Quarterly Review: Ruff Majik, Green Desert Water, Go Mahhh, Heath, The Crooked Skulls, Broadslab, Purple Skies, Red Beard Wall, White Tundra, Past the Light
Posted in Reviews on May 21st, 2026 by JJ Koczan
And so we reach the penultimate day of this Quarterly Review; whichever quarter it is, I neither know nor particularly care, I’m just happy to be writing.
It’s been solid days so far. Yesterday was a little harried on timing, but that’s as close to an actual snag as I’ve gotten, which I’m happy to say. The music’s been good, the images and embeds have either been there already or have been easy to find, and there were only one or two things I had to replace along the way because they weren’t coming out for like another couple months. I’ve never been able to keep track of release dates.
I thought about putting a thing in the sidebar so people could list stuff and each week there would be a list, but I feel like I’d be the only one doing it and that’s not how I want to spend my limited time. I want to spend it writing, so I do. And no, it’s not even a little lost on me what a gift that is. It’s why I keep telling you my wife is so amazing. Part of why, anyhow.
We wrap tomorrow, so here’s today.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Ruff Majik, Tan Halen
The central thesis of Ruff Majik‘s recent single “Tan Halen”, that “Sundays are for surfing,” becomes the hook and foundation of this four-song EP of the same name that’s the band’s most substantial offering since they ended a relatively brief hiatus at the start of this year. On the four-track outing, “Tan Halen” is accompanied by “Tvn Hvlen (Tvpe Mix),” which sounds more compressed and vocals-forward, the haggardly swaggering prior single “For the Life of Me,” here presented in an alternate mix that in its maddening chorus brings up the snare and feels more chaotic at the end, and lastly, “Tan Halen (Too Much Fuzz, Not Enough Drums),” which is true more on the second account than the first — how much fuzz is too much for Ruff Majik? is that a pinnacle that’s yet been reached? — but with the drums lower in the mix and the filthy tones surrounding has kind of a garage rock feel, which again, is fair enough for a song about surfing. Only missing here is their first 2026 single, “Can of Wyrms” (posted here), but you can’t have everything. I’m just glad they’re putting out new music.
Sound of Liberation Records store
—
Green Desert Water, Eerie Meadows
Releasing through Small Stone Records (US) and Kozmik Artifactz (EU), Spanish classic heavy rockers Green Desert Water bring warmth to boogie and once again distill decades of influence into a cohesive, movement-minded, dynamic package. Eerie Meadows is their third album and in pieces like “The Blacksmith” near the outset or the sweeping “Wolfhound” and shuffling “Bos Primigenius” ahead of the finale “Meteora” on side B, they make it all sound easy, natural, like it couldn’t be any other way. The way that happens is through command of craft, and Green Desert Water are there too in the push of fuzz that emerges at the end of soulful leadoff “Northern Lights,” the bluesier “Holy Ground” and the big crashes/softshoe of the title-track, the trio having constructed songs that can have been worked on but don’t feel like, that engage without cloying, and which thrill in their sundry twists and redirects. I’m not sure what more one could ask of them.
—
Go Mahhh, Doppelgänger
No, I don’t think Berlin newcomers Go Mahhh are the first to posit themselves as being “as high as the mountain,” as they do on opener “High Mountain,” in the stonerly genres, but their tight and heavy psychedelic rock comes through as inherited, and songs like “Happy Satan’s Reign” and the proto-chugging “BBSBBQ,” the kraut-dancey “Anatoliosis” and the percussively shuffling “The Sun King” offer variety united by an underlying current of weirdness. Perhaps it’s all leading to the seven-minute finale “Mind Aussalt” (sic), with its drift and drone and ’60s guitar earlier on, but the band never rest too long in one place, be it the buzzing roll of “Blood Transfusion” or the interlude “MSAZ-20,” with intertwining lines of standalone guitar. Part of me wants to talk about the potential for growth here and the idea that Go Mahhh are debuting with significant range on Doppelgänger, but honestly, the spirit of the album is so much more about the joy of exploration that pulling myself out of the moment feels inappropriate. Some records, you just want to go where they take you.
—
Heath, Murmurations
Heath‘s 2024 debut, Isaak’s Marble (review here) offered hints of progressivism to come, but Murmurations goes to another level, digging in across three tracks to recharacterize their sound from boogie traditionalism to something more expansive and their own. The two-minute mostly-vocals intro “Exordium in D Minor” leads into two 15-minutes-each cuts “Murmurations” and “Nosedive,” and while clearly jam-based, the two songs follow plotted, sometimes winding courses, still keeping a classic feel but lighting a fire under it by the time the title-track is through. Comprising what I assume is the entirety of side B, “Nosedive” unfolds patiently with Rhodes ambience and a gradual build of guitar, working its way to and through a build that hits into surprising heft before its done but makes its core impression in its burner midsection, because nothing tops a crescendo like another, slower, crashing crescendo. It’s like the chemistry here is slapping you in the face, and with the growth they show in this material, Heath‘s limits feel far off on the horizon.
—
The Crooked Skulls, Midnight Sun
There’s no obfuscation on The Crooked Skulls‘ debut full-length, Midnight Sun. The New Jersey crunch-riffers come right at you with it: thick tones, gravel-throated vocals, and an overarching groove somewhere between slower Orange Goblin and classic Corrosion of Conformity, leaving room for a bit of shove in “Skull Bong” and “Broken” while the mostly-instrumental “Slowsteal” cuts the pace and unfolds with an airier solo in its second half as part of a righteously nodding culmination. Elsewhere, the urgency of centerpiece “Let Me Out” reminds of The Obsessed riding the line between rock and doom, and the penultimate “Iron Smile” brings no less than Fu Manchu‘s Bob Balch in for an expectedly shredding guest guitar spot. Even there, The Crooked Skulls aren’t up to anything too fancy. They’re not looking to dizzy you with complexity so much as dizzy you with a fist upside the head, and that edge of East Coast confrontationalism becomes part of what makes their material feel so immediate in its execution right unto closer “Judgement Day,” which holds its burl through the finish. No tricks, but songs.
