Heavy drone duo Droni Eye Omi will make their debut on March 7 with the two-song full-length, Liminal Mass. Carving a place for itself with mountainous tonality and a drumless, often-howling expanse, it’s being released through Desert Records, whose Brad Frye (also Red Mesa) comprises half the lineup alongside flamenco guitarist Ronaldo Baca, and as you’ll see in the release info below, they go so far as to call it a “migration to thyself.”
Anybody remember Inner Space? Go look it up if you’re under 40. Or better, don’t.
“Chromosphere” (29:53) and “Black Flare” (14:13) make up the record, and as a new project, it drones hard. Very definitely self-aware in the Earth 2 nod, and I mean, we’re talking about interwoven layers of guitar noise as a genre, so a given listener might hear all kinds of things in the reaches of the material. I can’t say I’m all the way on board with the band’s decision to keep the release 100-percent free of flamenco guitar (not even a little?), but they’re just getting started and have a clear and expressive purpose as showcased in these initial audio slabs. Both tracks are hypnotic and meditative, but not actually still.
The opener and longer of the two (immediate points) is of course awash in distortion, but it writhes in that, one guitar howling and feeding back as they push toward the 10-minute mark while the other sets a foreboding backing ambience, soon to join a building fray. There are notes, held, distinct, but Baca (who also mixed and mastered) and Frye are exploring here as well, and the sense of improv — a palpable ethic of “let’s try this” overarching the songs — adds to the motion of the listening experience. As destinations go, “thyself” may or may not be a place you want to end up, but terms of being transportive in sound, Liminal Mass is no lightweight.
And this gets us a little closer to understanding what the mission behind the instrumentalist search here actually is. “Black Flare” feels stately and is a little more patient in its unfolding, changing less but still oozing into a resonant wail before letting go to a more subdued ending, but it’s heavy, and that’s a distinguishing feature. Droni Eye Omi are of course not the first to make drone feel oppressive, but Liminal Mass feels like a counterpoint to trends toward floatier sounds. Just because it’s ethereal doesn’t mean it can’t feel like it’s collapsing your sternum.
One more distinguishing feature? No pretense about it. Frye and Baca made the thing in a day, recorded live — they even had a light show to ritualize the mood — and clearly aren’t going for the SunnO)))-style drone metal avant-garde positioning in naming the project like they were a bong metal band. This character is something one doesn’t often encounter with drone: fun. And in the context of the tube-burning noise Droni Eye Omi are making throughout what might be the beginning of a broader journey with heft to spare in terms of style, somehow the admission that they might actually have enjoyed the process of putting the album together feels daring. Drone is weird. So is life. If you’re still reading, so is thyself in all likelihood. Might as well have a good time with it.
“Chromosphere” — duly scorching — premieres on the player below, followed by the PR wire background on the project as mentioned above.
Take a breath, open your mind, and enjoy:
DRONI EYE OMI – Debut album ‘Liminal Mass’ releases via Desert Records on March 7th, 2025.
Two guitars, one from Brad Frye (Red Mesa and Desert Records founder) and a second one from Ronaldo Baca (renowned New Mexican gypsy jazz band Swing Magique and flamenco guitarist) bring you a dense electric guitar drone mixed with psych and space minimalism, and meditative heaviness.
However, desert/stoner rock or gypsy jazz/flamenco this is not!
This is true drone and minimalism inspired by Lamonte Young’s “Composition 1960 No. 7” and Earth’s “Earth 2”.
The band takes these primary influences and sends them straight to the cosmos.
Take a journey to the outer realms of your inner thoughts and sentiments. Droni Eye Omi are the cosmopilots that steer the celestial cruiser of sound into the vast universe of your mind.
Fear not of uncertainty, for nothing is certain with the settling of souls, here and beyond. Hear not the redundant questions of man, but experience the answers known to sound and vibration. Let the high voltage guitars rumble your chest and rattle your ears to an intoxicating sphere of bliss and realization.
You are on a migration to thyself!
CREDITS Recorded by Droni Eye Omi with a Tascam Model 12 on 5/31/2024 at Bingo Studios in Albuquerque, NM. Mixed and Mastered by Ronaldo Baca at Orange Cat Studios Album cover by Diogo Soares
[Click play above to stream Blue Heron’s Everything Fades in full. The album is out Sept. 27 on Blues Funeral Recordings. The band play Ripplefest Texas on Sept. 20.]
The second full-length from Albuquerque’s Blue Heron begins, of course, with a science lecture. Okay not quite. Lead cut “Null Geodesic” unfolds with a snippet about or responding to or by theoretical physicist Richard Feynman, and before it evaporates into echoing trails a few seconds later, it reminds the listener that science is based on observation. Fair enough. One might observe a similarity in concept behind the title of Everything Fades — the four-piece’s second album — and their first, 2022’s Ephemeral (review here). Accordingly, since when in side A’s “Swansong” frontman Jadd Shickler declares, “I’m running out of legends and I’m sick of saying goodbye,” the hardest thing to know is which legend he’s talking about (I’d guess Mark Lanegan, but feel free to make your own pick), it feels safe on a scientific level to note the continued relevance of the theme.
