Posted in Questionnaire on January 31st, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Justin Pinkerton of Glass Parallels & Futuropaco
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I just make music/sounds that I like. I definitely draw heavily from older genres when I’m writing stuff. I try to learn to play as many instruments I can along the way. I started with saxophone, went to guitar, bass, drums, piano, picked up saxophone again, and now I’ve started playing the flute. I even dabbled with turntable scratching for a while but don’t really keep up on that. I can play things well enough to make records with them. As much as I love playing with and collaborating with other musicians I also enjoy making music on my own. Therefore, I’ve had to learn everything that I need to be able to do that with, including recording and mixing. But I’d still like to learn more instruments and I’m constantly trying to improved my engineering abilities. It’s also helpful with my work, making music for ads, to be able to cover as much ground on my own as possible.
Describe your first musical memory.
Probably just the weekends at my house growing up. Friday – Sunday nights were when my parents would listen to music. Classic rock/pop/yacht rock/jazz, etc. Basically music from the ’50s – ’70s.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Maybe playing Roadburn? That was the last show of Golden Void’s first Euro tour and it was just super fun. I believe you were there? [Edit: I was indeed.]
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Pretty much every time I work on music for an advertisement for an evil corporation (which is most of them), it’s very tough. Unfortunately, it’s my job. I’m not much of a touring musician, I’ve got kids, so making music for a living by doing ads means working for some terrible people. At least I don’t deal with them directly. But, it still bums me out on a regular basis. I do my best to just focus on the music. Which can also be tough since I’m often composing music that isn’t something I would do I my own.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Frustration. But I mean that in a good way. Pushing yourself to not just recreate something you’ve already done. Moving forward and not just getting comfortable in one spot. Sometimes that comes easily, other times it’s a mental exercise in patience and and exploration.
How do you define success?
Being happy with what you’ve created, whether other people like it or not.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Donald Trump as president.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
A film score for an actual film. The Futuropaco record and my synth record were made with sort of imaginary films in mind but I’d like to actually score a film.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Mental therapy. I believe art is, or should be purely self indulgent, but not in an egotistical sort of way. People make art to satisfy themselves, even if they’re trying to convey something to someone else. If other people like it then great. But there are tons of artists out there that we’ll probably never hear about, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t still creating art. Art is subjective. Just because someone else has an opinion on it doesn’t change the fact that it was the result of creative expression. The odd balance is between making art, and make a living off of using your skills that you use to make your art, to make “art” to sell to someone else. I’m referring to people to make music for ads, like me, or people who make visual art to sell for advertising, etc. It’s a fine, weird, uncomfortable line.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 28th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Kudos to Sleep on deciding to take the right two years off. The Sabbathian heirs announced their indefinite hiatus — they made it fun by calling it ‘Hypersleep’ — in November 2019, and, well, if you’ve been alive in the time since, you know how well the world has fared without them.
Their return for three shows next April — two in Colorado, one in New Mexico — is only welcome. No idea what it’ll lead to in terms of touring or anything — Matt Pike has a book of his lyrics coming out and I think High on Fire are due to release an album — but what the hell, three dates are better than none.
The band’s latest album, The Sciences (review here), as well as the companion single “Leagues Beneath” (discussed here), were released in 2018, and followed by the encompassing 3LP live outing, Live at Third Man Records (review here), the next year. The live record(s) was a fitting capper to a run that began with shows a decade earlier that introduced Sleep, long thought of as gone forever as their mythos grew in the digital/social media age, to an entirely new generation of fans. It seemed time had done precious little to dull their impact, and with Neurosis‘ Jason Roeder stepping in on drums alongside Pike‘s guitar and the bass and vocals of Al Cisneros — whose impact with Om in the interim years isn’t to be understated — they had a unifying factor around which to rally the varied on-stage personae between the two founding members.
In a live setting and on The Sciences — not to forget the may-it-be-perpetually-reissued 2014 single, “The Clarity” (review here) — Sleep both justified and added to their legend. May they continue to do so for as long as they find it vaguely interesting and/or lucrative:
Hello Denver, Colorado Springs and Albuquerque. We will be seeing you soon in 2022. Tickets on sale Friday 10/29 at 9a PST/10a MST. Praise Iommi.
Hey, how was your weekend? You won’t be surprised to learn mine was full of tunes, which I mark as a win. While we’re marking wins, let’s put one down for wrapping up the longest Quarterly Review to-date in a full 11 days today. 110 releases. I started on July 5 — a lifetime ago. It’s now July 19, and I’ve encountered a sick kid and wife, busted laptop, oral surgery, and more riffs than I could ever hope to count along the way. Ups, downs, all-arounds. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride.
This day was added kind of on an impulse, and the point I’m looking to emphasize is that you can spend two full weeks reviewing 10 albums a day and still there’s more to be had. I’ve learned over time you’re never going to hear everything — not even close — and that no matter how deep you dig, there’s more to find. I’m sure if I didn’t have other stuff scheduled I could fill out the entirety of this week and then some with 10 records a day. As it stands, let’s not have this Quarterly Review run into the next one at the end of September/beginning of October. Time to get my life back a little bit, such as it is.
