Posted in Whathaveyou on January 27th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Maybe fair to think of this as the second part of the story. Gnod, from Salford in the UK, and White Hills, from New York in the New York, are set to release their third collaborative outing, Drop Out III, on March 21 through Thrill Jockey. The special performance at Roadburn Festival, which was announced at the same time as the album itself, it turns out will be the launch point for a European tour together as they take the rest of April and into May to develop what will surely be an out-there onstage persona between the two outfits.
I have to imagine somewhere, at the behest of somebody, at least one of these shows will be recorded. Would you be surprised if a ‘Live at Roadburn’ showed up at some point later this year or in 2026? Me neither, but the more the merrier. The tour runs April 18 through May 4, as the PR wire tells it:
Gnod & White Hills announce their debut collaborative tour throughout the UK and EU this Spring including Roadburn Festival
Gnod & White Hills have announced a full collaborative tour throughout the UK and Europe this Spring, including their debut collaborative performance at Roadburn Festival. The tour comes just after the release of the newest release in their Drop Out series, Drop Out III, out Mar. 21st.
Manchester’s Gnod and New York’s White Hills stand as titans of Psychedelic & Space Rock. Together they bend the very notions of what rock can do, seemingly suspending our sense of time. Their alchemical chemistry and a fateful session at the Dropout Studio in Camberwell gave rise to the legendary, ongoing series of records under the moniker Drop Out. The records became an influential and sprawling series of extended pieces that remain touchstones of contemporary psychedelia. Having been called “absolutely essential,” “best I have heard – ever,” “A masterpiece,” the Drop Out series finally gets its definitive edition.
Drop Out III stands as a wholly new iteration of Gnod & White Hills’ initial collaboration. Reaching well beyond a mere reissue, Drop Out III is replete with sounds recorded in what the bands term the “Drop Out era” that have never been heard before. Drop Out III’s new elements make clear the unified ethos of both bands. The expanded versions of these timeless pieces epitomize the sense of possibility brimming throughout the album. That an album over 15 years out from its inception could continue to grow well past its roots is a testament to Gnod & White Hills’ ability as artists and collaborators.
Gnod & White Hills tour dates Apr. 18 – Tilburg, NL – Roadburn Festival Apr. 19 – Berlin, DE – Neue Zukunft Apr. 20 – Hamburg, DE – Stubnitz Apr. 22 – Stockholm, SE – HUS7 Apr. 23 – Oslo, NO – Goldie Apr. 24 – Copenhagen, DK – Loppen Apr. 25 – Sønderborg, DK – Sønderborghus Apr. 26 – Kiel, DE – Schaubude im Hinterhof Apr. 27 – Nijmegen, NL – Doornroosje Apr. 28 – Brussels, BE – Magasin 4 Apr. 29 – London, UK – Dingwalls Apr. 30 – Brighton, UK – Hope & Ruin May 1 – Falmouth, UK – Cornish Bank May 2 – Bristol, UK – Strange Brew May 3 – Hebden Bridge, UK – Trades Club May 4 – Newcastle, UK – Star and Shadow Cinema
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 15th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Castle Rat‘s emergence over the last two years, given a landmark last year as the band released their debut long-player, Into the Realm (review here), through King Volume Records, continues unabated. The theatrically-minded Brooklyn cultists have announced their first and surely not last headlining tour after supporting Early Moods this past Fall, and over the course of two weeks of shows with just two nights off, the band will treat the Eastern Seaboard and as far inland as Texas and Chicago to their particular vision of doomed aesthetic.
Given the reception to the album and the band generally, it seemed like their first headlining tour — note that the first night of the tour is in support of Brant Bjork Trio; Haze Mage are also on that bill — was an event worth marking. Nanotear is behind the stint and posted the following on socials:
Thrilled to announce Castle Rat’s first headlining tour. Hot on the heels of funding one of the most successful heavy metal Kickstarter campaigns of all time, the band is ready to bring The Realm to you!
Most shows on sale now at link in first comment. \m/
Thu 3/13 – Baltimore, MD @ Metro Fri 3/14 – Charlottesville, VA @ Southern Cafe Sat 3/15 – Raleigh, NC @ Chapel of Bones Sun 3/16 – Asheville, NC @ Eulogy Mon 3/17 – Atlanta, GA @ Drunken Unicorn Tue 3/18 – New Orleans, LA @ Siberia Thu 3/20 – Houston, TX @ Hell’s Heroes Fri 3/21 – Dallas, TX @ Three Links Sat 3/22 – Little Rock, AR @ White Water Tavern Sun 3/23 – St Louis, MO @ Red Flag Tue 3/25 – Chicago, IL @ Reggies Wed 3/26 – Indianapolis, IN @ Black Circle Thu 3/27 – Detroit, MI @ Small’s Fri 3/28 – Columbus, OH @ Ace Of Cups Sat 3/29 – Philadelphia, PA @ Johnny Brenda’s Sun 3/30 – New York, NY @ Le Poisson Rouge
Castle Rat: Riley Pinkerton – Singer, Guitarist, Songwriter; Rat Queen Franco Vittore – Lead Guitarist; Count Ronnie Lanzilotta III – Bassist; Plague Doctor Josh Strmic – Drummer; The All-Seeing Druid Maddy Wright; The Rat Reapress (Live shows)
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 27th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Does it make perfect sense that the forthcoming release from Gnod and White Hills would be hard to classify? If you’ve ever encountered either outfit on their own even in passing, never mind their prior collaborative output, probably. The kraut-worshiping psych heads share an affinity for digging into the outer expanses of ‘far out, man,’ and as the title Drop Out III implies, they’ve gone down this road together twice before.
But of course the story is more complicated than just that. Drop Out III expands on previous joint efforts and features material recorded around the time of their initial offering, as well as tracks from each band separately. Is it a split? A collaboration? A reissue? A new album? A little bit of all of them, it seems like.
A nine-minute sampling is available in the form of lead single “Run-A-Round,” and as the PR wire notes, the two entities will share the stage for a special thus-far-one-off at Roadburn 2025 in the Netherlands next April.
Art, info and audio follows:
Gnod & White Hills announce the next release in their legendary, ongoing collaborative series, Drop Out III, Due out Mar. 21st, 2025
Gnod & White Hills set to perform a Drop Out collaborative set for the first time ever at Roadburn Festival 2025
The legendary team-up of masters of psych rock Gnod & White Hills have announced the next release in their lauded ongoing collaborative series Drop Out. As titans of the exploratory rock community, their alchemical chemistry gave rise to the ongoing work that is Drop Out, originally conceived and assembled in the late 2000s from across the Atlantic Ocean which was later iterated by the more widely released Drop Out II. This new edition, Drop Out III, further expounds on the lysergic glory of previous versions with new arrangements, mixes, bonus tracks, and songs assembled as they were initially intended. Drop Out III will be released on double LP March 21st, 2025 with a full album of downloadable bonus material. Gnod & White Hills will be performing a collaborative set including material from Drop Out for the first time ever at Roadburn Festival 2025.
Along with the album’s announcement, Gnod & White Hills have shared the new expanded version of “Run-A-Round,” a loping cosmic excursion with cascading melodies that unfurl into one another, showcasing their fresh take on the track while retaining it’s intoxicating potency.
Drop Out III stands as a wholly new iteration of Gnod & White Hills’ initial collaboration. Reaching well beyond a mere reissue, Drop Out III is replete with sounds recorded in what the bands term the “Drop Out era” that have never been heard before. The double LP’s first two sides feature instrumentation and arrangements originally recorded but not included on previous releases. Embodying the two bands’ inquisitive natures, the already hypnotic flow of the songs take on new character, their timbres shifted and color palettes swirled in deft mixes. Classics like the single “Run-A-Round” and the eponymous “Drop Out” maintain their motorik drive and fizzing melodies, yet capture a new spirit. The latter two sides feature pieces never before included on vinyl, including the beautifully serene “Air Streams” in its original droning arc, previously broken bisected into separate tracks with completely different arrangements. In addition to those intoxicating pieces that will sound familiar and reinvigorated to fans, the album comes with a full album’s worth of bonus material, all crafted around the Drop Out era. White Hills’ “Decorating Time” (later repurposed into “Undressing Time”) showcases the depth of the band’s subtlety, rich with minute turns and a twist of psychedelic ambience. “Nothing NEU! Under the Sky” captures the invigorating pulse and dynamics of Gnod’s live performances.
