sprint “Movin’ On” (premiered here) for such things, and the self-awareness in “We’re All Gonna Get Signed” adds to the charm. Closing out the 13 songs and 31 minutes, “Night is Falling” is dizzying, and leads to “Doo Doo,” the tight-twisting “Tiny Hunter” and the feedback and quick finish of “Outro,” which is nonetheless longer than the song before it. Go figure. Go rock. One of 2022’s best debut albums. Good luck keeping up.
Perfect Light is the closest Patrick Walker (also Warning) has yet come to a solo album with 40 Watt Sun, and any way one approaches it, is a marked departure from 2016’s Wider Than the Sky (review here, sharing a continued penchant for extended tracks but transposing the emotional weight that typifies Walker‘s songwriting and vocals onto pieces led by acoustic guitar and piano. Emma Ruth Rundle sits in on opener “Reveal,” which is one of the few drumless inclusions on the 67-minute outing, but primarily the record is a showcase for Walker‘s voice and fluid, ultra-subdued and mostly-unplugged guitar notes, which float across “Behind My Eyes” and the dare-some-distortion “Raise Me Up” later on, shades of the doom that was residing in the resolution that is, the latter unflinching in its longing purpose. Not a minor undertaking either on paper or in the listening experience, it is the boldest declaration of intent and progression in Walker’s storied career to-date, leaving heavy genre tropes behind in favor of something that seems even more individual.
Snagged by Heavy Psych Sounds in the early going of 2022, French rockers Decasia debut on the label with An Endless Feast for Hyenas, a 10-track follow-up to 2017’s The Lord is Gone EP (review here), making the most of the occasion of their first full-length to portray inventive vocal arrangements coinciding with classic-sounding fuzz in “Hrosshvelli’s Ode” and the spacier “Cloud Sultan” — think vocalized Earthless — the easy-rolling viber “Skeleton Void” and “Laniakea Falls.” “Ilion” holds up some scorch at the beginning, “Hyenas at the Gates” goes ambient at the end, and interludes “Altostratus” and “Soft Was the Night” assure a moment to breathe without loss of momentum, holding up proof of a thoughtful construction even as Decasia demonstrate a growth underway and a sonic persona long in development that holds no shortage of potential for continued progress. By no means is An Endless Feast for Hyenas the highest-profile release from this label this year, but think of it as an investment in things to come as well as delivery for right now.
The abiding shove of “Circle” and the more swinging “Abracadabra” begin Giant Mammoth‘s second full-length, Holy Sounds, with a style that wonders what if Lowrider and Valley of the Sun got together in a spirit of mutual celebration and densely-packed fuzz. Longer pieces “The Colour is Blue” and “Burning Man” and the lightly-proggier finale “Teisko” space out more, and the two-minute “Dust” is abidingly mellow, but wherever the Tampere, Finland, three-piece go, they remain in part defined by the heft of “Abracadabra” and the opener before it, with “Unholy” serving as an anchor for side A after “Burning Man” and “Wasteland” bringing a careening return to earth between “The Colour is Blue” and the close-out in “Teisko.” Like the prior-noted influences, Giant Mammoth are a stronger act for the dynamics of their material and the manner in which the songs interact with each other as the eight-track/38-minute LP plays out across its two sides, the second able to be more expansive for the groundwork laid in the first. They’re young-ish and they sound it (that’s not a slag), and the transition from duo to three-piece made between their first record and this one suits them and bodes well in its fuller tonality.
New Jersey trio Pyre Fyre may or may not be paying homage to their hometown of Bayonne with “Rinky Dink City,” but their punk-born fuzzy sludge rock reminds of none so much as New Orleans’ Suplecs circa 2000’s Wrestlin’ With My Ladyfriend, both the title-tracks dug into raw lower- and high-end buzztone shenanigans, big on groove and completely void of pretense. Able to have fun and still offer some substance behind the chicanery. I don’t know if you’d call it party rock — does anyone party on the East Coast or are we too sad because the weather sucks? probably, I’m just not invited — but if you were having a hangout and Pyre Fyre showed up with “Slow Cookin’,” for sure you’d let them have the two and a half minutes it takes them (less actually) to get their point across. In terms of style and songwriting, production and performance, this is a band that ask next to nothing of the listener in terms of investment are able to effect a mood in the positive without being either cloyingly poppish or leaving a saccharine aftertaste. I guess this is how the Garden State gets high. Fucking a.
Kamru, Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe
Issued on April 20, the cumbersomely-titled Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe is the debut outing from Denver-based two-piece Kamru, comprised of Jason Kleim and Ashwin Prasad. With six songs each hovering on either side of seven minutes long, the duo tap into a classic stoner-doom feel, and one could point to this or that riff and say The Sword or liken their tone worship and makeup to Telekinetic Yeti, but that’s missing the point. The point is in the atmosphere that is conjured by “Penumbral Litany” and the familiar proto-metallurgy of the subsequent “Hexxer,” prominent vocals echoing with a sense of command rare for a first offering of any kind, let alone a full-length. In the more willfully grueling “Cenotaph” there’s doomly reach, and as “Winter Rites” marches the album to its inevitable end — one imagines blood splattered on a fresh Rocky Mountain snowfall — the band’s take on established parameters of aesthetic sounds like it’s trying to do precisely what it wants. I’m saying watch out for it to get picked up for a vinyl release by some label or other if that hasn’t happened yet.