Quarterly Review #101-110:
King Woman, Celestial Blues
After the (earned) fanfare surrounding King Woman‘s 2017 debut, Created in the Image of Suffering, expectations for the sophomore outing, Celestial Blues, are significant. Songwriter/vocalist Kris Esfandiari meets these head-on in heavy and atmospheric fashion on tracks like the opening title-cut and “Morning Star,” the more cacophonous “Coil” and duly punishing “Psychic Wound.” Blues? Yes, in places. Celestial? In theme, in its confrontation with dogma, sure. Even more than these, though, Celestial Blues taps into an affecting weight of ambience, such that even the broad string sounds of “Golgotha” feel heavy, and whether a given stretch is loud or quiet, subdued like the first half of “Entwined” or raging like the second, right into the minimalist “Paradise Lost” that finishes, the sense of burden being purposefully conveyed is palpable in the listening experience. No doubt the plaudits will be or are already manifold and superlative, but the work stands up.
Mythic Sunship are a hopeful vision for the future of progressive psychedelic music. Their fifth album and first for Tee Pee Records, Wildfire offers five tracks/45 minutes that alternates between ripping holes in the fabric of spacetime via emitted subspace wavelengths of shredding guitar, sax-led freakouts, shimmer to the point of blindness, peaceful drift and who the hell knows what else is going on en route from one to the other. Because as much as the Copenhagen outfit might jump from one stretch to the next, their fluidity is huge all along the course of Wildfire, which is fortunate because that’s probably the only thing stopping the record from actually melting. Instrumental as ever, I’m not sure if there’s a narrative arc playing out — certainly one can read one between “Maelstrom,” “Olympia,” “Landfall,” “Redwood Grove” and “Going Up” — and if that’s the intention, it maybe pulls back from that “hopeful vision” idea somewhat, at least in theme, if not aesthetic. In any case, the gorgeousness, the electrified vitality in what Mythic Sunship do, continues to distinguish them from their peers, which is a list that is only growing shorter with each passing LP.
I said I was going to preorder this tape and I’m glad I did. Morningstar Delirium‘s half-hour/four-song debut offering is somewhere between an EP and an album — immersive enough to be the latter certainly in its soothing, brooding exploration of sonic textures, not at all tethered to a sonic weight in the dark industrial “Blood on the Fixture” and even less so in the initial minutes of “Silent Travelers,” but not entirely avoiding one either, as in the second half of that latter track some more sinister beats surface for a time. Comprised of multi-instrumentalists/vocalist Kelly Schilling (Dreadnought, BleakHeart) and Clayton Cushman (The Flight of Sleipnir), the isolation-era project feeds into that lockdown atmosphere in moments droning and surging, “Where Are You Going” giving an experimentalist edge with its early loops and later stretch of ethereal slide guitar (or what sounds like it), while closer “A Plea for the Stars” fulfills the promise of its vocalists with a doomed melody in its midsection that’s answered back late, topping an instrumental progression like the isolated weepy guitar of classic goth metal over patiently built layers of dark-tinted wash. Alternating between shorter and longer tracks, the promise in Morningstar Delirium resides in the hope they’ll continue to push farther and farther along these lines of emotional and aural resonance.
Somewhere between spacious goth and garage doom, Russia’s Lunar Funeral find their own stylistic ground to inhabit on their second album, Road to Siberia. The two-piece offer grim lysergics to start the affair on “Introduce” before plunging into “The Thrill,” which bookends with the also-11-minute closer “Don’t Send Me to Rehab” and gracefully avoids going full-freakout enough to bring back the verse progression near the end. Right on. Between the two extended pieces, the swinging progression of “25th Hour” trades brooding for strut — or at least brooding strut — with the snare doing its damnedest by the midsection to emulate handclaps could be there if they could find a way not to be fun. “25th Hour” hits into a wash late and “Black Bones” answers with dark boogie and a genuine nod later, finishing with noise en route to the spacious eight-minute “Silence,” which finds roll eventually, but holds to its engaging sense of depth in so doing, the abiding weirdness of the proceedings enhanced by the subtle masterplan behind it. Airy guitar work winding atop the bassline makes the penultimate “Your Fear is Giving Me Fear” a highlight, but the willful trudge of “Don’t Send Me to Rehab” is an all-too-suitable finish in style and atmosphere, not quite drawing it all together, but pushing it off a cliff instead.
Sludge and narcosadistic doom infest the six-track Espectrofilia from Mexico City four-piece Satánico Pandemonium, who call it an EP despite its topping 40 minutes in length. I don’t know, guys. Electric Wizard are a touchstone to the rollout of “Parábola del Juez Perverso,” which lumbers out behind opener “El Que Reside Dentro” and seems to come apart about two minutes in, only to pick up and keep going. Fucking a. Horror, exploitation, nodding riffs, raw vibes — Satánico Pandemonium have it all and then some, and if there’s any doubt Espectrofilia is worthy of pressing to a 12″ platter, like 2020’s Culto Suicida before it, whether they call it a full-length or not, the downward plunge of the title-track into the grim boogie of “Panteonera” and the consuming, bass-led closer “La Muerte del Sol” should put them to rest with due prejudice. The spirit of execution here is even meaner than the sound, and that malevolence of intent comes through front-to-back.