Drop Out III’s new elements make clear the unified ethos of both bands. The expanded versions of these timeless pieces epitomize the sense of possibility brimming throughout the album. That an album over 15 years out from its inception could continue to grow well past its roots is a testament to Gnod & White Hills’ ability as artists and collaborators.
Drop Out III tracklist
LP 1: 1. Drop Out * 2. Run-A-Round * 3. Wellhang * 4. Spaced Man *
LP 2: 5. Elka * 6. Undressing Time ^ 7. Air Streams ^ 8. Unify ^
LP3 – digital only: 1. Per Sempre * 2. Decorating Time ~ 3. Changesaw + 4. Model Citizen ~ 5. Nothing Neu! Under The Sky + 6. Hole In My Eye ~ 7. Ovid’s Poem ~
* New expanded version % Never appeared on vinyl previously ^ Never previously released ~ White Hills track recorded around DO + Gnod track recorded around DO
Posted in Reviews on October 21st, 2024 by JJ Koczan
This is the last day of the Fall 2024 Quarterly Review. Day 11 of 10, as it were. Bonus-extra, as we say at home. 10 more releases of various kinds to underscore the point of the infinite creative sphere. Before we dive in, I want to make a note about the header above. It’s the same one I used a couple times during the pandemic, with the four horseman of the apocalypse riding, and I put it in place of the AI art I’d been using because that seems to be a trigger for so many people.
In my head, I did that to avoid the conversation, to avoid dealing with someone who might be like, “Ugh, AI art” and then a conversation that deteriorates in the way of people talking at each other on the internet. This saves me the trouble. I’ll note the irony that swiping an old etching out of the public domain and slapping an Obelisk logo on it is arguably less creative than feeding a prompt into a generative whathaveyou, but at least this way I don’t have to hear the underground’s moral panic that AI is coming for stoner rock.
Quarterly Review #101-110:
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Chat Pile, Cool World
Chat Pile are two-for-two on living up to the hype in my mind as Cool World follows the band’s 2022 debut, God’s Country (review here), with a darker, more metal take on that record’s trauma-poetic and nihilistic noise rock. Some of the bassy jabs in songs like “Camcorder” and “Frownland” remind of Korn circa their self-titled, but I’m not sure Chat Pile were born when that record came out, and that harder, fuller-sounding impact comes in a context with “Tape” following “Camcorder” in bringing together Meshuggah and post-punk, so take it as you will. Based in Oklahoma City, Chat Pile are officially A Big Deal With Dudes™, but in a style that’s not exactly known for reinvention — i.e. noise rock — they are legitimately a breath of air that would be ‘fresh’ if it weren’t so desolate and remains innovative regardless. There’s gonna be a lot of mediocre riffs and shitty poetry written in an attempt to capture a fraction of what this record does.
I guess the anonymous project Neon Nightamre — who sound and aesthetic-wise are straight-up October Rust-and-later Type O Negative; the reason the album caught my eye was the framing of the letters around the corners — have gotten some harsh response to their debut, Faded Dream. Critic-type dudes pearl-clutching a band’s open unoriginality. Because to be sure, beyond dedicating the album to Peter Steele — and maybe they did, I haven’t seen the full artwork — Neon Nightmare could hardly do more in naked homage to the semi-goth Brooklyn legends and their distinctive Beatles/Sabbath worship. But I mean, that’s the point. It’s not like this band is saying they’re the first ones doing any of this, and in a world where AI could scrape every Type O record and pump out some half-assed interpretation in five minutes, isn’t something that attempts to demonstrate actual human love for the source material as it builds on it worth at least acknowledging as creative? I like Type O Negative a lot. The existence of Neon Nightmare doesn’t lessen that at all, and there are individual flashes of style in “Lost Silver” — the keyboard line feels like an easter egg from “Anesthesia”; I wondered if the title was in honor of Josh Silver — and the guitar work of “She’s Drowning” that make me even more curious to see where this goes.
Brooklyn-based instrumentalist five-piece Astrometer present their full-length debut after releasing their first demo, Incubation (review here), in 2022. The double-guitar pairing of Carmine Laietta V and Drew Mack and the drumming of Jeff Stieber at times will put you in mind of their collective past playing together in Hull, but the keys of Jon Ehlers (Bangladeafy) and the basswork of Sam Brodsky (Meek is Murder) assure that the newer collective have a persona and direction of their own, so that while the soaring solo in “Power Vulture” or the crashes of “Blood Wedding” might ring familiar, the context has shifted, so that those crashes come accompanied by sax and there’s room for a song like “Conglobulations” with its quirk, rush and crunching bounce to feel cosmic with the keyboard, and that blend of crush and reach extends into the march of closer “Do I Know How to Party…” which feels like a preface for things to come in its progressive punch.
An annual check-in from universe-and-chill molten and mellow heavy psych explorers Acid Rooster. It’s only been a year since the band unfurled Flowers and Dead Souls, but Hall of Mirrors offers another chance to be hypnotized by the band’s consuming fluidity, the 39-minute four-songer coming across as focused on listener immersion in no small part as a result of Acid Rooster‘s own. That is, it’s not like you’re swimming around the bassline and residual synth and guitar effects noise in the middle of the 14-minute “Chandelier Arp” and the band are standing calm and dry back on the beach. No way. They’re right in it. I don’t know if they were closed-eyes entranced while the recording was taking place, but if you want a definition of ‘dug in,’ Hall of Mirrors has four, and Acid Rooster‘s capacity for conveying purpose as they plunge into a jam-born piece like “Confidence of Ignorance” sets them apart from much of Europe’s psychedelic underground in establishing a meditative atmosphere. They are unafraid of the serene, and not boring. This is an achievement.
Giants Dawrfs and Black Holes, Echo on Death of Narcissus
Five years on from their start, Germany’s Giants Dwarfs and Black Holes present Echo on Death of Narcissus as their third full-length and the follow-up to 2023’s In a Sandbox Full of Suns (review here) as the four-piece bring in new guitarist Caio Puttini Chaves alongside vocalist Christiane Thomaßen, guitarist Tomasz Riedel (also bass and keys) and drummer Carsten Freckmann for a five-track collection that has another album’s worth of knows-what-it’s-about behind it. Opener “Again,” long enough at eight minutes to be a bookend with the finale “Take Me Down” (13:23) but not so long as to undercut that expanse, leads into three competent showings of classic progressive/psychedelic rock, casual in the flow between “Soul Trip” and the foreboding strums of centerpiece “Flowers of Evil” ahead of the also-languid “December Bloom.” And when they get there, “Take Me Down” has a jammy breadth all its own that shimmers in the back half soloing, which kind of devolves at the end, but resounds all the more as organic for that.
Oryx‘s Primordial Sky threads a stylistic needle across its four songs. Delivered through Translation Loss, the 41-minute follow-up to the Denver trio’s 2021 offering, Lamenting a Dead World (discussed here), is no less extreme than one would expect, but to listen to 13-minute opener/longest track (immediate points), 13-minute capper “Look Upon the Earth,” or either of the seven-minute cuts between, it’s plain to both hear and see that there’s more to Oryx atmospherically than onslaught, however low guitarist Thomas Davis (also synth) pushes his growls amid the lurching grooves of bassist Joshua Kauffman and drummer Abigail Davis. This is something that five records and more than a decade on from their start their listeners know well, but as they refine their processes, even the outright sharp-toothed consumption of “Ephemeral” has some element of outreach.