Joined in the band by guitarist Mike Chavez, bassist Steve Schmidlapp and drummer Ricardo Sanchez, Shickler is a significant presence in the material as he is in the broader heavy underground. Like Chavez, he formerly featured in Spiritu, and in addition to founding Blues Funeral Recordings and serving as label boss for Magnetic Eye Records, he’s one of the two founders of the defunct imprint MeteorCity, and arguably somebody who has been part of shaping heavy rock as it is today on a level few others could claim as their own.
He’s not writing songs about it, so it’s not all directly relevant to Everything Fades, but he’s someone I’ve known for 20 years, give or take, and one can hear in the included nine-tracks/38-minutes a conversation happening with the modern sphere — you’ll recall the band took part in RippleMusic‘s split series with last year’s Turned to Stone Ch. 8 (review here), sharing a platter with now-on-Magnetic–Eye Texas rockers High Desert Queen; the coursing, grunge-nodding progression of “Clearmountain” on Everything Fades would seem to show some effect of that — as Blue Heron build on the accomplishments of their debut.
And Everything Fades very much does that. “Null Geodesic” serves double-duty as a proper opener and an album-intro, and its sub-three-minute run recalls the interludes from the prior long-player but is more of a song despite a simpler structure where the heavy middle establishes the desert-hued tonal heft to come, brings the first gritty vocal echoes and balances impact and atmosphere. Much of Everything Fades feels tighter-wrought than Ephemeral, and part of that may just be that “Null Geodesic” is backed by the four-and-a-half-minute title-track instead of a 13-minute jam-out, but there’s no lack of expanse carried in the sound either way.
Tonally rich, Chavez‘s guitar and Schmidlapp‘s bass intertwine fluidly over the emphatic march of Sanchez‘s drumming as “Everything Fades” moves toward its pedal-click volume burst, and Shickler‘s guttural take recalls some of Neil Fallon‘s throatier moments but proves malleable in the more melodically-focused “Swansong,” which includes backing harmonies, and side B’s aforementioned “Clearmountain” as well as the penultimate “Bellwether,” which ties it all together with a particularly heavy push near the finish, ready to give over to 1:17 instrumental capper/outro “Flight of the Heron.”
This evolved approach corresponds with an instrumentalist breadth that manifests a crushing lumber on centerpiece “Dinosaur” at the start of side B, an immersive roll through “Swansong” and others, and a bluesy psychedelic turn in the sans-vocal “Trepidation,” which scorches in spacious lead guitar over Sanchez‘s steady thud until it fades out. As a whole, then, Blue Heron present a more dynamic take across Everything Fades, and do not draw needlessly stark lines between elements in their blend of microgenres. When “Flight of the Heron” kicks in with a riff that feels as purely Kyussian as desert rock could to be — Sanchez‘s soon-arriving drums give a more urgent edge to that — that point of arrival is earned all the more by the swath of ground the band have covered in getting there.
Be it in the tense thud and crawl of the first half of “We Breathe Darkness” that resolves in a consuming, fluid sprawl of distortion, or in the stomp of “Dinosaur,” which revels in its stomp and is one several showpieces for Sanchez besides, or Shickler‘s higher-register reach in the apex of “Bellwether,” Blue Heron find ways to underscore their development as a band over the last several years, without either making Everything Fades about that more than its own songs or letting the material stray too far from where they want it to go. This self-awareness is a strength in terms of their craft and aesthetic purposes, and the album is able to cast itself as a front-to-back journey in part because of it. There may be a lot going on at any given point, and variety is given to structure as well as volume throughout — and not just with what’s a ‘song’ and what’s an interlude — but Everything Fades is cohesive and directed, and boasts a depth of mix that affects the listening experience, whether they’re going all-out and not.
Spiritu never got to put out a follow-up to their 2002 self-titled, and some of what Blue Heron do is directly inherited from Chavez and Shickler‘s work in that outfit, but not all of it. Certainly a powerhouse rhythm section, modern production, and greater stylistic range make a difference, and these are aspects of Blue Heron that come to light throughout Everything Fades in relation to its own predecessor. As the band dig further into their songwriting modus, they seem to find more that works, and even if the pieces included are shorter on average, they’re allowed more impact for that individually while feeding into the overarching flow that, like the movement in “Bellwether” from mellow, tom-backed sandy brooding into a vibrant, hard-hitting course, comes across as organic. At no point does Everything Fades feel forced to go somewhere it doesn’t want to, and much to Blue Heron‘s credit, “Flight of the Heron” resists the temptation to undo its impact with cleverness and ends cold.