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 2nd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
New Jersey stalwarts The Atomic Bitchwax soon head abroad for a run of dates this month that will go from Freak Valley in Germany to Hellfest in France, and the trio have now announced that less than a month after that, they’ll be back for another stretch of UK and European dates between July and August, playing at Stoned From the Underground and in club shows with King Buffalo, Nebula and Pentagram on their way toward SonicBlast in Portugal.
Having recently seen this band and looking forward to doing so again at Freak Valley, I can tell you outright that they absolutely bowled me over. It had been a few years, and The Atomic Bitchwax got on stage and just destroyed. Like a straight line to kickass drawn with precision at top speed. I won’t deny anyone their favorite era of the band, but they played like an act on fire and they had a blast doing it. It was astonishing.
That’s probably enough for now. Dates follow as seen on social media:
Its on! Summer Tour 2022!!!!! UK-Europe
13.07.22 DE Osnabrück Bastard Club 14.07.22 DE Erfurt Stoned from the Underground 15.07.22 DE Wiesloch R´n P 16.07.22 DE Idar Oberstein Rock Im Daal 17.07.22 NL Deventer Burgerweeshuis + King Buffalo 18.07.22 DE Hamburg Knust 20.07.22 UK Milton Keynes The Craufurd Arms + Nebula 22.07.22 UK Birmingham Asylum 23.07.22 UK London Underworld 24.07.22 UK Bristol Exchange+Nebula 25.07.22 IRL Dublin Grand Social+Nebula 26.07.22 IRL Cork Crane Lane Theatre 27.07.22 UK Belfast Voodoo+Nebula 28.07.22 UK Huddersfield The Parish+Nebula 29.07.22 UK Manchester Breadshed 30.07.22 UK Edinburgh Bannermanns 31.07.22 UK Durham Dominion Festival 03.08.22 ITA Milano Magnolia+Pentagram 04.08.22 ITA Fortunago Birrificio Stuvenagh 05.08.22 ITA Roma Traffic Club+Pentagram 06.08.22 ITA Livorno+Pentagram 08.08.22 AT Vienna Arena+Pentagram 10.08.22 DE Düsseldorf Pitcher 11.08.22 NL Nijmegen Merleijn 13.08.22 POR Moledo Sonic Blast Festival
Previously announced June tour: Sound of Liberation proudly presents: The Atomic Bitchwax – Live 2022 16.06. (DE) Nephten – FREAK VALLEY FESTIVAL 17.06. (DE) Stuttgart – Goldmark’s 18.06. (DE) Passau – Tabakfabrik Passau 19.06. (DE) Dresden, Chemiefabrik Dresden (Chemo) 21.06. (AT) Salzburg, Rockhouse Salzburg 22.06. (DE) Nürnberg, MUZclub 23.06. (DE) Berlin, Wild At Heart 24.06. (DE) Wiesbaden, 17 years Sound of Liberation • Wiesbaden 26.06. (FR) Clisson, Hellfest Open Air Festival
The Atomic Bitchwax are: Chris Kosnik – Bass Bob Pantella – Drums Garrett Sweeny – Guitar
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 4th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Although they and I both hail from my beloved Garden State of New Jersey, it’s been long years since I last saw The Atomic Bitchwax, and since they’ll be headlining the pre-show next Thursday night at the Saint Vitus Bar in Brooklyn with support from Freedom Hawk, Valley of the Sun and Druids, I can only say that I’m looking forward to it in a special, special way. I would say the same of seeing them at Freak Valley in Germany as well on the newly announced run of European shows that will take them from that fest to Hellfest in France, but, well, next Thursday is first. I can look forward to Freak Valley after that. And I will.
The Neptunian trio continue to support their Scorpio (review here) album on Tee Pee Records, which had the misfortune of being released in Summer 2020. They’ve been out since then in the US, but these dates — and Freak Valley specifically — will mark their first shows abroad since before the pandemic. They have hinted at more dates to come for July and August, though whether that’s in the States or not, I don’t know at this time.
Whenever, wherever you get the opportunity to see them, it is worth taking advantage. Even outside of the fact that they’ve been a band for more than 20 years and nothing lasts forever, it’s a show you’re going to want to talk about afterward.
Dates follow courtesy of Sound of Liberation on Facebook:
THE ATOMIC BITCHWAX – JUNE 2022
Friends, we’re stoked to bring New Jersey’s most powerful power trio The Atomic Bitchwax over the pond this summer!
Get hyped for balls-to-the-wall rock’n’roll, smashing 60s & 70s riff rock and proto-metal. The Atomic Bitchwax deliver a unique „thunder boogie“ and finest celebration of the riff, we can’t wait!
Sound of Liberation proudly presents: The Atomic Bitchwax – Live 2022 16.06. (DE) Nephten – FREAK VALLEY FESTIVAL 17.06. (DE) Stuttgart – Goldmark’s 18.06. (DE) Passau – Tabakfabrik Passau 19.06. (DE) Dresden, Chemiefabrik Dresden (Chemo) 21.06. (AT) Salzburg, Rockhouse Salzburg 22.06. (DE) Nürnberg, MUZclub 23.06. (DE) Berlin, Wild At Heart 24.06. (DE) Wiesbaden, 17 years Sound of Liberation • Wiesbaden 26.06. (FR) Clisson, Hellfest Open Air Festival
See you there! Your SOL Crew
The Atomic Bitchwax are: Chris Kosnik – Bass Bob Pantella – Drums Garrett Sweeny – Guitar