Heads up on this record for those who dig the mellower end of heavy psych, plus intricacy of arrangement, which is a number in which I very much count myself. By that I mean don’t be surprised when Sunface‘s Cloud Castles shows up on my year-end list. It’s less outwardly traditionalist than some of the heavy rock coming out of Norway at this point in history, but showcasing a richer underground only makes Cloud Castles more vital in my mind, and as even a shorter song like “Thunder Era” includes an open-enough sensibility to let a shoegazier sway enter the proceedings in “Violet Ponds” without seeming incongruous for the post-All Them Witches bluesy sway that underlies it. Innovative for the percussion in “Tall Trees” alone, Sunface are weighted in tone but able to move in a way that feels like their own, and to convey that movement without upsetting the full-album flow across the 10 songs and 44 minutes with radical changes in meter, while at the same time not dwelling too long in any single stretch or atmosphere.
While consistent with their two prior LPs in the general modus of unmitigated aural heft and oppressive, extreme sludge, Fórn declare themselves on broader aesthetic ground in incorporating electronic elements courtesy of guitarist Joey Gonzalez and Andrew Nault, as well as newcomer synthesist Lane Shi Otayonii, whose clean vocals also provide a sense of space to 11-minute post-intro plunge “Soul Shadow.” If it’s the difference between all-crush and mostly-crush, that’s not nothing, and “Anamnesis” can be that much noisier for the band’s exploring a more encompassing sound. Live drums are handled in a guest capacity by Ilsa‘s Josh Brettell, and that band’s Orion Peter also sits in alongside Fórn‘s Chris Pinto and Otayonii, and with Danny Boyd on guitar and Brian Barbaruolo on bass, the sound is duly massive, tectonic and three-dimensional; the work of a band following a linear progression toward new ideas and balancing that against the devastation laid forth in their songs. Repercussions of the Self does not want for challenge directed toward the listener, but the crux is catharsis more than navelgazing, and the intensity here is no less crucial to Fórn‘s post-metallic scene-setting than it has been to this point in their tenure. Good band actively making themselves better.
Big-riffed heavy fuzz rock from Northern Ireland as the Belfast-based self-releasing-for-now four-piece of vocalist/synthesist Fionnuala McGlinchy, guitarist Tom Finney, bassist Michael McFarlane and drummer Ciaran O’Kane touch on vibes reminiscent of some of Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard‘s synth-fused sci-fi doom roil while keeping the material more earthbound in terms of tone and structure, so that the seven-minute “The Abstract” isn’t quite all-in on living up to the title, plenty liquefied, but still aware of itself and where it’s going. This mitigated terrestrialism — think Middle of Nowhere-era Acid King — is the source of a balance to which Negative Space, the band’s second album, is able to reshape as required by a given song — “Burning Gaze” has its far-out elements, they’re there for a reason — and thereby portray a range of moods rather than dwelling in the same emotional or atmospheric space for the duration. Bookending intro “As Above” and the closer “So Below” further the impression of the album as a single work/journey to undertake, and indeed that seems to be how the character of “The Forest,” “Delirium” and the rest of the material flourishes.
Romanian instrumentalist heavy psych purveyors Methadone Skies sent word of the follow-up to 2021’s Retrofuture Caveman (review here) last month and said that the six-songer Spectres at Dawn was the heaviest work they’d done in their now-six-album tenure. Well they’re right. Taking cues from Russian Circles and various others in the post-heavy sphere, guitarists Alexandru Wehry and Casian Stanciu, bassist Mihai Guta and drummer Flavius Retea (also keyboards, of increasing prominence in the sound), are still able to dive into a passage and carry across a feeling of openness and expanse, but on “Mano Cornetto” here that becomes just part of a surprisingly stately rush of space metal, and 10-minute closer “Use the Excessive Force” seems to be laying out its intention right there in the title. Whether the ensuing blastbeats are, in fact, excessive, will be up to the individual listener, but either way, Methadone Skies have done their diligence in letting listeners know where they’re headed, and Spectres at Dawn embodies that forwardness of ethic on multiple levels.
Posted in Reviews on October 15th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I’ll be honest, I don’t even want to talk about how well this Quarterly Review is going because I worry about screwing it up. It’s always a lot of work to round up 10 records per day, even if there’s a single or and EP snuck in there, but it’s been a long time now that I’ve been doing things this way — sometimes as a means of keeping up, sometimes to herald things to come, usually just a way to write about things I want to write about regardless of timeliness — and it’s always worth it. I’ve had a couple genuinely easy days here. Easier than expected. Obviously that’s a win.
So while I wait for the other shoe to drop, let’s keep the momentum going.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
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Massive Hassle, Unreal Damage
Brotherly two-piece Massive Hassle, comprised of brothers Bill Fisher and Marty Fisher — who played together in Mammothwing and now both feature in Church of the Cosmic Skull — get down with another incredibly complex set of harmonized ’70s-style soul-groovers, nailing it as regards tone and tempo from the big riff that eats “Lost in the Changes” to the strums and croons early in the penultimate “Tenspot,” hitting a high note together in that song that gives over to stark and wistful standalone guitar meander that with barely a minute ago gorgeously becomes a bittersweet triumph of nostalgic fuzz reminiscent of Colour Haze‘s “Fire” and having the sheer unmitigated gall to tell the world around them it’s no big deal by naming the band Massive Hassle and stating that as the thing they most want to avoid. When they did Number One (review here) in 2023, it felt like they were proving the concept. With Unreal Damage, they’re quietly pushing limits.
Iress are the Los Angeles-based four-piece of Michelle Malley (vocals), Michael Maldonado (bass), Glenn Chu (drums) and Graham Walker (guitar). Sleep Now, In Reverse is their fourth full-length in nearly 15 years of existence. As a record, it accomplishes a lot of things, but what you need to understand is that where it most succeeds and stands itself out is in bringing together a heavy post-rock sound — heavygaze, as the kids don’t say because they don’t know what it is — with emotive expression on vocals, a blending of ethereal and the most human and affecting, and when Malley lets loose in the payoff of “Mercy,” it’s an early highlight with plenty more to follow. It’s not that Iress are reinventing genre — evolving, maybe? — but what they’re doing with it is an ideal unto itself, taking those aspects from across an aesthetic range and incorporating them into a whole, at times defiantly cohesive sound, lush but clearheaded front to back.
When the band put the shimmying “Apocalypse Babes” up as a standalone single last year, it was some five years after their debut full-length, 2018’s Mindtripper (review here) — though there was a split between — so not an insignificant amount of time for Norway’s Magmakammer to expand on their methods and dig into the songs. To be sure, “Doom Jive” and “Zimbardo” still have that big-hook, Uncle Acid-style dirty garage buzz that lends itself so well to cultish themes but thankfully here is about more than murder. And indeed, the band seems to have branched out a bit, and the eight-song/43-minute Before I Burn is well served by divergences like the closing “I Will Guide Your Hand” or the way “Cult of Misanthropy” sounds like a studio outtake on a bootleg from 1969 until they kick it open around a build of marching guitar, even as it stays loyal to Magmakammer‘s core stylistic purposes. A welcome return.
The kind of sludge rock Ohio’s Evel play, informed by Mondo Generator‘s druggy, volatile heavy punk and C.O.C.‘s Southern metal nod, maybe a bit of High on Fire in “Alaska,” with a particularly Midwestern disappointment-in-everything that would’ve gone over well at Emissions From the Monolith circa 2003, isn’t what’s trendy. It’s not the cool thing. It doesn’t care about that, or about this review, or about providing social media content to maximize its algorithmic exposure. I’m not knocking any of that — especially the review, which is going swimmingly; I promise a point is coming — but if Evel‘s six-songer debut EP, Omen, is a foretell of things to come, the intention behind it is more about the catharsis of the writing/performance than trying to play to ‘scene’-type expectations. It is a pissed-off fuckall around which the band — which features guitarist/vocalist Alex Perekrest, also of Red Giant — will continue to build as “Dust Angel” and the swinging “Dawn Patrol” already find them doing. The going will likely be noisy, and that’s just fine.