To bottom line it, while Ephemeral saw Blue Heron setting forth with an idea of who they were and the kind of music they wanted to make, Everything Fades magnifies that exponentially and is therefore an greater showing of potential for continued growth. Without pretense, they align to an expanded definition of what desert rock is, and in fostering a more varied persona across these songs, they sound ready to add to it. Speaking scientifically, the record kicks ass.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 16th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Set to appear among the hordes in the enviable lineup for this year’s Ripplefest Texas, the Jadd Shickler-fronted — formerly of Spiritu, best known for his work with Blues Funeral Recordings, Magnetic Eye, ex-Meteorcity, and so on — heavy rockers from Albuquerque will issue their second full-length, Everything Fades. The band are rolling out the title-track — and I do mean rolling — to coincide with the album’s announcement, and the song’s gritty hook should pique the interest of anyone who caught onto the band’s 2022 debut, Ephemeral (review here) or the 2023 split they issued with High Desert Queen, Turned to Stone Ch. 8: The Wake (review here) last year.
I guess the theme of ephemerality is still represented in the new record’s title and lead single, and fair enough. The fleeting nature of reality as we experience it hasn’t dulled any in the last two years, and from where I sit, a sludge-blues-desert-rocking nod such as that on offer here is worth embracing while you can. I haven’t heard the record yet, so can’t comment on other shenanigans, but if you can dig it, by all means, dig it.
This info is from Bandcamp. I expect a proper press release in the inbox about 30 seconds after it gets posted [actually, I waited for it — ed.]. So it goes. If you have the art and song and release date and you can get to Bandcamp for preorders, you probably have what you need anyway, and I say that as a dude who writes band bios on the (too) regular:
New Mexico heavy rockers BLUE HERON announce new album “Everything Fades” on Blues Funeral Recordings; stream title track now!
Albuquerque, New Mexico’s desert rock torchbearers BLUE HERON have announced the release of their new studio album “Everything Fades” on September 27th through Blues Funeral Recordings. Listen to the debut single and title track on all streaming services today!
BLUE HERON expand on their unyielding desert sound with a new slab of propulsive, sun-scorched riff-heaviness. “Everything Fades” finds the band reveling in low-tuned roil and amplifier hum, churning out swerving grooves as if the primordial spirit of the desert itself compels them.
Balanced between laid-back, meditative atmospherics and heavier, more aggressive lunges, BLUE HERON’s cruising jams and gritty stoner romps call to mind echoes of Kyuss, Clutch and Monster Magnet, as well as modern contemporaries Valley of the Sun and Greenleaf. Full of rhythmic intensity, sledgehammer riffing, and vocals ranging from clean and moody to howling and raw, “Everything Fades” covers a wide expanse of musical ground that shows how familiar influences can always be molded into inventive, exciting new forms.
The album will be issued on vinyl, CD digipack and digital formats on September 27th, with preorders available now via Blues Funeral Recordings.
Tracklisting: 1. Null Geodesic 2. Everything Fades 3. Swansong 4. We Breathe Darkness 5. Dinosaur 6. Trepidation 7. Clearmountain 8. Bellwether 9. Flight of the Heron
Blue Heron coalesced in 2018 around a compulsion to fill the wide New Mexico skies with massive volume, and saturate their piece of desert with thunderous riffs, drums that pummel and swing, deep, thrumming tones and vocals that rip and roar. Based in Albuquerque, New Mexico, their firsthand relationship with the desert is inextricable from who they are and how they sound.
BLUE HERON is Mike Chavez – Guitars Ricardo Sanchez – Drums Steve Schmidlapp – Bass Jadd Shickler – Vocals
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 28th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
The information you want — i.e., the tour dates — is in the tour posters, but as you can see there, what’s happening is that Desert Records denizens Red Mesa (from Albuquerque) and Sorcia (from Seattle) are both going on tour in August, and for part of each run, the tours will combine.
Got it? So they’re not touring the entire time together, but they’re hooking up for a leg as part of each’s broader stint up and down the West Coast/inland. Lacking a good word for it is how you get to “intertwining” in the headline. I could’ve gone with “conjoined” or “joint,” but I felt like either of those would mean it’d be the two of them the whole time — you can see in the images Sorcia actually have more shows with Tigers on Opium, and both they and Red Mesa will share the stage with a bunch of others in the sphere of Desert Records along the way — whereas “intertwining” at least in my head implies joining with something else from a more solitary state.
And I’m sorry to get sidetracked on language here — I should be dropping review links, right? isn’t that how it goes? like someone’s gonna click that? — but I find words interesting and it’s nice to have an idea what to call a thing when it happens. If you have any other suggestions, hit the comments and please let me know.