Kudos to Van Groover on their know-thyself tagline: “We’re not reinventing the wheel, but we let it roll.” The German trio’s 10-track/51-minute debut, Honk if Parts Fall Off, hits its marks in the post-Truckfighters sphere of uptempo heavy fuzz/stoner rock, injecting a heaping dose of smoke-scented burl from the outset with “Not Guilty” and keeping the push going through “Bison Blues” and “Streetfood” and “Jetstream” before “Godeater” takes a darker point of view and “Roadrunner” takes a moment to catch its breath before reigniting the forward motion. Sandwiched between that and the seven-minute “Bad Monkey” is an interlude of quieter bluesy strum called “Big Sucker” that ends with a rickity-sounding vehicle — something tells me it’s a van — starts and “Bad Monkey” kicks into its verse immediately, rolling stoned all the while even in its quiet middle stretch before “HeXXXenhammer” and the lull-you-into-a-false-sense-of-security-then-the-riff-hits “Quietness” finish out. Given the stated ambitions, it’s hard not to take Honk if Parts Fall Off as it comes. Van Groover aren’t hurting anybody except apparently one or two people in the opener and maybe elsewhere in the lyrics. Stoner rock for stoner rockers.
There is not much to which Buenos Aires-based singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Sergio Chotsourian, aka Sergio Ch., is a stranger at this point. In a career that has spanned more than a quarter-century, he’s dipped hands in experimentalist folk and drone, rock, metal, punk, goth and more in varying prolific combinations of them. Koi, his latest full-length, still finds new ground to explore, however, in bringing not only the use of programmed drum beats behind some of the material, but collaborations with his own children, Isabel Ch., who contributes vocals on the closing Nine Inch Nails cover, “Hurt,” which was also previously released as a single, and Rafael “Raffa” Ch., who provides a brief but standout moment just before with a swirling, effects-laced rap tucked away at the end of the 11-minute “El Gran Chaparral.” If these are sentimental inclusions on Chotsourian‘s part, they’re a minor indulgence to make, and along with the English-language “NY City Blues,” the partial-translation of “Hurt” into Spanish is a welcome twist among others like “Tic Tac,” which blend electronic beats and spacious guitar in a way that feels like a foreshadow of burgeoning interests and things to come.
Less than a year removed from their debut full-length, At the Bottom of the Sea, Croatian five-piece Achachak return with the geological-opposite follow-up, High Mountain. With cuts like “Bong Goddess,” “Maui Waui,” they leave little to doubt as to where they’re coming from, but the stoner-for-stoners’-sake attitude doesn’t necessarily account either for the drifty psych of “Biggest Wave” or the earlier nod-out in “Lonewolf,” the screams in the opening title-track or the follow-that-riff iron-manliness of “”Mr. SM,” let alone the social bent to the lyrics in the QOTSA-style “Lesson” once it takes off — interesting to find them delving into the political given the somewhat regrettable inner-sleeve art — but the overarching vibe is still of a band not taking itself too seriously, and the songwriting is structured enough to support the shifts in style and mood. The fuzz is strong with them, and closer “Cozy Night” builds on the languid turn in “Biggest Wave” with an apparently self-aware moody turn. For having reportedly been at it since 1999, two full-lengths and a few others EPs isn’t a ton as regards discography, but maybe now they’re looking to make up for lost time.
It’s almost counterintuitive to think so, but what you see is what you get with mostly-instrumentalist South African western/psych folk duo Rise Up, Dead Man‘s self-titled debut. To wit, the “Bells of Awakening” at the outset, indeed, are bells. “The Summoning,” which follows, hypnotizes with guitar and various other elements, and then, yes, the eponymous “Rise Up, Dead Man,” is a call to raise the departed. I don’t know if “Stolen Song” is stolen, but it sure is familiar. Things get more ethereal as multi-instrumentalists Duncan Park (guitar, vocals, pennywhistle, obraphone, bells, singing bowl) and William Randles (guitar, vocals, melodica, harmonium, violin, bells, singing bowl) through the serenity of “The Wind in the Well” and the summertime trip to Hobbiton that the pennywhistle in “Everything that Rises Must Converge” offers, which is complemented in suitably wistful fashion on closer “Sickly Meadow.” There’s some sorting out of aesthetic to be done here, but as the follow-up just to an improv demo released earlier this year, the drive and attention to detail in the arrangements makes their potential feel all the more significant, even before you get to the expressive nature of the songs or the nuanced style in which they so organically reside.
