Posted in Whathaveyou on May 27th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
With a densely-weighted post-Ministry blowout and chug, the lead single from Black Magnet‘s third long-player, Megamantra, titled “Endless,” conjures depths in the spirit of its title even as it unfolds across a sub-three-minute runtime. This kind of churn doesn’t just happen. The Oklahoma City industrialists will release Megamantra through Federal Prisoner, and with production by Sanford Parker (who’s no stranger to dark, hard-hitting electronic fare), there’s heft to go around. I haven’t heard the full thing yet, but if it’s all this and it’s 20 minutes long or it’s an hour and a half and the rest is spaced-out disaffection, or maybe somewhere in the middle, I won’t complain.
But you should check it out, the song that is, because to me it’s what living in the United States right now feels like, and maybe some of that experience can be conveyed to you if you’re lucky enough to be elsewhere.
July 25 is the release date, as per the PR wire:
BLACK MAGNET: Industrial Metal Unit To Release Crushing Third LP, Megamantra, July 25th On Federal Prisoner; “Endless” Video/Single And Preorders Posted
Midwestern US-based industrial metal outfit BLACK MAGNET arrives with its gnarled third album, Megamantra, confirmed for release July 25th on Federal Prisoner.
BLACK MAGNET is the progenitor group of the new wave of American industrial metal. The band’s influences range from Godflesh and Nine Inch Nails, to Deftones and Alice in Chains. Formerly the solo project of founder James Hammontree, the group has expanded into a trio and now into a quartet, some of the members also collectively playing with the likes of All Your Sisters, Destroyer Destroyer, Greg Puciato, and more. Following two acclaimed albums on 20 Buck Spin among numerous singles and an EP and having morphed into a solid touring act in recent years, opening for 3Teeth, Code Orange, and Author & Punisher, BLACK MAGNET has become one of the most revered acts in the genre.
BLACK MAGNET now presents its most ambitious work yet, with the crushing Megamantra. A dense and dynamic album which sees the band taking its steadfast approach to both harsher and infectious realms simultaneously, with an almost punk-inspired anthemic and energetic attack. With passages drenched in searing synths and jagged, grinding riffs, the album pounds forward like an unstoppable machine – oscillating between mechanical precision and suffocating tension, encapsulating the inescapable cycles of control, submission, and decay that define the modern landscape. With Megamantra, it’s clear BLACK MAGNET plays heavy guitar-focused music.
Recorded at Earth Analogue Studio, once again engineered and mixed by Sanford Parker (Voivod, Yob, Rwake), Megamantra features additional synthesizers and background vocals by Eric Gorman. The album was mastered by Vlado Meller (Johnny Cash, Prince, Beastie Boys) and completed with artwork and design by Jesse Draxler (Kendrick Lamar, Emma Ruth Rundle, Full Of Hell), who, with Greg Puciato (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers), co-founded BLACK MAGNET’s new label, Federal Prisoner.
The lead single from the album, “Endless,” sets the tone for the album’s sonic and thematic direction – a relentless, mechanized mantra of distortion, repetition, and raw power, embodying the claustrophobic energy of a world trapped in perpetual collapse. Accompanying the release is a stark, high-contrast music video – an abstract descent into the core of BLACK MAGNET’s sonic dystopia.
Hammontree writes with the “Endless” single, “‘Endless’ is about reclaiming identity through sheer force of will—cutting through delusion, refusing pity, and standing in the raw, merciless truth of who you are. It’s not about redemption—it’s about domination of the self.”
Megamantra Track Listing: 1. Wound Signal 2. Endless 3. Better Than Love 4. Spitting Glass 5. Coming Back Again 6. Null + Void 7. Night Tripping 8. Birth 9. Smokeskreen
Additional singles will drop ahead of the album’s release.
BLACK MAGNET is also booking live events to support Megamantra, with several Summer gigs confirmed including a set at Heavy Hell Festival with Six Feet Under, Master, Thou, and more in September, and a more intensified album tour currently being booked. Stand by for additional news on this front to be dispatched shortly.
BLACK MAGNET Live: 7/06/2025 The Sanctuary – Oklahoma City, OK w/ Planning For Burial, Mary Mortem 9/02/2025 Rubber Gloves – Denton, TX w/ Wargasm 9/20/2025 Heavy Hell Festival @ Black Circle – Indianapolis, IN w/ Six Feet Under, Master, Thou
BLACK MAGNET Megamantra Lineup: James Hammontree – vocals, guitar Ryne Bratcher – guitar Jared Branson – drums Eric Gorman – synth, vocals
BLACK MAGNET Current Lineup: James Hammontree – vocals, guitar Ryne Bratcher – guitar Jared Branson – bass Noah Taylor – drums
Posted in Reviews on April 15th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I won’t keep you long here. Today is the last day of this Quarterly Review. It’ll return in July, if all goes according to my plans. I hope in the last seven days of posts you’ve been able to find a release, a band, a song, that’s hit you hard and made your day better. Ultimately that’s why we’re here.