Otherwise, the tour(s) announcement(s) follow here, courtesy of the reliably-paradigm-shifting PR wire:
RED MESA / SORCIA TOUR
Two of Desert Record’s power trios RED MESA and SORCIA, have announced their respective Western U.S. tours for August 2024. The bands will support each other on a leg from ALBUQUERQUE-SEATTLE.
A multitude of Desert Records bands will support including Nebula Drag, Dali’s Llama, The Penitent Man, Spliffripper, Grim Earth, Droneroom, Breath, Doors to No Where, and Fuzz Evil.
“We’ve been talking about doing a full Western US tour for years…and it is FINALLY happening! We couldn’t be more stoked to do the Albuquerque to Seattle leg with our dear friends Sorcia. As we support our latest album, ‘Partial Distortions’ we will be bringing the heavy desert rock to your city!” – Red Mesa
“We are very excited to announce that we are getting back on the road for another Western US Tour this August! For the first half we will be hitting the West Coast joined by our dear friends, Portland rippers Tigers On Opium. For the second half we will be linking up with our amazing Desert Records labelmates Red Mesa as we make our way through the desert and up through the Rockies, where we will end the tour by hosting them in Seattle for our tour homecoming. We are looking forward to hitting some new towns on this tour, and we have some killer bands lined up to support these shows, so stay tuned for individual show details. See you on the road!” – Sorcia
Red Mesa tour poster by Joey Rudell of Fuzz Evil / Sorcia tour poster art by Misanthropic-Art (poster layout by Jessica Brasch).
Red Mesa is: Brad Frye – Rhythm and Lead Guitars, Lead and Backing Vocals Roman Barham – Drums, Lead and Backing Vocals Alex Cantwell – Bass Guitar, Lead and Backing Vocals, Additional Rhythm Guitars, Piano
Albuquerque desert metallers Red Mesa will release their fourth album, Partial Distortions, on April 19 through guitarist/vocalist Brad Frye‘s Desert Records with a Euro pressing on Majestic Mountain, and it is nothing less than the point at which they find their sound. The blend of grueling sludge and uptempo earthy groove on opener/longest track (immediate points) “ÓDR” shows a character that both 2020’s The Path to the Deathless (review here) and the follow-up willful-aural-divergence of the single “Forest Cathedral” (review here) hinted toward, but the balance between nod and aggression, the density of the atmosphere emerged from the tones, and the sense of the band having genuinely dug into their own approach are all palpable across an album that I can’t stop thinking of as a point of arrival. As potential realized.
That’s before you get to the Soundgardenery of “The Assertion” or the suitable roll and more forceful chug of “Desert March,” and, sitting back there waiting for you all the while, closer “Witching Hour,” which premieres today. Hints of a blend of doom, rock, metal and maybe even hardcore that reminds of Solace‘s brooding moments is met with a multi-layer vocal and an explosive back and forth in the hook that is worthy of the album it caps. The thing’s not our for two months, so I don’t want to sit here and review it before anyone’s ready. Think of this as me sharing a song I think you might dig in a spirit of friendship and a hope for making your day, week, whatever, better.
There’s a press quote from me floating around with the album. I was asked to give one and did, pretty straightforward. As a rule, I don’t run press quotes, even my own, because I should be having my own opinions instead of cutting and pasting someone else’s, but I’ll just say I stand by what I put there. This is a new level for the band. And there’s a lot to say about consistency in lineup, expanded input from the rhythm section in the writing process, exploring different sides of one’s personal influences, on and on. I’ll hope to have more to come as we get closer to the release.
“Witching Hour” premieres below. Partial Distortions is out April 19.
Enjoy:
Red Mesa on “Witching Hour”:
“This is our foreboding tale inspired by the creepier elements of Stephen King’s “Pet Cemetery”. The closing track is heavy and dark with Alex taking the lead on vocals. Musically, the song consists of two sections that were organically brought together. The first half of the song consists of two riffs that Brad showed Roman and they recorded it into the voice memos of an Iphone in early 2021. The second half showcases a huge riff that Alex had been keeping in his back pocket for 20 years. Once the ending riff was worked out, the song came together quickly. We have been adding this song to our live setlists and is quickly becoming a staple.”
‘Partial Distortions’ shows a powerful return of the Albuquerque, NM heavy desert rock trio Red Mesa with their fourth full-length. The album will be released on April, 19th 2024 via Desert Records (North America) and Majestic Mountain Records (Europe).
This 6-track album features the same lineup from their 2020 release ‘The Path to the Deathless’ and the 2022 single ‘Forest Cathedral’.
The record shows further collaboration between band members as guitarist/vocalist Brad Frye, bassist/vocalist Alex Cantwell, and drummer/vocalist Roman Barham all contributed musically and lyrically throughout the album.