Yeah, that whole “silence” thing doesn’t last too long on Moving Through Silence. The 51-minute debut long-player from Brugge, Belgium, instrumentalists Atomic Vulture isn’t through opener “Eclipse” before owing a significant sonic debt to Kyuss‘ “Thumb,” but given the way the record proceeds into “Mashika Deathride” and “Coaxium,” one suspects Karma to Burn are even more of an influence for guitarist Pascal David, bassist Kris Hoornaert and drummer Jens Van Hollebeke, and though they move through some slower, more atmospheric stretch on “Cosmic Dance” and later more extended pieces like “Spinning the Titans” (9:02) and closer “Astral Dream,” touching on prog particularly in the second half of the latter, they’re never completely removed from that abiding feel of get-down-to-business, as demonstrated on the roll of “Intergalactic Takeoff” and the willful landing on earth that the penultimate “Space Rat” brings in between “Spinning the Titans” and “Astral Dream,” emphasizing the sense of their being a mission underway, even if the mission is Atomic Vulture‘s discovery of place within genre.
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 3rd, 2021 by JJ Koczan
I missed out on King Woman‘s debut, Created in the Image of Suffering, which Relapse released in 2017, but if the new video for “Morning Star” underscores anything, it’s the urgency of not making the same mistake twice and letting the new album, Celestial Blues, likewise slip. I don’t support or condone smoking cigarettes — that shit’ll kill you — but the song’s got atmospheric depth like it’s tossing you in the basement pit and telling you it puts the lotion on its skin, and all the while it still maintains a melodic presence through Kris Esfandiari‘s vocals. Guess I’ll dig back to the first record ahead of the second one. That takes care of my afternoon, and that’ll do nicely, thank you very much.
Preorders are up and all that stuff, and there are some live dates of varying vagueness below, all courtesy of the PR wire:
KING WOMAN’S HIGHLY ANTICIPATED SOPHOMORE ALBUM, CELESTIAL BLUES, ARRIVES JULY 30 VIA RELAPSE RECORDS
LIVE PERFORMANCES CONFIRMED FOR LOS ANGELES, BROOKLYN & OAKLAND
King Woman, the outfit featuring songwriter, producer, vocalist Kris Esfandiari, return with their eagerly-awaited sophomore album, Celestial Blues (July 30, Relapse Records).
News of the album arrives with a raw, one-take performance “Morning Star”(https://youtu.be/tk-rxh1xmKs), which was directed by Muted Widows.
“Creating this album has brought me great peace and closure,” says Esfandiari of Celestial Blues. “Grateful to finally share it with all of you.”
Celestial Blues was recorded in Oakland, California by GRAMMY-nominated engineer Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Amenra, Oathbreaker). The band is rounded out by drummer Joseph Raygoza and guitar player Peter Arensdorf. Visual collaborations featured in the album packaging were created by Nedda Afsari, Collin Fletcher, and Jamie Parkhurst.
Album pre-orders, including limited-edition vinyl and merch, are available now. Physical pre-orders are available via Relapse’s webstore (bit.ly/kingwomancb), while digital downloads and streaming links can be found here: (orcd.co/kingwomancb).
Celestial Blues tracklist: Celestial Blues Morning Star Boghz Golgotha Coil Entwined Psychic Wound Ruse Paradise Lost
King Woman has confirmed a series of performances in support of the new album. Tickets and VIP Fan Club passes are on-sale this Friday, June 4 at 10 am pacific.
July 30 Los Angeles, CA Lodge Room July 31 Los Angeles, CA Lodge Room
October 15 Brooklyn, NY TBA October 16 Brooklyn, NY TBA October 17 Brooklyn, NY TBA
October 29 Oakland, CA Starline October 30 Oakland, CA Starline October 31 Oakland, CA Starline (covers show)
More than any other single release, Saviours‘ Warship to me epitomizes the generational changeover that began to take place around the mid-2000s in heavy music. Released in 2005 through Level Plane Records, it ran only three songs — “Circle of Servants’ Bodies,” “Christ Hunt” and “Satanic Scriptures” — and was raw to a point of scathing, and yet clearly had its underpinning in heavy rock and doom. More than anything else, it was brash. This was not a humble arrival of a band looking to make their mark. “Circle of Servants’ Bodies” thuds and crashes in with drums, and lumbers its start into the sort of riff that would become the staple diet of a next league of heavy rock and rollers. Saviours had all the swagger of punks who didn’t know what they were doing and an inimitable ferocity born of youth. It’s not that Saviours were the only band out there coming up — it was, as noted, a generational changeover — but Warship was singular in its arrogance.
Who were these kids from Oakland? What right did they have to come out nowhere and play metal like that? Was it even metal? How could it not be?
The gatekeeping at the time was rampant: “Hipster metal.” I dug Saviours but there were plenty of their ilk that seemed to sell it too hard, to posture as though to carry forth a lack of cred, the style over substance. Intervening years would inevitably weed many out, but even by then the rise of other acts to prominence was largely unstoppable. If you’re reading this, you likely don’t need me to narrate the history for you, but the era of heavy rock in which we now exist — the Age of Bandcamp? what else to call it? — set itself forth in the wake of bands like Saviours as its leading ambassadors, eventually rising to take the place of many of the soon-to-be-aged-out statesmen that accused the hipsters of not knowing how to riff because their hair was parted differently or they drank PBR knowing they could afford better.