Some six years and one reunion after their fourth album, 2018’s The Lucky Ones (review here), Virginia-born classic heavy barnburners Satan’s Satyrs are back with a fifth collection beating around riffs from Sabbath and the primordial ooze of heavy that birthed them, duly brash and infectious in their energy. Founding bassist/vocalist Clayton Burgess and guitarist Jarrett Nettnin are joined in the new incarnation of the band by guitarist Morgan McDaniel (also Mirror Queen) and drummer Russ Yusuf — though Sean Saley has been with them for recent live shows — and as they strut and swing through “Saltair Burns” like Pentagram if they’d known how to play jazz but were still doom, or the buzzy demo-style experimentation of “Genuine Turquoise,” which I’m just going to guess came together differently than was first expected. So much the better. They’ve never been hugely innovative, but Satan’s Satyrs have consistently delivered at this point across a span of more than a decade and they have their own spin on the style. They may always be a live band, but at least in my mind, there’s not much more one would ask that After Dark doesn’t deliver.
Delivered through Kozmik Artifactz, Weight in Gold is the second long-player from Melbourne, Australia’s Whoopie Cat, and it meets the listener at the intersection of classic, ’70s-style heavy blues rock and prog. Making dynamic use of a dual-vocal approach in “Pretty Baby” after establishing tone, presence and craft as assets with the seven-minute opening title-track, the band are unflinchingly modern in production even as they lean toward vintage-style song construction, and that meld of intention results in an organic sound that’s not restricted by the recording. Plus it’s louder, which doesn’t hurt most of the time. In any case, as Whoopie Cat follow-up their 2018 debut, Illusion of Choice, they do so with distinction and the ability to convey a firm grasp on their songwriting and convey a depth of intention from the what-if-Queen-but-blues “Icarus” or the consuming Hammondery of closer “Oh My Love.” Listening, I can’t help but wonder how far into prog they might ultimately go, but they’ve found a sweetspot in these songs that’s between styles, and they fit right in it.
Cheeky, heavy garage punk surely will not be enough to save the immortal souls of Earth Tongue from all their devil worship and intricate vocal patterning. And honestly the New Zealand two-piece — I could’ve sworn I saw something about them moving to Germany, but maybe they just had a really good Berlin show? — sound fine with that. Guitarist Gussie Larkin and drummer Ezra Simons benefit from the straightforward outward nature of their songs. That is, “Out of This Hell,” “The Mirror,” “Bodies Dissolve Tonight!” and any of the other nine inclusions on the record that either were or could’ve been singles, are catchy and tightly written. They’re not overplayed or underplayed, and they have enough tonal force in Larkin‘s guitar that the harder churn of closer “The Reluctant Host” can leave its own impression and still feel fluid alongside some of Great Haunting‘s sweeter psych-punk. Wherever they live, the two-piece make toys out of pop and praise music so that even “Miraculous Death” sounds like, and is, fun.
The collection House of Pain (Demos) takes its title from the place where guitarist/vocalist Tomas Iramain recorded them alongside bassist Matias Maltratador and drummer Jorge Iramain, though whether it’s a studio, rehearsal space, or an actual house, I won’t profess to know. Tomas is the lone remaining member carried over from the band’s 2020 self-titled LP, and the other part of what you need to know about House of Pain (Demos) can also be found in the title: it’s demos. Do not expect a studio sound full of flourish and nuance. Reportedly most of the songs were tracked with two Shure SM57s (the standard vocal mic), save for “Nomad” and “The Way I Am,” I guess because one broke? The point is, as raw as they are — and they are raw — these demos want nothing for appeal. The bounce in the bonus-track-type “Mountain (Take 1)” feels like a Dead Meadowy saunter, and for all of its one-mic-ness, “Nomad” gives a twist on ’50s and early ’60s guitar instrumentals that’s only bolstered by the recording. I’m not saying Las Historias should press up 10,000 LPs immediately or anything, but if this was the record, or maybe an EP and positioned as more substantial than the demos, aside from a couple repeated tracks, you could do far worse. “Hell Bird” howls, man. Twice over.
Certainly “Come With Me” and others on Aquanaut‘s self-titled debut have their desert rocking aspects, but there’s at least as much The Sword as Kyuss in what the Trondheim, Norway, newcomers unfurl on their self-titled, self-released debut, and when you can careen like in “Gamma Rays,” maybe sometimes you don’t need anything else. The seven-track/35-minute outing gets off to a bluesy, boozy start with “Lenéa,” and from there, Aquanaut are able to hone an approach that has its sludgier side in some of the Eyehategod bark of “Morality” but that comes to push increasingly far out as it plays through, so that “Living Memories” soars as the finale after the mid-tempo fuzzmaking of “Ivory,” and so Aquanaut seem to have a nascent breadth working for them in addition to the vigor of a young band shaping a collective persona. The generational turnover in Norway is prevalent right now with a number of promising debuts and breakouts in the last couple years. Aquanaut have a traditionalism at their core but feel like they want to break it as much as celebrate it, and if you’re the type to look for ‘bands to watch,’ that’s a reason to watch. Or even listen, if you’re feeling especially risk-friendly.
While I would be glad to be writing about Ghost Frog‘s quirky heavy-Weezerism and psychedelic chicanery even if their third album, Galactic Mini Golf didn’t have a song called “Deep Space Nine Iron” on it, I can’t lie and say that doesn’t make the prospect a little sweeter. It’s an interlude and I don’t even care — they made it and it’s real. The Portland, Oregon, four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Quinn Schwartz, guitarist/synthesist Karl Beheim, bassist Archie Heald and drummer Vincent LiRocchi (the latter making his first appearance) keep somewhat to a golfy theme, find another layer’s worth of heavy on “Shadow Club,” declare themselves weird before you even press play and reinforce the claim in both righteous post-grunge roll of “Burden of Proof” and the new wave rock of “Bubble Guns” before the big ol’ stompy riff in “Black Hole in One’ leads to a purposeful whole-album finish. Some things don’t have to make the regular kind of sense, because they make their own kind. Absurd as the revelry gets, Ghost Frog make their own kind of sense. Maybe you’ll find it’s also your kind of sense and that’s how we learn things about ourselves from art. Have a great rest of your day.
Posted in Reviews on October 14th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Second week of the Fall 2024 Quarterly Review begins now. You stoked? Nah, probably not, but at least at the end of this week there will be another 50 records for you to check out, added to the 50 from last week to make 100 total releases covered. So, I mean, it’s not nothing. But I understand if it isn’t the make-or-break of your afternoon.
Last week was killer, and today gets us off to another good start. Crazy, it’s almost like I’m enjoying this. Who the hell ever heard of such a thing?
Quarterly Review #51-60:
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White Hills, Beyond This Fiction
New York’s own psychedelic heads on fire White Hills return with Beyond This Fiction, a collection of sounds so otherworldly and lysergic they can’t help but be real. Seven tracks range from the fluid “Throw it Up in the Air” to the bassy experimental new wave of “Clear as Day,” veering into gentle noise rock as it does before “Killing Crimson” issues its own marching orders, coming across like if you beamed Fu Manchu through the accretion disk of a black hole and the audio experienced gravitational lensing. “Fiend” brings the two sides together and dares to get a little dreamy while doing it, the interlude “Closer” is a wash of drone, and “The Awakening” is a good deal of drone itself, but topped with spoken word, and the closing title-track takes place light-years from here in a kind of time humans haven’t yet learned to measure. It’s okay. White Hills records will still be around decades from now, when humans finally catch up to them. I’m not holding my breath, though.