Red Mesa has been leading the new generation of desert rock by proving that the genre is capable of greater expanses. The trio has expanded their signature heavy desert sound on ‘Partial Distortions’ to include more doom and sludge metal moments. “Blackened desert” sound collages and an overall doomier and downright frightening musical path will confront the listener, as the album is darker musically and thematically. All whilst still dwelling within an optimism that instills hope that amongst the loss, the tragic endings, and the suffering that this existence brings, that life is still worth living.
Album cover gouache painting by Marco Blasphemator. Gatefold and back cover photos by Hayley Harper. Graphics and Layout by Dave Walsh.
Recorded by Augustine Ortiz at the Decibel Foundry in Santa Fe, NM in December 2022. Recorded and mixed by Matthew Tobias at Empty House Studio in Albuquerque, NM in April, June, August, & October 2023. Mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege in Portland, OR in October 2023.
Tracklisting: 1. ÓDR 2. The Assertion 3. Dying in the Cold Sun 4. 12 Volt Shaman 5. Desert March 6. Witching Hour
Red Mesa is: Brad Frye – Rhythm and Lead Guitars, Lead and Backing Vocals Roman Barham – Drums, Lead and Backing Vocals Alex Cantwell – Bass Guitar, Lead and Backing Vocals, Additional Rhythm Guitars, Piano
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 1st, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Albuquerque-based trio Red Mesa laid a foundation for themselves in straight-ahead, gruff-but-not-necessarily-aggro desert-style heavy rock, and their 2022 standalone track, “Forest Cathedral” (review here, also streaming below), pivoted toward more of a classically doomed style — think Cathedral the band as well as things grandiose and churchy. Partial Distortions, which is the band’s fourth full-length and was recorded over nearly a year’s span, has been in discussion from Red Mesa for at least a year now, and they seem to hint below that the album continues to expand on where Red Mesa started out, which has kind of been their thing all along. Gradual, organic evolution.
Check out Majestic Mountain getting involved for the Euro release, while of course the North American edition will be handed by guitarist/vocalist Brad Frye‘s Desert Records, which much like the band has seen its definitions of ‘desert’ and ‘heavy’ willfully broadened. I do not think that’s a coincidence, and I do look forward to having more to come on the album before it’s out in April. There’s a premiere in the works for sometime between now and then, anyhow.
From the PR wire:
Red Mesa announce new fourth full-length album ‘Partial Distortions’ to be released on April 19th, 2024.
‘Partial Distortions’ shows a powerful return of the Albuquerque, NM heavy desert rock trio Red Mesa.
Desert Records will release the album on limited edition Vinyl LP, CD, and Cassette in North America and on digital download/streaming platforms worldwide.
“Red Mesa bring their signature heavy desert sound with more doom and sludge metal!” – Desert Records
Majestic Mountain Records will release a limited edition vinyl LP in Europe.
“It is an honor for Majestic to be involved in the release of Red Mesa’s excellent new album!’ – Marco Berg/Majestic Mountain Records
Presale will begin in mid-February.
—
The 6-track album features the same lineup from their 2020 release ‘The Path to the Deathless’ and the 2022 single ‘Forest Cathedral’.
‘Partial Distortions’ shows further collaboration between band members as guitarist/vocalist Brad Frye, bassist/vocalist Alex Cantwell, and drummer/vocalist Roman Barham all contributed musically and lyrically throughout the album. Red Mesa employs a three vocal attack as all band members share vocal duties.
The trio has expanded their signature heavy desert sound on ‘Partial Distortions’ to include more doom and sludge metal moments. “Blackened desert” sound collages and an overall doomier and downright frightening musical path will confront the listener, as the album is darker musically and thematically. All whilst still dwelling within an optimism that instills hope that amongst the loss, the tragic endings, and the suffering that this existence brings, that life is still worth living.
Recorded by Augustine Ortiz at the Decibel Foundry in Santa Fe, NM in December 2022.
Recorded and mixed by Matthew Tobias at Empty House Studio in Albuquerque, NM in April, June, August, & October 2023.
Mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege in Portland, OR in October 2023.
Red Mesa is: Brad Frye – Rhythm and Lead Guitars, Lead and Backing Vocals Roman Barham – Drums, Lead and Backing Vocals Alex Cantwell – Bass Guitar, Lead and Backing Vocals, Additional Rhythm Guitars, Piano
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 1st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
It’s kind of funny while also horrifying to think that post-metal, as a style, has been around for about 20 years. The fifth full-length from Albuquerque trio Distances, called Abstruse, is set to arrive on Jan. 19, and across its 10-song/40-minute span, it recalls the formative period of the aesthetic, with a worth-mentioning-twice crush in its tone and a churn that recalls when outfits like Isis, Rosetta and Mouth of the Architect (among others) seemed to be and arguably were at the forefront of a generational wave. Whatever volume you can give Abstruse when the time comes, it will have earned it, but in pieces like the piano-led “Contralateral,” the synth-drone “Passage” and even in the break before the blasting starts in “Empty Prose,” there is of course an atmospheric mindset being employed in conjunction with all that churning intensity.