None of that ever mattered and it certainly doesn’t now. History is written by the victors and the hipsters were right. Just listen to the screams on “Circle of Servants’ Bodies,” the way they seem to gurgle up from the cleaner shouts. You can almost hear the band gnashing its collective teeth. And “Circle of Servants’ Bodies” is the longest and most complex track on Warship. At just over four minutes. Neither “Christ Hunt” nor “Satanic Scriptures” hits three, thrashing and bashing their way through their brief run like the EP is in a hurry to end so the band can get on with the next round of slaughter. Comprised then (I think) of guitarist/vocalist Austin Barber, guitarist Tyler Morris, bassist Cyrus Comiskey — who had also done time in Man’s Ruin Records veterans Drunk Horse a few years earlier — and drummer Scott Batiste (now also in Ides of Gemini), Saviours proved that the genre distinctions of the past weren’t going to cut it and that the lines between metal and rock, thrash and punk and heavy and not were just more stuff to be stomped on their way by.
The first time I recall seeing Saviours was at a record store in Austin, Texas, that was a converted house off the beaten path of Sixth Street and its various celebrations during SXSW. I’m pretty sure it was 2005 because I wound up walking away with a poster of the Warship artwork and they didn’t play for all that long. It was daytime, and they were essentially in a living room, filled with wood bins of CDs, and they were so fucking loud. Stupid loud. Painful volume. I don’t remember what songs they played — I’d assume EP tracks and maybe something that wound up on their 2006 debut LP, Crucifire — but holy crap did the floor shake. Vicious intent, and true to the EP’s title, they seemed to bring the pun on “worship” and a ship of war to life. Unless you were a well-adjusted individual who somehow happened into the room on your way to work or wherever it is well-adjusted people are en route to, I cannot see a way you would’ve left that show not being a fan of the band.
Looking back at the archive, it’s apparently been five years since I last wrote about the band, reviewing (late) their 2015 album, Palace of Vision (review here). They toured to support that record alongside Corrosion of Conformity, Brant Bjork and Mothership, but haven’t been heard from much in the years since. Palace of Vision was their fourth LP, behind 2011’s Death’s Procession, 2009’s Into Abaddon and the aforementioned Crucifire. The last time I saw them was with Clutch in 2012 (review here), and I remember them favorably. In the pantheon of shows I didn’t see for various reasons over the years, I’m sure there are plenty of Saviours gigs I can feel punk rock guilt for not attending.
Righteous as it was and remains, Warship didn’t necessarily represent the band that Saviours wanted to be or became. Even by the time they got the first record out, still on Level Plane, before signing to Kemado and eventually Listenable, their sound was evolving in a cleaner direction that allowed for the refinement that would take place over the better part of the next decade. Their affinity for heavy metal never dissipated, however, and by the time they got around to Palace of Vision, their command of their songwriting and sonic intent. Production from Billy Anderson never hurts either.
I don’t know what’s up with Saviours now, if they’re still “active” in terms of putting new stuff together or if they’ll return after the pandemic wanes or what. Maybe they ran their course. That happens, and with so much of everything in flux, you won’t find me speculating. They could announce a new record tomorrow, or never. Either way, Warship still stands as a testament to the moment of its arrival, and its urgency continues to ring true in understated accomplishment.
As always, I hope you enjoy.
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Most of the week was spent in a daze, to be honest. Last weekend was recovery from the hospital stay with The Pecan and his fractured skull. He was off from (pre-)school on Monday and back on Tuesday. We got a note from one of the aides in his class that he refused to hold the railing on his way off the bus and didn’t want to hold hands either. “Could you please do something about this?” was the gist of the thing. Yeah, let me get right on that. Maybe if I could do something about it, my three year old wouldn’t have fractured his fucking skull.
We did not hear anything else about it, but from what I saw putting him on the bus, he continued to flat out refuse the railing. Dude comes by stubborn as honestly as he possibly could.
He’s got his follow-up with the neurosurgeon today. We kept him out of school basically so I could give him a bath beforehand and not put him in a panic when I went to pick him up early for the appointment. He gets so set in routines, and sometimes it’s good to mess with that — you need to, otherwise you’ve got this kid running your house with toddler logic and fascist intensity — but for something like this, where he’s clearly trying all week to process what happened to him, I’d rather just have him miss the day of tracing letters, which he does at home anyway, than upset him by showing up where I don’t belong. Just trust me when I say that it makes sense for him and would be a big deal, even though it seems like nothing.
I’m writing this as he’s in the bath, playing with himself in the carefree manner of a human without inhibitions. I got up at six and worked on the above, took a break for breakfast with him and then went back to it for a little bit before throwing him in the tub. Minus the throwing. He’s in good spirits today, which is a relief. Most of yesterday was rough, and the day before, as he’s been working back and forth between rounds of Tylenol.