Five records deep into a tenure now more than a decade long, I feel like Demon Head are a band that are the answer to a lot of questions being asked. Oh, where’s the classic-style band doing something new? Who’s a band who can sound like The Cure playing black metal and be neither of those things? Where’s a band doing forward-thinking proto-doom, not at all hindered by the apparent temporal impossibility of looking ahead and back at the same time? Here they are. They’re called Demon Head. Their fifth album is called Through holes Shine the Stars, and its it’s-night-time-and-so-we-chug-different sax-afflicted ride in “Draw Down the Stars” is consuming as the band take the ’70s doomery of their beginnings to genuinely new and progressive places. The depth of vocal layering throughout — “The Chalice,” the atmo-doom sprawl of “Every Flatworm,” the rousing, swinging hook and ensuing gallop of “Frost,” and so on — adds drama and persona to the songs, and the songs aren’t wanting otherwise, with a dug-in intricacy of construction and malleable underlying groove. Seriously. Maybe Demon Head are the band you’re looking for.
You can call Earth Ship sludge metal, and you’re not really wrong, but you’re not the most right either. The Berlin-based trio founded by guitarist/vocalist Jan Oberg and bassist Sabine Oberg, plus André Klein on drums, offer enough crush to hit that mark for sure, but the tight, almost Ministry-esque vocals on the title-track, the way “Radiant” dips subtly toward psychedelia as a side-A-capping preface to the languid clean-sung nod of “Daze and Delights,” giving symmetry to what can feel chaotic as “Ethereal Limbo” builds into its crescendo, fuzzed but threatening aggression soon to manifest in “Acrid Haze,” give even the nastiest moments throughout a sense of creative reach. That is to say, Soar — which Jan Oberg also recorded, mixed and mastered at Hidden Planet Studio and which sees release through the band’s The Lasting Dose Records — resides in more than one style, with opener “Shallow” dropping some hints of what’s to come and a special lumber seeming to be dedicated to the penultimate “Bereft,” which proves to be a peak in its own right. The Obergs seem to split their time these days between Earth Ship and the somewhat more ferocious Grin. In neither outfit do they misspend it.
Bassist/vocalist Tommy Stewart (ex-Hallows Eve, owner of Black Doomba Records) once more sits in the driver’s seat of the project that shares his name, and with four new tracks Tommy Stewart’s Dyerwulf on Fyrewulf One — which I swear sounds like the name of a military helicopter or somesuch — offer what will reportedly be half of their third long-player with an intention toward delivering Fyrewulf Two next year. Fair enough. “Kept Pain Busy” is the longest and grooviest fare on offer, bolstered by the quirk of shorter opener “Me ‘n’ My Meds” and the somewhat more madcap “Zoomagazoo,” which touches on heavy rockabilly in its swing, with a duly feedback-inclusive cover of Bloodrock‘s “Melvin Laid an Egg” for good measure. The feeling of saunter is palpable there for the organ, but prevalent throughout the original songs as well, as Stewart and drummer Dennis Reid (Patrick Salerno guests on the cover) know what they’re about, whether it’s garage-punk-psych trip of “Me ‘n’ My Meds” the swing that ensues.
The narrative — blessings and peace upon it — presents A Grand Stream as the result of Smote guitarist Daniel Foggin and drummer Rob Law absconding to a cabin in the woods by a stream to write and record. There’s certainly escapism in it, and one might argue Smote‘s folk-tinged drone and atmospheric heavy meditations have always had an aspect of leaving the ol’ consciousness at the flung-open doors of perception, etc., but the 10-minute undulating-but-mostly-stationary noise in “Chantry” is still a lot to take. That it follows the 16-miinute “Coming Out of a Hedge Backwards,” laced with sitar and synth and other backing currents filling out the ambience, should be indicative of the sprawl of the over-70-minute LP to begin with. Smote aren’t strangers at this point to the expanse or to longform expression, but there still seems to be a sense of plunging into the unknown throughout A Grand Stream as they make their way deeper into the 18-minute “The Opinion of the Lamb Pt. 2,” and the rolling realization of “Sitting Stone Pt. 1” at the beginning resounds over all of it.
Hard to argue with Mammoth Caravan‘s bruising metallism, not the least because by the time you’d open your mouth to do so the Little Rock, Arkansas, trio have already run you under their aural steamroller and you’re too flat to get the words out. The six-song/36-minute Frostbitten Galaxy is the second record from the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Robert Warner, bassist/vocalist Brandon Ringo and drummer Khetner Howton, and in the willful meander of “Cosmic Clairvoyance,” in many of their intros, in the tradeoffs of the penultimate “Prehistoric Spacefarer” and in the clean-sung finale “Sky Burial,” they not only back the outright crush of “Tusks of Orion” and “Siege in the Stars,” as well as opener/longest track (immediate points) “Absolute Zero,” with atmospheric intention, but with a bit of dared melody that feels like a foretell of things to come from the band. On Frostbitten Galaxy and its correspondingly chilly 2023 predecessor Ice Cold Oblivion (review here), Mammoth Caravan have proven they can pummel. Here they begin the process of expanding their sound around that.
If you caught Harvestman‘s psychedelic dub and guitar experimentalism on Triptych Part One (review here) earlier this year, perhaps it won’t come as a shock to find former Neurosis guitarist/vocalist Steve Von Till, aka Harvestman, working in a similar vein on Triptych Part Two. There’s more to it than just heady chill, but to be sure that’s part of what’s on offer too in the immersive drone of “The Falconer” or the 10-minute “The Hag of Beara vs. the Poet (Forest Dub),” which reinterprets and plays with the makeup of opener “The Hag of Beara vs. the Poet.” “Damascus” has a more outward-facing take and active percussive base, while “Vapour Phase” answers “The Falconer” with some later foreboding synthesis — closer “The Unjust Incarceration” adds guitar that I’ve been saying for years sounds like bagpipes and still does to this mix — while the penultimate “Galvanized and Torn Open,” despite the visceral title, brings smoother textures and a steady, calm rhythm. The story’s not finished yet, but Von Till has already covered a significant swath of ground.
Following up on 2022’s successful debut full-length, Born of Obsidian, the 11-song/37-minute Of Amber and Sand highlights the UK outfit’s flexibility of approach as regards metal, sludge, post-heavy impulses, intricate arrangements and fullness of sound as conveyed through the production. So yes, it’s quite a thing. They quietly and perhaps wisely moved on from the bit of amateur anthropology that defined the MesoAmerican thematic of the first record, and as Of Amber and Sand complements the thrown elbows in the midsection of “Death No More” and the proggy rhythmmaking of “Fenjaan” with shorter interludes of various stripes, eventually and satisfyingly getting to a point in “Bell Tower,” “Neheh” and “Timekeeper” where the ambience and the heft become one thing for a few minutes — and that’s kind of a separate journey from the rest of the record, which turns back to its purposes with “Crux Ansata,” but it works — but the surrounding interludes give each song a chance to make its own impact, and Kurokuma take advantage every time.
SlugWeed, The Mind’s Ability to Think Abstract Thoughts
Do you think a band called SlugWeed would be heavy and slow? If so, you’d be right. Would it help if I told you the last single was called “Bongcloud?” The instrumental New England solo-project — which, like anything else these days, might be AI — has an ecosystem’s worth of releases up on Bandcamp dating back to an apparent birth as a pandemic project with the long-player The Power of the Leaf, and the 11-minute single “The Mind’s Ability to Think Abstract Thoughts” follows the pattern in holding to the central ethic of lumbering instrumental riffage, all dank and probably knowing about trichomes and such. The song itself is a massive chug-and-groover, and gradually opens to a more atmospheric texture as it goes, but the central idea is in the going itself, which is slow, plodding, and returns from its drift around a fervent chug that reminds of a (slower) take on some of what Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol had on offer earlier in the year. It probably won’t be long before SlugWeed return with anther single or EP, so “The Mind’s Ability to Think Abstract Thoughts” may just be a step on the way. Fine for the size of the footprint in question.