Electric Desert Records website
—
Broadslab, The Fifth Essence
A healthy dose of Pentagram-style doom boogie pervades Broadslab‘s The Fifth Essence, and reasonably so as the Mike Dean-produced, Raleigh, North Carolina-based four-piece make their way to the nine-minute organ-laced capper “Constellations” through the classic swing of “Animal Divinity” and “Leslie” at the outset, setting an energetic and stage-ready tone for what follows, the interlude “Alienation” ahead of the all-in shred and burl of side A closer/centerpiece “Shameful Reality,” a more aggressive take than either of the first two cuts, but the beginning rather than the end of their branching out therefrom. The seven-minute “Keep on Rollin'” (not a Samavayo cover) and “Constellations” comprise most of side B, with the longer interlude “Quintessence” between, duly subdued to lead the way from the dual-vocal-style shove of the song before into the immediate kick the band deliver on their way to the extended jamming that carries them out. This might be their first record in 12 years? All the more of an occasion, then.
Electric Desert Records website
—
Purple Skies, A Million Years
Bergen, Norway’s Purple Skies make their long-play debut with A Million Years, and thereby foster a sound that’s informed by retroism without actually sounding like it was recorded on vintage gear. That is, as “Haven” and “Too Worn to Tell” demonstrate, they aren’t beholden to a vintage aesthetic, despite influence by bands like Witchcraft (which you can hear in the vocals as well as the guitar progressions they follow) and whichever of their acolytes you’d prefer to namedrop. That doesn’t account for everything on the nine-song A Million Years — to wit, the harmonies on the title-track — but it’s a start and so is the record. They seem to find another layer of tonal depth for “Worthless Men,” and it’s perhaps telling that both of the closing duo of “Archaic Freeway” and “Red Road” are in some way about transportation, because movement is an important factor the whole way through. I wouldn’t say it’s all forward-thinking — having a song called “Bitchcraft” in 2026 is a downer — but they give themselves something to work from in these songs and one will be curious to hear how they refine over time what this material lays out so organically.
—
Red Beard Wall, F.T.W.
The verses are a little more opaque in their biting, harsh-throated sludgecore screams — Ken-E Bones of Negative Reaction comes to mind — but there’s no mistaking the point of view in the hook of “F.T.W.”: “Fuck the world/Fuck AI/Realize the billionaires want us all to die,” and so on. Kudos to Texas’ Red Beard Wall for having a not-shitty opinion. “F.T.W.,” which indeed is restored to its pre-Millennial acronymic purpose (this is not “For the Win,” it’s “Fuck the World”), is joined by the likewise structured “W.A.N.T.S.” (“We Are Not the Same”), and in neither case is Red Beard Wall mainman Aaron “He of the Red Beard” Wall fucking around. “W.A.N.T.S.” uses meme culture to convey no less disaffection than the song before it, and is accordingly castigating as it shifts into a chug worthy of Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol before its sub-four-minutes are up. The above-noted hook of “F.T.W.” is the frame for the short offering and maybe the most fitting summary of Wall‘s lyrical point of view, but shit, it’s not like he’s wrong, politically or in the riffs. It might not change the world, but it’s a well earned lashing out thereupon.
—
White Tundra, Stories From the Dark
Trondheim’s White Tundra debuted in 2023 with their self-titled LP (review here) on Apollon Records before aligning with Argonauta imprint Octopus Rising for the six-song/37-minute follow-up full-length, Stories From the Dark. The second offering demonstrates more than a handful of positive lessons from the first, including the uptempo swing at the start of “Healer” and the symmetry across the album’s two sides, each of which works from its shortest to its longest inclusion. Fortunately, to coincide with this, their niche feels even more dug out as their own here, with deep fuzz and gravelly vocals as mainstay elements uniting the material, be it the spacious, eponymous closer “White Tundra” or the extra-dense-seeming nod of “The Lake” just before it. There’s more to discover in their songwriting — that is, I don’t think they’re done growing — but their ideas are surpassing their influences now in a way they weren’t three years ago, and for sure it’ll be a third record I’m going to watch for. Incremental, natural growth underway.
—
Past the Light, EP
Titled simply EP, this three-song/15-minute pummeler draws together aspects of war/death metal and sets them in a context led by riffs, so that the battle-themed horrors of “Trench Division” and the roll of “Bog Bodies” and the lurch early in “Venomous Trait” balance extremity and accessibility in a way that feels like someone should probably send it to Fenriz. Has Fenriz heard this yet? It’s the band’s first release — the lineup includes Jason Brackin, Chad Remains (Ghorot, ex-Uzala), Jacob Depolitte and Marco Gonzalez, or so I’m told — and somewhat indistinguishable from a demo for that, but the fact is that while they might be outwardly basking in a kind of metallic primitivism, knuckle-dragging their and your way to oblivion with only gutturalisms for comfort, there’s no time wasted on EP in informing the listener who Past the Light are and what are their intentions in grim bludgeonry. Telling of things to come? I know better than to predict, but there’s intricacy amid the slaughter if you’re willing to hear it. The test is on you as the listener, whether and for how long you can hang in.
—