It’s hard to remember he was in the pediatric ICU last weekend until I look at his chest and still see the outlines of the stickies they put on to monitor his vitals. Those will come off eventually. And the bruise from his IV. That’ll go away too.
Today I get my second shot of the COVID-19 vaccine. That’s at 4:33. I need to photocopy my insurance and drivers license and fill out some form. Whatever.
I’m already looking forward to next week, a couple good records I’ll be reviewing: specifically Genghis Tron and Greenleaf. Mars Red Sky are doing a stream today and there’s the Stoner one tomorrow and I’m looking forward to both, despite the drama surrounding the latter.
New Gimme show today 5PM Eastern. It’s a good one.
Between that, the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch for Roadburn Redux and impending PostWax liner note projects, I’m feeling suitably overwhelmed. I’ve also uploaded vocals for a third song with the new project that seems to be taking shape. The second one came back and turned out way, way better than I thought I’d would given the poorly recorded raw tracks I sent over. Might be a band? Might need a name? Something organic. I don’t know.
I wish you a great and safe weekend. Hydrate. Watch your head. All that fun stuff. Back on Monday, and thanks for reading.
Oakland, California’s Cardinal Wyrm will release their fourth full-length, Devotionals, this Friday, Dec. 11. And like its certifiably badass Kim Holm cover art, the independently-issued follow-up to 2016’s Cast Away Souls finds the trio at the entryway of some unknown dungeon, fire and demons filling the sky. And not the kind of dungeon where synth happens either. The kind of dungeon with random-encounter battles and quickly depleting health points. The kind of dungeon in which there inexplicably dwells some kind of octopus monster and if you don’t figure out that its weakness is lightning spells, you’re boned no matter how much you’ve been grinding on the low-yield imps or slimes outside in the forest. Radness ensues, with swinging battle axe, leaping dragoons and, indeed, flashes of elemental magic.
More than a decade on from their inception, Cardinal Wyrm are a band perhaps even more diverse than their pedigree, which includes the deathly likes of Vastum, post-whathaveyou outfit Terebellum and undervalued trad metallers Hammers of Misfortune, among others. Devotionals, as it would, has its paean moments to old gods of metal and otherwise, but instrumentally, there’s such a strong sense of self throughout the eight-track/50-minute run of the LP that they could’ve just as easily called the album ‘iconoclasm.’ Extreme metal intertwines with sludge riffing (“The Abbess”), doom with aggressive hardcore chug (“Selimesh”), deathly growls play off declarative proclamations in “Canticle,” and above all, Devotionals becomes an album of ideas and narrative. The further you go, the deeper you are into the world it makes, and as vocalist/drummer Pranjal Tiwari, bassist/vocalist Leila Abdul-Rauf and guitarist Nathan A. Verrill push through the initial punkish breakout of “Gannet” at the outset and into “Mrityunjaya,” the just-wait-for-the-explosion-it’s-coming “Imposter” and “Selimesh” on side A, already the notion of the album as a journey is palpable and only becomes more so across the second half of the LP as the more extreme aspects are brought to bear.
A strange thing happens when one encounters Devotionals in repeat fashion. Usually with records, the more you hear, the more you know, but Cardinal Wyrm manage to answer engagement with nuance, and there always seems to be something else to hear. That might not seem to be the case on a first listen. One might put it on, be like, “Okay, trad metal, bit of doom, punk, and so on,” and go about the day — and if that’s how you listen to music the first time through, I feel you — but even as the guitar solo rises up in the back end of “Canticle” only to be consumed by howls, or “Abbess” gallops into a wall o’ chug, “Nightmarchers” indulges Candlemassian grandiosity while also coating it in grit and closer “Do We Have Another Battle Left in Us?” offers a questioning self-assessment of the band that of course speaks to much, much more as well in this most confusing and terrible of years, Cardinal Wyrm find persona in grim intricacy, tearing limbs off different microgenres to construct a monster of their own.
My only regret in streaming the album ahead of its release on Friday is not asking permission to post the full lyric sheet, because the words — some more discernible than others in the actual hearing — deserve to be read as well as listened to. Alas. Perhaps you’ll consider this a cue to dig further on your own into the considerable and deeply appreciated text that Tiwari offers below. I know everybody’s busy, but one can hope, and it holds true of Cardinal Wyrm‘s Devotionals that the more you’re willing to put into it, the more you’re going to get out when you ultimately emerge from that dungeon.