Dug-in solo krautistry from Tempe, Arizona’s Jeff Hopp, Man and Robot Society‘s Asteroid Lost comes steeped in science-fiction lore and mellow space-prog vibes. It’s immersive, and not a story without struggle or conflict as represented in the music — which is instrumental and doesn’t really want, need or have a ton of room for vocals, though there are spots where shoehorning could be done if Hopp was desperate — but if you take the trip just as it is, either put your own story to it or just go with the music, the music is enough to go on itself, and there’s more than one applicable thread of plot to be woven in “Nomads of the Sand” or the later “Man of Chrome,” which resonates a classic feel in the guitar ahead of the more vibrant space funk of “The Nekropol,” which stages a righteous keyboard takeover as it comes out of its midsection and into the theremin-sounding second half. You never quite know what’s coming next, but since it all flows as a single work, that becomes part of the experience Man and Robot Society offer, and is a strength as the closing title-track loses the asteroid but finds a bit of fuzzy twist to finish.
Posted in Reviews on October 8th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Welcome back to the Fall 2024 Quarterly Review, which started yesterday and will continue through next Friday. This week and next week, my life is pretty much cutting up pizza for the kid, Hungarian homework, and this. I could do worse.
There’s good stuff in this one though, and a lot of it, today and really throughout. I hope you find something you think is cool, tomorrow or the next day if not today.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
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Pia Isa, Dissolve
Pia Isaksen, also of Superlynx, offers a follow-up to 2022’s solo debut as Pia Isa, Distorted Chants (review here), and with songs like “Into the Fire” and “Dissolve,” a heavy-meditative take on grunge is imagined, with Isaksen‘s lumbering bass leading the way with a low rumble behind often quietly delivered vocals, and Ole Teigen‘s drums placed deep in a three-dimensional mix, and spaciousness added to the bulk of the proceedings through Gary Arce‘s signature floating guitar tone; the Yawning Man founder guests on guitar for six of the eight tracks, and is a not insignificant presence in complement and contrast to some of the more morose elements and rhythmic churning, as in “New Light.” But Isaksen is no stranger to crafting material heavy in ambience and mood as much as tone, and Dissolve feels like a deep-dive into experimentalism that pays off in the songs themselves. As Isaksen and Arce get ready to unveil their new collaborative project SoftSun, nothing here makes me look forward to that less.
I don’t know where the lines between genres are supposed to be anymore and I’m done pretending to care. If Sun and Sail Club had Barney from Napalm Death singing lead, you’d call them grindcore. It’s Tony Adolescents, making his second appearance with Sun and Sail Club after 2015’s The Great White Dope (review here), alongside founding guitarist Bob Balch (also Fu Manchu, Big Scenic Nowhere, etc.), bassist Scott Reeder (ex-Kyuss, Goatsnake, The Obsessed, etc.) and drummer Scott Reeder (Fu Manchu) for another mostly-blistering round of heavy punk, full in its charge and crossover punk-metal defiance, in “The Color of War” and the early-C.O.C.-esque “Drag the River,” which follows. Oh, and Balch gets a little surf in there too in “Tastes Like Blood” and the wistful bookending intro and outro. Borders on goth for a moment there, but it works. In the Balchian oeuvre — somewhere on the opposite side of the spectrum from where Slower now reside — Sun and Sail Club found itself as a project with The Great White Dope. Shipwrecked is correspondingly more aware of what the band wants their music to do as a result, and so able to hit more directly.
The third album from Los Angeles-based heavy progressive rockers Vitskär Süden, Vessel is quick to establish ambition as a central element. That is to say, in the depth of their arrangements vocally and instrumentally, in their ability to set and vary a mood, and in being able to convey a sense of experimentalism in a four-minute track with a hook like “R’lyeh,” Vitskär Süden come across as cognizant of trying new ideas in their material and bringing these to fruition in the finished products of the songs. The material feels built around specific parts, some rhythmic, some melodic, in “Through Tunnels They Move” it might be Inxs, maybe the piano and strings in “Hidden by the Day,” and so on, and that it isn’t always the same thing adds to the character brought by guitarist/synthesist Julian Goldberger, bassist/vocalist Martin Garner, guitarist TJ Webber and drummer Christopher Martin as the songs coalesce and challenge the band’s own conceptions of their work as much as the listener’s. It is cinematic in both its sprawl and dramatic intent, and I won’t spoil the ending but yes of course it goes gospel.
German murk-doomers Daevar keep affairs dark on their second long-player, Amber Eyes, as the trio of bassist/vocalist Pardis Latifi, guitarist Caspar Orfgren and drummer Moritz Ermen Bausch explore nodding patience and grim atmospherics across the six included cuts, and Windhand are still an influence, but “Pay to Pray” has a rolling, Acid King-style fluidity and the guitar takes to someplace more decisively evil, and Electric Wizardly, so you figure it out, because what it sounds like to me is Daevar beginning to step out from any single influence and to more comfortably find their own, often hypnotic niche, meeting the post-metallic feel of “Caliban and the Witch” with layered vocal harmonies before the megaplod finish. The title-track is faster and represents the grungier intentions, and if that’s the start of side B, then “Lizards” and “Grey in Grey” could only be called a plunge from there. The finale in particular is consuming in a way that reminds of Undersmile, which isn’t a complement I would lightly give.
Have you ever heard Endless Floods and not wanted more? Me neither. The French art-doom four-piece made a single out of the eight-minute “Décennie” from their fourth full-length, Rites Futurs, and as that song works its way into a minimalist drone progression worthy of Earth before offering stark reassurance in intertwining human voices before exploding, gloriously, into a guitar solo the size of any number of partially undersea volcanoes, there is little that feels beyond the band’s creative reach. Volume is a part of what makes the material so affecting, with a progressive metal-style fullness of tone and voices treated to become part of what’s creating the sense of space. In its quiet reaches and surges of worshipful sounds — the choir on “Forge,” for example — Rites Futursis somehow dystopian, but it’s not an empty world “after” humans. There’s life in these songs, in the way the title-track builds into its post-punk shove and then just into this undulation of noise is twice as universe-devouring for the acoustic guitar that emerges by itself on the other side. Underrated band.
Dark heavy rock with a metallic underpinning that seems to come forward in “She Was a Witch” more than, say, opener “Alleyway Ecstasy,” from Black on High‘s debut, Echoes Through Time, notably brings elements from the likes of Mastodon and Alice in Chains together with songs that don’t just retain their immediacy but build upward from the leadoff, so that “Take These Pills” in the penultimate spot of the tracklisting becomes a punk rock apex for a trajectory the Dallas-based four-piece with members of Gypsy Sun Revival and Turbid North set forth on “I Feel Lethal,” and the drop into lower gears for the closing title-track seems to hit that much harder as a return. It’s like the meme where the riff comes back but heavier and Vince McMahon or whoever is laser-eye stoked, except it’s set up across the whole album and not actually so simple as that, and Echoes Through Time ends up being more about the journey than the destination. Fine. It’s a high level of craft for being a first record, and it feels like the beginning of an evolution for a longer term.
Greek experimentalist two-piece Anomalos Kosmos may or may not evoke a Grails-y impression with their ’70s-prog-informed soundtrack-style instrumentals, but the thing is, with Live at 102 FM, they seem at least to be making it up as they go along. Sure, looping this or that layer to fill out the sound helps, as “Flow + Improv 1” proves readily in its first half, then again in its second, but what makes it jazz is that the exploration is happening for the creator and the consumer at the same time. It gets weird, and weirder, and “The + Improv 2” throws down a swinging groove for a bit after that vocal sample in the last couple minutes, but even if part of “Me Orizeis” is plotted as opposed to being 100 percent made up like they just walked into the room and that noise happened, it represents a vibrant and encompassing process that can’t help but feel organic as it’s recorded live. The band’s 2022 debut, Mornin Loopaz (review here) was both more restless and more concept-based. I like that I have no idea how Anomalos Kosmos might follow this.