No grand reflections — this is business-as-usual by now for me — but I’ll say that most of this QR was a pleasure to mine through and I’ve added a few releases to my notes for the Best of 2025 come December. If you have too, awesome. If not, there’s still one more chance.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
Daevar, Sub Rosa
While Sub Rosa still basks in the murky sound with which Köln-based doomers Daevar set forth not actually all that long ago — they’re barely an earth-year removed from their second LP, Amber Eyes (review here), and just two from their debut, 2023’s Delirious Rites (review here) — there’s an unquestionable sense of refinement to its procession. “Wishing Well” moves but isn’t rushed. Opener “Catcher in the Rye” feels expansive but is four minutes long. It goes like this. Through most of the 31-minute seven-songer, including the “Hey Bacchus” strum at the start of “Siren Song,” Daevar seem to be working to strip their approach to its most crucial elements, and when they arrive at the seven-minute finale “FDSMD,” there’s a purposeful shift to a more patient roll. But the flow within and between tracks is still very much an asset for Daevar as they take full ownership of their sound. This is not a minor moment for this band, and feels indicative of future direction. Something tells me it won’t be that long before we find out if it is.
The follow-up to Rainbows Are Free‘s impressive 2023 outing, Heavy Petal Music (review here), Silver and Gold is the Norman, Oklahoma, six-piece’s fifth album since 2010 and second through Ripple Music. With nine songs that foster psychedelic breadth and tonal largesse alike, the album still has room for frontman Brandon Kistler to lend due persona, and in pairing sharp-cornered progressive lead work on guitar with lower-frequency grooves, Rainbows Are Free feel ‘classic’ in a very modern way. They remain capable of being very, very heavy, as crescendos like “Sleep” and “Hide” reaffirm near the record’s middle, but emphasize aural diversity whether it’s the garage march of “Fadeaway,” the barer thrust of “Dirty” or “Runnin’ With a Friend of the Devil” earlier on, of which the reference is only part of the charm being displayed. Rarely does a band so obviously mature in their craft still sound so hungry to find new ideas in their music.
The pedigreed spacefaring trio Minerall — guitarist Marcel Cultrera (Speck), bassist/synthesist Dave “Sula Bassana” Schmidt (Sula Bassana, Zone Six, etc.), and drummer Tommy Handschick (Kombynat Robotron, Earthbong) — return with two more side-long jams on Strömung, captured at the same two-day 2023 session that produced their early-2024 debut, Bügeln (review here). If you find yourself clenching your stomach in the first half of “Strömung” (19:35) on side A, don’t forget to breathe, and don’t worry, opportunity to do so is coming as the three-piece deconstruct and rebuild the jam toward a fuzzy payoff, only to raise “Welle” (20:24) from its minimalist outset to what seems like the apex at the midpoint only to blow it out the airlock in the song’s back half. That must have been one hell of a 48 hours.
By the time its five minutes are up, “Resources 2.0” has taken its title word and turned it into an insistent, chunky, noise-rocking sneer, still adjacent to the chicanery-laced psych of the song’s earlier going, but a definite fuck-you to modernity, evoking ideas of exploitation of people, places and everything. Philadelphia duo Deathbird Earth — first names only: BJ (Dangerbird, Hulk Smash) and Dave (Psychic Teens, etc.) — offer three songs on Mission, which has the honesty to bill itself as a demo, and from “Resources 2.0” they move into the sub-two-minute “Mission 1.0,” more ambient and laced with samples. The only song without a version number in its title, “Dead Hands” finds the duo likewise indebted to Chrome and Nirvana for a burst-prone, keyboardier vision of gritty spacepunk, vocal bite and all, but honestly, Mission feels like the tip of an experimentalism only beginning to reveal its destructive tendencies. Looking forward to more.
Approaching the 20th anniversary of the band next year, now-more-upstate New York heavy rockers Thinning the Herd return after 12 years with Cull, their third album. Guitarist/vocalist Gavin Spielman in 2023 recruited drummer Rob Sefcik (Begotten, Kings Destroy, Electric Frankenstein, etc.), and as a trio-sounding duo with Spielman adding bass, they dig into 11 raw, DIY rockers that, as one makes their way through the opening title-track, “Monopolist” and “Heady Yeti” and “Burn Ban” — themes from not-in-the-city-anymore prevalent throughout, alongside weed, beer, life, getting screwed over, and so on — play out in fuzzbuzz-grooving succession. Two late instrumentals, “Electric Lizard of Gloom” and the lush, unplugged “Acustank,” provide a breather from the riffs and gruff vibes, the latter with a pickin’-on-doom kind of feel, but across the whole it’s striking how atmospheric Cull is while presenting itself as straightforward as possible.