These guys have been going since at least 2011, so I’m definitely not early to the party, but as my first experience hearing them, Distances‘ concrete bludgeon mostly benefits from the short runtimes of the record’s component pieces, the band refusing to stay in one place for too long while still giving each statement the breadth warranted. On headphones, it is engrossing if you let it be, and well represented by the magnetic-field iconography of the cover. To be sure, there are mysterious, iron-born electric forces at work here. For a sampler, the animated lyric video for first single “Two Thirty” is streaming below.
From the PR wire:
Albuquerque post-metal trio, Distances, to release LP “Abstruse” 1/19/2024
Albuquerque trio, Distances, pushes forward with post-metal weight while still keeping one foot in atmospheric headiness on “Abstruse”, an album diving headlong into the hypocrisy, obscurity, and contradictions woven into the knots of life. Crushing sonics are accompanied by heavy themes for those willing to claw deeper, where melancholic and contemplative valleys sit between towering, crushing mountain passages.
Available on Digital, CD, and Vinyl 1/19/2024. Pre-orders available 11/17/2023.
Welcome back to the Summer 2023 Quarterly Review. I hope you enjoyed the weekend. Today we dig in on the penultimate — somehow my using the word “penultimate” became a running gag for me in Quarterly Reviews; I don’t know how or why, but I think it’s funny — round of 10 albums and tomorrow we’ll close out as we hit the total of 70. Could easily have kept it going through the week, but so it goes. I’ll have more QR in September or October, I’m not sure yet which. It’s a pretty busy Fall.
Today’s a wild mix and that’s what I was hoping for. Let’s go.
Quarterly Review #51-60:
Weite, Assemblage
Founded by bassist Ingwer Boysen (also High Fighter) as an offshoot of the live incarnation of Delving, of which he’s part, Weite release the instrumental Assemblage as a semi-improv-sounding collection of marked progressive fluidity. With Delving and Elder‘s Nick DiSalvo and Mike Risberg in the lineup along with Ben Lubin (Lawns), the story goes that the four-piece got to the studio with nothing/very little, spent a few days writing and recording with the venerable Richard Behrens helming, and Assemblage‘s four component pieces are what came out of it. The album begins with the nine-minutes-each pair of the zazzy-jazzy mover “Neuland,” while “Entzündet” grows somewhat more open, a lead guitar refrain like built around drum-backed drone and keys, swelling in piano-inclusive volume like Crippled Black Phoenix, darker prog shifting into a wash and more freaked-out psych rock. I’m not sure those are real drums on “Rope,” or if they are I’d love to know how the snare was treated, but the song’s a groover just the same, and the 14-minute “Murmuration” is where the styles unite under an umbrella of warm tonality and low key but somehow cordial atmosphere. If these guys want to get together every couple years into perpetuity and bang out a record like this, that’d be fine.
The fourth album from Portland, Oregon’s Mizmor — the solo-project of multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, producer, vocalist, etc.-ist A.L.N. — arrives riding a tsunami of hype and delivers on the band’s long-stated promise of ‘wholly doomed black metal.’ With consuming distortion at its heart from opener/longest track (immediate points) “Only an Expanse” onward, the record recalls the promise of American black metal as looser in its to-tenet conformity than the bulk of Europe’s adherents — of course these are generalizations and I’m no expert — by contrasting it rhythmically with doom, which instead of fully releasing the tension amassed by the scream-topped tremolo riffing just makes it sound more miserable. Doom! “No Place to Arrive” is admirably thick, like noisy YOB on charred ambience, and “Anything But” draws those two sides together in more concise and driving style, vicious and brutal until it cuts in the last minute to quiet minimalism that makes the slam-in crush of 13-minute closer “Acceptance” all the more punishing, with plenty of time left for trades between all-out thrust and grueling plod. Hard to call which side wins the day — and that’s to Mizmor‘s credit, ultimately — but by the end of “Acceptance,” the raging gnash has collapsed into a caldera of harsh sludge, and it no longer matters. In context, that’s a success.
With a couple quick drum taps and a clearheaded strum that invokes the impossible nostalgia of Bruce Springsteen via ’90s alt rock, Netherlands-based The Whims of the Great Magnet strolls casually into “Same New,” the project’s first outing since 2021’s Share My Sun EP. Working in a post-grunge style seems to suit Sander Haagmans, formerly the bassist of Sungrazer and, for a bit, The Machine, as he single-track/double-tracks through the song’s initial verse and blossoms melodically in the chorus, dwelling in an atmosphere sun-coated enough that Haagmans‘ calls it “your new summer soundtrack.” Not arguing, if a one-track soundtrack is a little short. After a second verse/chorus trade, some acoustic weaves in at the end to underscore the laid back feel, and as it moves into the last minute, “Same New” brings back the hook not to drive it into your head — it’s catchy enough that such things aren’t necessary — but to speak to a traditional structure born out of classic rock. It does this organically, with moderate tempo and a warm, engaging spirit that, indeed, evokes the ideal images of the stated season and will no doubt prove comforting even removed from such long, hot and sunny days.