Maybe it won’t come as a shocker that a live record with takes on the band’s songs that are upwards of 14, 17, 19, 23 minutes long is expansive? Maryland’s Mountainwolf offer seven tracks across Dust on a New Moon, which were recorded live at some point, somewhere, ever, maybe at New Year’s? I don’t want to speculate. In any case, what happens over the course of the ‘evening with’ is Mountainwolf plunge into an Appalachian vision of Earthless-style instrumental epicness. East Coast groove set to a more Pacific ideology; I guess at a certain point jams is jams. Mountainwolf have plenty of those, and while it’s not at all their first live release, Dust on a New Moon unfolds the sludgy crash of “Edging” and the bassy jabs of “Heroin x 1991” with purpose in each twist of turn captured. I assume the show is a little different every night as a given song might go here or there, but it sounds like a show worth seeing, to say the very least of it.
The Giraffes don’t have to be out there burnin’ barns, but Cigarette is indeed incendiary in “Pipes” and “Limping Horse,” and that’s barely a fraction of the business the long-running New York outfit get done in short order across their eighth album’s 34 minutes. NYC has had its share of underheralded heavy rock bands and so fair enough for The Giraffes being part of a longstanding tradition, but the moody vibe in “Lazarus,” the eerie modernity cast in “Baby Pictures,” and the citified twang in “Dead Bird” — which is fair enough to consider Americana since it’s about drug addiction — or the way “The Shot” has a kind of punctuated strut that is so much the band’s own, it’s worth reiterating that The Giraffes have earned far more plaudits than they’ve ever received for their recorded work, and as “Pipes” and “Million Year Old Song” bring a bluesy tinge to the madcap groove, I don’t know Cigarette will change that or if the band would even want it to if it did, but they’re an institution in New York’s underground and LPs like this are why.
While the drift of psychedelia ranges further back, there’s something about even the most shimmering of moments on Filthy Hippies‘ Share the Pill that’s much more ’97 than ’67, more Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine adding a current of noise to the mellow-heavy groove, maybe. That’s all well and good but doesn’t account for the universe-tearing “Good Time” or the spacey post-punk of “Catatonic” (though maybe it does, in the case of the latter) or the dub-psych roll “Stolen From Heaven” that bridges the two halves of the record, so take it for what it is. The stylistic truth of Filthy Hippies is more complex than the superficial trappings of drug rock might lead one to believe, and it’s not without its challenging aspects, even though the material in pieces like “Candy Floss” or the tambourine-insistent “Dreaming of Water” veers readily into poppish frequencies. There doesn’t seem to be a ton that’s off limits, but it feels rooted in heavy groove just the same and that sits well next to the flashes of the brighter contrast.
Posted in Reviews on September 15th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Before Show
Truckfighters soundchecking outside with “Desert Cruiser.” There’s a concrete rise in back of the Knockdown Center, up to a train platform presumably leftover from when whatever what manufactured here, and last year it was open for people to go up like a balcony and watch the bands on the outside stage. It would be hot up there today with the sun beating down, but it doesn’t matter since it’s closed off. So it goes.
Today is the last day of Desertfest New York 2024, and it brings that third, outside stage, where yesterday alternated between the two in the building itself. There are picnic tables out here, corners you can put yourself in if you want, and I appreciate that kind of thing, especially on a day with a crunch of bands. The most brutal schedule conflict? High Desert Queen playing in the Texas room during Truckfighters. Hard choices will be made. I don’t know that I’ll get to take pictures of both, but I plan to watch at least part of each set since it’s not like you have to go down the block to see one or the other. We’ll see how it goes.
Got back and crashed out last night around 1AM. It’s the last day here, so of course one’s head drifts to thoughts of returning to real life after this relatively brief but certainly welcome sidestep. I started packing that glut of stuff I brought with me. I was thinking of driving home tonight, maybe splitting out during Russian Circles, throwing my bags in the car and letting out for Jersey, but I don’t actually expect to be in any shape to do such a thing by then, and Saturday night traffic in New York is like Thursday afternoon. By the time I got home, any favors I’d have done myself by leaving early would have evaporated. That’s me, talking myself out of a thing.
Doors are in four minutes, reportedly. People were waiting out in the sun when I got here. I don’t have an AAA pass or anything because I’ve never been cool, ever, but I do like getting j and sitting a bit before the show starts, writing and whatever else. Calm before the storm? Maybe. Some quiet for the subsequent volume to contrast once the day actually starts. Light tension in the air. You know how it goes.
Like this:
Kadabra
There’s a lot to look forward to today, front to back, but Kadabra must definitely aren’t to be left out of that consideration. The Spokane, Washington-based trio played Desertfest London earlier this year as well and are a better band than the general underground consensus seems to know, though they drew a decent crowd for being the first band on, so maybe I’m wrong on the hype level. Fine. They’re here supporting their 2023 album, Umbra (discussed here, review here), and I very clearly was not the only one who thought to get to Knockdown Center early. The groove and sinister vibe came quick like the haze from the fog machine, only not so quickly breezed away. “The Serpent” and “The Devil” from the latest album featured, and if you wanted to call either a highlight, I won’t fight you. The sound came through clear enough to do justice to the vocal melodies, and their swing was the start today needed.
Gozu
I don’t know how long it’s been and I don’t feel like looking, but it’s too long, in any case. Soul and hard-hitting groove, fury (of the markedly impatient) and craft underneath it all. And every now and again, Gaff might do a softshoe. Well earned. I was watching them play and trying to write, but couldn’t get out of my head, and in what might be the best decision I make today, I stopped trying to write. I put my phone in my pocket and let Gozu bowl me over with their particularly classy roll. It was the right choice, and after half a decade — I felt guilty and looked; last time I saw Gozu was before the pandemic; too long — they both played songs I’d never heard live before and, as of course they would, nailed new material and old. Never a doubt in my mind. Honestly, I was just happy to see them, let alone see them kill it. Not going to pretend to be the impartial observer. I missed Gozu.
Spaceslug
You know that feeling when you’ve dug a band for a while and you see them live for the first time and you dig it and it’s a relief? Seeing Spaceslug for the first time was like that for me. Because it was that, exactly. It was also good to finally see for myself how the live show and the sound of their albums — a consistently evolving thing, definitely on a path — intertwine in terms of presenting the material. The division of duties on vocals and the arrangements have gotten more complex with time, and while you might put on their 2016 debut, Lemanis (discussed here), and 2024’s Out of Water (review here) in succession and know it’s the same band, their breath changes what they mean, and on stage, they can lean into different sides at different times, dynamic without being hurried about it. I don’t know that I’d ever get to see Spaceslug if this wasn’t happening — though I’d certainly make it happen if I could — so thank you Desertfest, and thanks Spaceslug for making the trip and for the show.
Hippie Death Cult
Hippie Death Cult and Kadabra have been out on a tour since last week and were in Rhode Island last night. Meanwhile, Boston got a dose of High Desert Queen, Gozu and Dozer. It’s a good weekend to be on the Eastern Seaboard. Last time I saw the band was at Psycho in 2022 (review here), and that was before basisst Laura Phillips took over on lead vocals. Last Fall brought the release of their first album with Harry Silvers on drums and Phillips on vocals, and with a foundation in Eddie Brnabic’s fluid riffing, they were a Hippie Death Cult able to bring more of an aggressive roll to bear with intermittent harsher vocals; something of a sludgier potential that may or may not be explored over time as they continue to grow. But they were rad when they had Ben Jackson singing and they’re rad now. Hypnotic enough that I forgot to be anxious about missing the start of Eagle Twin, which was nice for a couple minutes to get out of my own head. Twice today. I’m coming dangerously close to letting myself enjoy a thing.
Eagle Twin
Doom with antlers, but not literally, because that also exists. They’re not a band who comes to the East Coast every day, or year, and though I imagine a specific ideal is seeing Eagle Twin out in the woods someplace, they brought a more than solid main stage crowd. I was thinking it hadn’t been that long since I saw them but it turns out it was six years ago at Høstsabbat (review here), where they made a specifically bluesy impression. Go figure. Their sound feels no less born of bigger, more ancient forests than one finds here, but on a level even just of performance and the aforementioned tone, they brought it. There’s a lot to dig about them, I’m just out of metaphors. I took a peak in the Texas stage at Trace Amount, then found a spot at a table with some friends and planted there until a bit before Dozer went on. Eagle Twin were cool, but until I looked just a bit ago I thought I’d seen them in the last few years, and I don’t get a lot of nice, human conversation with people I like in my day-to-day.