Let The Edge of Oblivion stand for the righteousness of anti-trend doom. You know what I’m talking about. Not the friendly doom that’s out there weed-worshiping and making friends, but the crunching doom metal proffered by the likes of Cathedral and Saint Vitus. Doom that wore is Sabbathianism as a badge of honor all the more for the fact that, at the time they were doing it, it was so much against the status quo of cool. Phantom Druid‘s fourth album is similarly strident and sure of its approach, and yeah, if you want to say some of the chug in “The 5th Mystical Assignment” sounds like Sleep, I won’t argue. Sleep liked Sabbath too. But the crawl in “Realms of the Unreal” and the dirge in instrumental “The Silent Observer” tell it. This is doom that knows and believes in this form, and is strident and reverential in its making. That “Admiration of the Abyss” caps could hardly be more appropriate. Hail the new truth.
Some context may apply. Kodok is the third long-player from adventurous Cambridge, UK, heavy post-rock/metallers The Grey, as well as their first outing through Majestic Mountain Records, and though much of what the band has done to this point is instrumental and that’s still a big part of who they are as 11:45 opener/longest track (immediate points) “Painted Lady” readily demonstrates, there’s a clear-eyed partial divergence from the norm as guitarist Charlie Gration, bassist Andy Price and drummer Steve Moore welcome guests throughout like Grady Avenell, who adds post-hardcore scathe to “Sharpen the Knife” ahead of the crushing “CHVRCH,” also released as a single, or fattybassman and Ace Skunk Anasie, who appear on the duly textural “AFG,” which also rounds out with a dARKMODE remix. Not a typical release, maybe, but not not either as the band do more than haphazardly insert these guests into their songs; there is a full-length album flow from front to back here, and while they purposefully push limits, the underlying three-piece serve as the unifying factor for the material as perhaps they inevitably would.
With a forward lumber marked by rigorous crash and suitably dense tone, Sun Below‘s apparently-standalone 12-minute single Mammoth’s Tundra tells the story of a wooly mammoth being reborn — I think not through techbro genetic dickery, unlike that dire-wolf story that was going around last week — and laying waste to the ecosystem of the tundra, remaking the food change in its aggro image. Fair enough. The Toronto trio likely recorded “Mammoth’s Tundra” at the same Jan. 2023 sessions that produced their Sept. 2023 split, Inter Terra Solis (review here), and whether you’re here for the immersive groove that rises from the gradual outset, the shred emerging in the second half, or that last meme-ready return of the riff at the end, complete with final slowdown — what? you thought they’d leave you hanging? — they leave the Gods of Stone and Riff smiling. Worship via volume, distortion, and nod.
It’s been nine years since Montreal’s Tumbleweed Dealer released their third album, but as the fourth, Dark Green offers instrumentalist narrative and a range of outside contributions to expand the sound and maybe make up for lost time. Across 10 tracks and 39 minutes, bassist/guitarist Seb Painchaud, synthesist/producer Jean-Baptiste Joubaud and drummer Angelo Fata broaden their arrangements to include Mellotron, Hammond, Wurlitzer, Rhodes and other keys as well as what basically amounts to a horn section on several tracks, the first blares in “Becoming One with the Bayou” somewhat jarring but coming to make their own kind of sense there and in the subsequent “Dragged Across the Wetlands,” the sax in “Body of the Bog,” and so on. These elements seem to be built around the core performances of the trio, but the going is remarkably fluid despite the range, and though it seems counterintuitive to think of a band who might end a record with a song called “A Soul Made of Sludge” as being progressive and considered in their craft, that’s very clearly what’s happening here.
Electronic dub, pop, death metal, glitchy electronics, krautrock synth, malevolent distortion, some far-off falsetto and some throatgurgling crust — it can only be the always-busy anti-genre activist Collyn McCoy (Unida, High Priestess, Circle of Sighs, etc.) mashing together ideas and making it work. To wit, “Alkahest” (17:36) and “Witchchrist” (16:03) both engage in sound design and worldmaking, take on pop, industrial and metallic aspects, and are an album unto themselves, hypnotic and experimental, the latter marked by a darker underlying drone that lasts until the whole song dissipates. “Necrotic Prayer” (7:28) feels more like collage by the time it gets to its surprise-here’s-a-ripper-guitar-solo-over-that-circa-’92-industrial-beat, but it still has a groove, and “Plutonic” (8:30) moves through static drone and seen-on-TV sampling through death-techno (god I love death techno) to croon, churn out with a sci-fi overlord, and finish with piano and voice; a misdirecting contemplative turn worthy of Sleepytime Gorilla Museum. McCoy is a genius and the world will never be ready for these sounds. That’s as plain as I can say it.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 9th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Eclectic heavy progressives Rainbows Are Free are set to make their label debut on Ripple Music as winter thaws, with a March 7 release lined up for Silver and Gold. I count it as their fifth record overall and the PR wire below puts it at their fourth, but either way, the band reach 15 years since their debut EP, and in that time, they’ve fostered an expansive sound with a clear mind toward adventure in songwriting. You can hear that in the semi-lurch chug that resolves “Sleep,” the album’s first single. It’s a cool, casual flow, semi-psych but not too tripped out, soul in the vocals, and I’m sure represents only a fraction of what the band have in store throughout the LP.