Please enjoy:
Pranjal Tiwari on Devotionals:
“Devotionals” was a labor of love. We’re all immensely proud of these songs and put a lot of work into getting them just right. It’s been a somewhat hard road to releasing this album, we pretty much had to do all the heavy lifting ourselves, with no support from labels or anything. At times it really felt like we were crazy, that we were the only people in the world that believed in this record, like some mad group of preachers ranting on a street corner while the world walked past bemused. Add to that the whole saga of physical, mental, and financial turmoil that we’ve all experienced in 2020, it’s pretty much been a shitshow all around. Now that the album is finally seeing the light of day, I think it’s perfect that we chose the title “Devotionals.” It takes something extra to keep going through times like this, it takes an almost fanatical devotion to keep walking a path that can seem both pointless and hopeless. In that sense, it’s also perfect that we put this album out ourselves, because I think that sort of fanatical devotion I’ve described is exactly what fuels the DIY spirit and the independent music scene that we’ve all been a part of for so many years.
There seems to be a lot of talk about whether this record is “doom” or not, even among people who have enjoyed the album. My response is, who cares? This is a Cardinal Wyrm record – and I absolutely think what you’re hearing on “Devotionals” is the culmination of the Cardinal Wyrm sound. For starters, all three of us had a hand in writing and shaping every song on this record at the practice space, it’s our most collaborative album to date. But beyond that, I think you can really hear the sound of a band that loves playing together, and whose members had an absolute blast recording these songs. I think that energy and that spirit shines through. For me, arguing about what category to shoehorn this album into is about as boring as you can get, I’d rather people just take the time to listen to it with an open mind and absorb it for what it is – after that you can call it whatever you like.
Lyrically and thematically, ‘Devotionals’ also goes back to storytelling, telling stories has always been a big thing for us. Every song on this album tells a story, tapping into various strands of mythology both old and new. The opener ‘Gannet’ is about being out of place in the world and the paranoia and anxiety that instills, about being intimately controlled by the all-knowing and negative voices in your head. The track ‘Imposter’ is a story about casting a shadow that has a life of its own, the darkness that stares at you from the other side of the mirror.
Other tracks on the album are more literal in their storytelling. ‘Mrityunjaya’, for example, the title means ‘death conqueror’ in Hindi or Sanskrit, and it’s a term associated with the story of Karna from the Hindu epic, the Mahabharata. Karna is such a great and evocative character, rejected at birth by those who should have raised him and cared for him, but realizing his life’s potential through loyalty and love to those who took him in, eventually fighting against his blood relatives to defend his chosen family. The song isn’t a literal retelling of the tale, it’s only very loosely based on Karna, sort of reimagining him as a stray wolf that finds a pack to run with. Probably because we all love rescue dogs so much.
The tracks ‘Canticle’ and ‘Abbess’ are both stories about false promises. ‘Canticle’ is the age-old tale of meeting the devil at the crossroads, told from the point of view of the devil making the listener an offer. ‘Abbess’ is a similar tale from the point of view of the one taking the bargain, a story about being seduced by a mirage, and made to do terrible things by the fear of being forgotten.
The final song on the album, “Do We Have Another Battle Left In Us?” is both a question and a rallying cry. Old friends gather and raise drinks to remember the trials they’ve shared and overcome. They toast to all they have loved and lost and those that remain. On the horizon, the enemy recoups their forces and presses forward. Our friends stand, lay hands on their weapons and wonder if they still have the strength to draw them again. “I think right now in the world, everyone is tired, physically and mentally, especially after the year that 2020 has been, and faced with a future that seems so hopeless. It’s a genuine question at this point – can we, do we want to keep going? It’s terrifying, but also thrilling to face that head on, and to forge your own path into the future.
There’s a lot going on musically too. I think the riffs are more intricate and the song structures are tighter than on previous albums. The overall feel is one of shorter and more driving bursts, and I wouldn’t say the whole thing is FAST, but it feels just a little bit faster than before. As one of the lines in the track “Nightmarchers” proclaims, “this beast has a bite.””
CARDINAL WYRM is embodied by lead vocalist/drummer Pranjal Tiwari (S.C.R.A.M.), bassist/vocalist Leila Abdul-Rauf (Vastum, Terebellum, Hammers Of Misfortune, Fyrhtu), and guitarist/vocalist Nathan A. Verrill (Terebellum, Fyrhtu). The follow-up to their Cast Away Souls album, released via Svart Records in 2016, Devotionals can be described as heavy, intricate, driving, progressive, and genre-bending music that seeks to tell a story.
Devotionals was recorded and mixed by Greg Wilkinson at Earhammer Studios (Necrot, Vastum, Brainoil) and mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege (Obituary, Sunn O))), Vastum). The record features striking cover artwork by Kim Holm, photography by Michael Thorn and Amy Oshit, and layout/design by Shelby Lermo.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 16th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Doom and metal! Cardinal Wyrm will do the self-release thing with their upcoming fourth LP, set to arrive Dec. 11. Given the title Devotionals, the impending outing is given its first official airing with the track “Nightmarchers” that you can hear below, and yes, it is doom, and yes, it is metal. I haven’t had the chance to dig into the rest of the record yet, but will do so and report back accordingly, even as the release date fast approaches. Note that it’s a tape and digital-only offering. Bold move, doomers. I like it.
Maybe they’re waiting for someone else to pick it up on vinyl — certainly the Kim Holm cover art warrants the larger presentation — but either way, for those chasing down the digital, it should be easy enough to find. For example, the links below.