Dozer
Powerhouse set, and Dozer’s first time in the States in at least two decades. The urgency of last year’s Drifting Through the Endless Void (review here) speaks for itself, and I’m not here to sell records anyway. But I’m lucky enough that this is my third Dozer show in the last three years after seeing them on what was then a one-off at Desertfest London 2013 (review here), and as classic as their early work is, they’re vital, moving forward in sound from where they left off after 2008’s Beyond Colossal (featured here), coming back after a stretch of time that in hindsight they made short. Propulsive unto themselves in the sphere of heavy rock, people clapping along to Sebastian Olsson’s drums. Their show with High Desert Queen and Gozu in Boston last night precedes them much as it did Gozu, put there were clearly people in the crowd who’ve never seen Dozer before, one can only hope they come back again. Bonus, the train platform was open, so I got to watch from there for a minute too. Enough to witness a light mosh taking shape for the last song.
Green Lung
I wouldn’t hazard to predict the future, but Green Lung look like they’re in it for the long haul. Stage presence enough that I don’t feel ridiculous imagining them playing festivals like this 20 years from now. They could probably play “Mountain Throne” then too. Their organic cultistry, nature-worship and on-stage harmonies were on point, and though I knew all of that would be the case going into the set, it was exciting to see them play songs from last Fall’s This Heathen Land (review here) and take advantage of the full breadth of their sound and a reach that only seems to be expanding. Part of the appeal is that they’re over the top, and they are, but there’s so much raw talent on stage when they play, and they’re clearly learning how to wield it. This is their first US tour. I have a hard time imagining it will be their last. “Maxine (Witch Queen),” “Old Gods,” “Hunters in the Sky,” “Graveyard Sun.” Fucking “Let the Devil In.” Everything they played sounded like it could’ve been on a greatest hits collection. Hooks and performance. They made it a show. It was a spectacle, classic metal in many ways, some of them theatrical, but brought to life with its own take on both conceptual and stylistic traditions.
Truckfighters
This was my moment to both have and eat cake. Truckfighters went on five whole minutes before High Desert Queen. The Ruins (outside) stage is about a minute’s walk from the Texas room, so I watched the start of Truckfighters and then went back and forth for the duration. Acid King was getting started soon enough as well, so it’s probably the most ‘go’ moment of the fest, at least for me, but those are three different parties you want to be at. Truckfighters aren’t the only band this weekend whose reputation precedes them, and they had the biggest crowd of the night outside — also at some point it became night; when may or may not be clear in the photos — and another mosh. Surprising amount of mish this year. It’s like New York is extra antsy since the Saint Vitus Bar closed, which is reasonable, frankly. I got to see Truckfighters do “The Chairman,” and that was justification enough for the back and forth, a mellower vibe in the buildup to the payoff, as opposed to some of their stuff, which is more pure shove and roll. A reputation well and continually earned. Weren’t they recording an album? Or is that just me hoping for a thing?
High Desert Queen
Just a blast of a band. For a good time, call. Up from Austin, they’re on the already noted tour with Dozer and Gozu, playing in support of this Spring’s Palm Reader (review here), their second album and first for Magnetic Eye. Those songs rightly featured heavily in the set, which started 30 seconds after I walked into the Texas room like it was on cue. Tight, heavy groove, nothing too fancy stylistically — I always hear some C.O.C. in their sound, one way or the other, and that was true tonight, but not the end of the story as regards their sound either. You can hear the influence of pre- and turn of the century heavy — if I held up Dozer and Acid King as examples, I’m not discounting the relevance of either’s present work in doing that; I’m just thinking of when they got going — and you can tell watching them that they’re into it. Not everybody on stage is dancing around like vocalist Ryan Garney might be to a given riff from guitarist Rusty Miller, but he, bassist Morgan Miller and drummer Phil Hook were right there too in the moment on stage. It was great to see, and even against Truckfighters on the bill, the room filled up.
Acid King
Fair to say Acid King remain at a crucial moment about a year and a half out from Beyond Vision (review here), which was my pick for album of the year last December — not just me, they topped the year-end poll as well. I’m not worried they’re about to immediately do another record right away — you never know, but Beyond Vision was eight years after 2015’s Middle of Nowhere Center of Everywhere (discussed here, review here), and that was down from 10. But the reason I’m saying see Acid King now isn’t just that Lori S. is a hero and bassist/synthesist Bryce Shelton and drummer Jason Willer are so dead on in the nod, but it’s the songs they’re playing from Beyond Vision. The material itself. “Mind’s Eye” and “Destination Psych.” Closing with that insane build from “Color Trails?” Come on. Any chance you’re afforded, see this band.
Russian Circles
Chicago instrumentalist forerunners Russian Circles came out with a burst, hitting hard in the spirit of 2022’s Gnosis (review here) and building outward from there in multiple directions. Post-hardcore is part of it, but so is psychedelic rock and the occasional time-to-crush bit of riffery, and they’ve found a way to keep structured songs from falling into a verse/chorus trap. They genuinely sound like a band who listen to more kinds of music than the kind they make, amd benefit from it in being able not just to pay loud or quiet, but evoke a different feel from song to song. A lot of anything would have been a comedown after Acid King, but Russian Circles in the headlining spot had a level of volume that was their own as much as their sound, and as it had been a while, I was glad to watch them, or at least listen in a spot where the strobe wasn’t quite so fast. Even as Desertfest draws down, it delivers. There were even more bubbles.
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It was good to see old friends, new friends, and Desertfest friends, since as the years have gone on I’ve found there are people I see here and that’s it. I take that as a good sign — though I suspect I’d see more people if I went out more — since it means people are coming back, which is the ideal. Desertfest delivered a show to New York a show and a lineup worthy of the Desertfest brand, and I hope it continues to bring European acts over each year as it did in 2024 with Dozer, Spaceslug, Green Lung, Domkraft, Truckfighters, Belzebong, even Amenra. They’ve been working to build a sense of community since the inception, and between killer shows and returning patrons, I’d say they’re on their way.
A note about the Texas stage today before I leave off. I only got (some) photos of High Desert Queen, but I did get to pop in for some of Beinn and Trace Amount as well. I’d never seen either, so at least a few songs. Beinn were a pleasant surprise, kind of a heavy-ended post-hardcore thing, I heard some noise rock and some Cave In, and they went for it on stage, as did Brooklyn industrialist Trace Amount, whose studio work I’ve dug in a kind of machine-misanthropic vibe. On stage, it’s just Brandon Gallagher, and he was all-in, pacing back and forth and throwing himself around, screaming and in the crowd headbanging. It was by no means packed, but I respect the one-man show for sure. Not easy to keep up energy when you’re by yourself. Ask a standup comedian. Tower headlined the room and they continue to make a party out of trad metal in a way that is only endearing.
Thank you to Reece, Sarika, and the Desertfest crew. Thank you to Tim Bugbee, Dante Torrieri, the Great Tomoko, and Sean in the photo pit, and I’m sorry for taking up space. Thanks to everybody who said hi or something nice about the site — or both — and I can’t tell you how warm and welcoming it felt to be in a place where I felt like what I do matters to someone, even just a little bit. Thank you. Thank you for reading. And thanks, as always and most of all, to The Patient Mrs., though whom all things are possible.
More pics after the jump. And I’m mostly taking tomorrow (Monday) off to catch up on writing. Back Tuesday. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a 90-minute shower.
ongoing series of records under the moniker Drop Out. The records became an influential and sprawling series of extended pieces that remain touchstones of contemporary psychedelia. Having been called “absolutely essential,” “best I have heard – ever,” “A masterpiece,” the Drop Out series finally gets its definitive edition.