German instrumentalists Sarkh follow their 2020 full-length, Kaskade, with the four-song/31-minute Helios EP, issued through Worst Bassist Records. As with that album, the short-ish offering has a current of progressive metal to coincide with its heavier post-rock affect; “Zyklon” leading off with due charge before the title-track finds stretches of Yawning Man-esque drift, particularly as it builds toward a hard-hitting crescendo in its second half. Chiaroscuro, then. Working shortest to longest in runtime, the procession continues with “Kanagawa” making stark volume trades, growing ferocious but not uncontrolled in its louder moments, the late low end particularly satisfying as it plays off the guitar in the final push, a sudden stop giving 11-minute closer “Cape Wrath” due space to flesh out its middle-ground hypothesis after some initial intensity, the trio of guitarist Ralph Brachtendorf, bassist Falko Schneider and drummer Johannes Dose rearing back to let the EP end with a wash but dropping the payoff with about a minute left to let the guitar finish on its own. Germany, the world, and the universe: none of it is short on instrumental heavy bands, but the purposeful aesthetic mash of Sarkh‘s sound is distinguishing and Helios showcases it well to make the argument.
A 2LP second long-player from mostly-traditionalist doom metallers Spiritual Void, Wayfare seems immediately geared toward surpassing their 2017 debut, White Mountain, in opening with “Beyond the White Mountain.” With a stretch of harsher vocals to go along with the cleaner-sung verses through its 8:48 and the metal-of-eld wail that meets the crescendo before the nodding final verse, they might’ve done it. The subsequent “Die Alone” (11:48) recalls Candlemass and Death without losing the nod of its rhythm, and “Old” (12:33) reaffirms the position, taking Hellhound Records-style methodologies of European trad doom and pulling them across longer-form structures. Following “Dungeon of Nerthus” (10:24) the shorter “Wandering Doom” (5:31) chugs with a swing that feels schooled by Reverend Bizarre, while “Wandersmann” (13:11) tolls a mournful bell at its outset as though to let you know that the warm-up is over and now it’s time to really doom out. So be it. At a little over an hour long, Wayfare is no minor undertaking, but for what they’re doing stylistically, it shouldn’t be. Morose without melodrama, Wayfare sees Spiritual Void continuing to find their niche in doom, and rest assured, it’s on the doomier end. Of doom.
Even when The River make the trade of tossing out the aural weight of doom — the heavy guitar and bass, the expansive largesse, and so on — they keep the underlying structure. The nod. At least mostly. To explain: the long-running UK four-piece — vocalist Jenny Newton, guitarist Christian Leitch (formerly of 40 Watt Sun), bassist Stephen Morrissey and drummer Jason Ludwig — offer a folkish interpretation of doom and a doomed folk on their fourth long-player, the five-song/40-minute A Hollow Full of Hope taking the acoustic prioritizing of a song like “Open” from 2019’s Vessels into White Tides (review here) and bringing it to the stylistic fore on songs like the graceful opener “Fading,” the lightly electric “Tiny Ticking Clocks” rife with strings and gorgeous self-harmonizing from Newton set to an utterly doomed march, or the four-minute instrumental closer “Hollowful,” which is more than an outro if not a completely built song in relation to the preceding pieces. Melodic, flowing, intentional in arrangement, meter, melody. Sad. Beautiful. “Exits” (9:56) and “A Vignette” (10:26) — also the two longest cuts, though not by a ton — are where one finds that heft and the other side of the doom-folk/folk-doom divide, though it is admirable how thin they make that line. Marked progression. This album will take them past their 25th anniversary, and they greet it hitting a stride. That’s an occasion worth celebrating.
Sons of Froglord is the fourth full-length in three years from UK amphibian conceptualist storytellers Froglord, and there’s just about no way they’re not making fun of space rock on “Road Raisin.” “Collapse” grows burly in its hook in the vein of a more rumbling Clutch — and oh, the shenanigans abound! — and there’s a kind of ever-present undercurrent sludgy threat in the more forward push of the glorious anthem to the inanity of career life in “Wednesday” (it doesn’t materialize, but there is a tambourine on “A Swamp of My Own,” so that’s something), but the bulk of the latest chapter in the Froglord tale delivers ’70s-by-way-of-’10s classic heavy blues rock, distinct in its willingness to go elsewhere from and around the boogie swing of “Wizard Gonk” and the fuzzy shuffling foundation of “Garden” at the outset and pull from different eras and subsets of heavy to serve their purposes. “Froglady” is on that beat. On it. And the way “A Swamp of My Own” opens to its chorus is a stirring reminder of the difference drumming can make in elevating a band. After a quick “Closing Ceremony,” they tack on a presumably-not-narrative-related-but-fitting-anyway cover of Creedence Clearwater Revival‘s “Born on the Bayou,” which complements a crash-laced highlight like “The Sage” well and seems to say a bit about where Froglord are coming from as well, i.e., the swamp.