Dig it:
CARDINAL WYRM: Oakland Doom Metal Trio With Members Of Vastum, Terebellum, And More To Release Fourth Album, Devotionals; “Nightmarchers” Streaming + Preorders Posted
Long-running Oakland, California-based doom metal band CARDINAL WYRM is preparing to release their fourth album, Devotionals, on December 11th. Alongside the album’s details, cover art, and preorders, the song “Nightmarchers” has been made available for streaming.
CARDINAL WYRM’s Devotionals can be described as heavy, intricate, driving, progressive, and genre bending music that seeks to tell a story. The album features Pranjal Tiwari (S.C.R.A.M.) on drums and lead vocals, Nathan A. Verrill (Terebellum, Fyrhtu) on guitars and backing vocals, and Leila Abdul-Rauf (Vastum, Terebellum, Hammers Of Misfortune, Fyrhtu) playing bass and providing additional vocals.
The follow-up to their Svart Records-released 2016 album Cast Away Souls, CARDINAL WYRM’s Devotionals was recorded and mixed by Greg Wilkinson at Earhammer Studios (Necrot, Vastum, Brainoil) and mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege (Obituary, Sunn O))), Vastum). The album is completed with cover artwork by Kim Holm, photography by Michael Thorn and Amy Oshit, and layout/design by Shelby Lermo.
CARDINAL WYRM will self-release Devotionals on cassette and across all digital service providers on December 11th. Find preorder options HERE and watch for a vinyl edition likely early next year.
Devotionals Track Listing: 1. Gannet 2. Mrityunjaya 3. Imposter 4. Selimesh 5. Canticle 6. Abbess 7. Nightmarchers 8. Do We Have Another Battle Left In Us?
With this release, “We wanted to go back to our DIY roots,” says drummer and vocalist Pranjal Tiwari. “One of the reasons we liked the title Devotionals is because it evokes that DIY spirit. This is a collection of songs for the faithful, for our community of people devoted to staying independent, to creating the music and art that we want, in our own spaces, and growing in our ability to channel from deep within. It often feels like we share a devotion to something that seems hopeless and is constantly under attack. But at the root of it all, there’s a fanatical belief in pulling off what other people think is impossible, and we wanted to go back and draw from that in making this album.”
CARDINAL WYRM: Leila Abdul-Rauf – bass, vocals Pranjal Tiwari – drums, lead vocals, lyrics Nathan A. Verrill – guitars, vocals
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 28th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Lest they be accused of taking the rest of the year off after putting out May’s Earhammer Sessions (review here) live-in-studio affair, Oakland heavy metal rockers War Cloud have a new two-song EP out next month called Chain Gang. The release, once again through Ripple Music, brings together a track written immediately following their European tour — which would seem to have been a transformative experience for them as a band, considering they recorded Earhammer Sessions as a means of building off the energy of that tour as well — and a track tracked by Steve “Thee Slayer Hippy” Hanford, whose posthumous tribute to Blue Öyster Cult is also seeing release soon through Ripple and in which War Cloud are also talking part. Presumably the two were recorded at the same time, but I guess one never knows.
The PR wire brought art and details about Chain Gang thusly:
Prolific Rapid-Fire Metallers WAR CLOUD Drop Energized “Chain Gang” EP
Searing 2-song blast channels the band’s furious power ahead of expected new album in 2021
Quickly becoming one of Ripple Music’s most prolific bands, War Cloud returns just a few months behind their high-octane Earhammer Sessions with the two-song Chain Gang EP.
The title track was written in Vigone, Italy during a few days off after their last European tour while staying at a recording/rehearsal space called Positive Music. Says singer/guitarist Alex Wein:
“Positive Music is a secluded spot. No distractions. This was the first time we actually got to write as an entire band, with the current lineup, so there’s a lot of energy between all the members. We kept sharing riffs, lyrics, and bands we were vibe’n on the entire tour. You could feel a song shaping through all our conversations. After playing a show one night in Vigone, we went to the town’s local hangout bar and started coming up with a melody for the tune. We wanted this song to express how we’ve grown as a band: Dirty, raw, and heavy. Bad boys who don’t care. The opening line is a tribute to one of the bands favorite songwriters, Lemmy Kilmister. “Judge says I’m guilty of being born / the only thing I did was what I want” That’s our way of way of saying fuck it.”
The second song is a cover of a Rock Goddess song. Recorded in the summer of 2019 in an old empty house in the woods outside of Portland, Oregon by Thee Slayer Hippy, Steve Hanford, and mixed/mastered by Nocturnal Media in Louisville, Kentucky, this burst of metal godliness features guest vocals by Janiece Gonzalez of San Francisco’s Wild Eyes.
Chain Gang will be released on digital formats from Ripple Music on September 25th.
WAR CLOUD: Alex Wein – Vocals/Guitar Nick Burks – Guitar Joaquin Ridgell – Drums Sam Harman – Bass