Released digitally with the backing of Abraxas and on CD through Smolder Brains Records, the Cult of Devil Sounds split EP offers two new tracks each from São Paulo, Brazil’s Weedevil and Veraruz, Mexico’s Electric Cult. The former take the A side and fade in on the guitar line “Darkness Inside” with due drama, gradually unfurling the seven-minute doom roller that’s ostensibly working around Electric Wizard-style riffing, but has its own persona in tone, atmosphere and the vocals of Maureen McGee, who makes her first appearance here with the band. The swagger of “Burn It” follows, somewhat speedier and sharper in delivery, with a scorcher solo in its back half, witchy proclamations and satisfying slowdown at the end. Weedevil. All boxes ticked, no question. Check. Electric Cult are rawer in production and revel in that, bringing “Rising From Hell” and “Esoteric Madness” with a more uptempo, rock-ish swing, but moving through sludge and doom by the time the seven minutes of the first of those is done. “Rising From Hell” finishes with ambient guitar, then feedback, which “Esoteric Madness” cuts off to begin with bass; a clever turn. Quickly “Esoteric Madness” grows dark from its outset, pushing into harsh vocals over a slogging march that turns harder-driving with ’70s-via-Church–of–Misery hard-boogie rounding out. That faster finish is a contrast to Weedevil‘s ending slow, and complements it accordingly. An enticing sampler from both.
When I read some article about how the James Webb Space Telescope has looked billions of years into the past chasing down ancient light and seen further toward the creation of the universe than humankind ever before has, I look at some video or other, I should be hearing Dr. Space. I don’t know if the Portugal-based solo artist, synthesist, bandleader, Renaissance man Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (also Øresund Space Collective, Black Moon Circle, etc.) has been in touch with the European Space Agency (ESA) or what their response has been, but even with its organ solo and stated watery purpose, amid sundry pulsations it’s safe to assume the 20-minute title-track “Suite for Orchestra of Marine Mammals” is happening with an orchestra of semi-robot aliens on, indeed, some impossibly distant exoplanet. Heller has long dwelt at the heart of psychedelic improv and the three pieces across the 39 minutes of Suite for Orchestra of Marine Mammals recall classic krautrock ambience while remaining purposefully exploratory. “Going for the Nun” pairs church organ with keyboard before shimmering into proto-techno blips and bloops recalling the Space Age that should’ve had humans on Mars by now, while the relatively brief capper “No Space for Time” — perhaps titled to note the limitations of the vinyl format — still finds room in its six minutes to work in two stages, with introductory chimes shifting toward more kosmiche synth travels yet farther out.
The debut from Santa Fe-based solo drone project Ruiner — aka Zac Hogan, also of Dysphotic, ex-Drought — is admirable in its commitment to itself. Hogan unveils the outfit with The Book of Patience (on Desert Records), an 80-minute, mostly-single-note piece called “Liber Patientiae,” which if you’re up on your Latin, you know is the title of the album as well. With a willfully glacial pace that could just as easily be a parody of the style — there is definitely an element of ‘is this for real?’ in the listening process, but yeah, it seems to be — “Liber Patientiae” evolves over its time, growing noisier as it approaches 55 or so minutes, the distortion growing more fervent over the better part of the final 25, the linear trajectory underscoring the idea that there’s a plan at work all along coinciding with the experimental nature of the work. What that plan might manifest from here is secondary to the “Liber Patientiae” as a meditative experience. On headphones, alone, it becomes an inward journey. In a crowded room, at least at the outset it’s almost a melodic white noise, maybe a little tense, but stretched out and changing but somehow still solid and singular, making the adage that ‘what you put into it is what you get out’ especially true in this case. And as it’s a giant wall of noise, it goes without saying that not everybody will be up for getting on board, but it’s difficult to imagine the opaque nature of the work is news to Hogan, who clearly is searching for resonance on his own wavelength.
other sets a foreboding backing ambience, soon to join a building fray. There are notes, held, distinct, but Baca (who also mixed and mastered) and Frye are exploring here as well, and the sense of improv — a palpable ethic of “let’s try this” overarching the songs — adds to the motion of the listening experience. As destinations go, “thyself” may or may not be a place you want to end up, but terms of being transportive in sound, Liminal Mass is no lightweight.