They’ve been somewhat undervalued up to this point — their last album was 2023’s Heavy Petal Music (review here) — so I’m curious to see how Ripple‘s built-in listenership takes to them and where the band go with their sound. Part of the appeal for me to this point in their work is the fact that you can’t really predict it and the band are able to build trust in their audience regardless. It’s not an inconsiderable accomplishment.
Info from the PR wire:
RAINBOWS ARE FREE to issue new album “Silver and Gold” on Ripple Music this spring; watch new video “Sleep” now.
US heavy psychedelic and progressive rockers RAINBOWS ARE FREE announce the upcoming release of their fourth studio album “Silver and Gold” this March 7th on Ripple Music, and present their new video for “Sleep” today.
Rainbows Are Free’s sonic pedigree appears on the rock n’ roll family tree at the point where proto-metal and heavy psychedelia shared a common apocryphal ancestor before branching off into their own distinct lineages. Their fourth studio record “Silver and Gold” is a dark-tinged, heavy offering that immediately conjures a sense of foreboding right out of the gates – a comforting dreariness that the band embraces to channel their sonic attack. They are at peace here, if not at home.
The sonic assault continues as the band pummels the listener with crunchy guitars erupting into explosive leads that ride upon a driving rhythm section, held together by a lattice of spacey synth and guitar atmospherics. Rainbows Are Free’s soundscape is further cemented by lead singer Brandon Kistler’s soaring, crooning, and at times snarling, vocal fury. In all, the heavy psych alchemy at work on the album is apparent in their multi-faceted sound that spins proggy riffs, sexy groove magick, garage surf-rock, and even a death metal inspired ripper into “Silver and Gold” as a varied, but cohesive listening experience.
About the new single “Sleep”, vocalist Brandon Kistler comments: “Lyrically, it’s pretty straight ahead, and I’m most proud of the chorus for its honesty about society today and how we perceive it. It’s very relatable to how I felt at the time. My favorite line is, “We can’t let it break, no it can’t be broke.” I’m referring to society as a whole, and I was thinking about my children and the future of that society when I ad-libbed that line… we have to make it work.”
Often appearing in costumed stage dress, the band, fronted by the soaring and snarling nigh 7-foot cyclone of weirdness that is Brandon Kistler, continues to shock and amaze fans by introducing an element of good- humored theatrics to accompany their live sonic assault. This is achieved in no small part due to the guitar prowess and songwriting of Richie Tarver, joined by the ambient soundscapes of Joey Powell on rhythm guitar and Josh Elam on spacey synth, and rounded out by the thunderous low end of Jason Smith on bass and Bobby Onspaugh on drums.
Rainbows Are Free continue to bring their unique brand of psychedelic heaviness on tour as they support the release of their upcoming studio album, Silver and Gold, due out Spring of 2025 on Ripple Music.
RAINBOWS ARE FREE is Brandon Kistler – Vocals Richie Tarver – Lead Guitar Jason Smith – Bass Joey Powell – Rhythm Guitar Bobby Onspaugh – Drums Josh Elam – Synths
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 Whathaveyou on July 16th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Heads up on this, because the hype on new Chat Pile is going to be at least as brutal and punishing as any of the sounds the Oklahoma City band actually conjure on the record. Capital-‘i’ Important, we’re talking. And as intolerable as conversation around that kind of thing is, Chat Pile‘s caustic post-hardcore whathaveyou remains, well, caustic. New video “I Am Dog Now” puts a bow on it, complete with VHS grain and American religious iconography.
Chat Pile‘s 2022 album, God’s Country (review here), was a well-earned kick in the nuts of the underground heavy zeitgeist. Asking the same of Cool World, the inevitable follow-up to what was broadly hailed as a landmark, seems unfair, but well, the world sucks and I don’t think it’s Chat Pile‘s first encounter with the phenomenon. They’ll be on tour. Preorders are up. The machine lurches forward. Content for the mill.
Fuck everything. Here’s text:
Chat Pile Announce New Album, Cool World, Incoming October 11 on The Flenser, watch the music video for first single “I Am Dog Now”
See Chat Pile on tour this November with support from Agriculture, Mamaleek in select markets
Oklahoma City noise rock quartet Chat Pile have returned with their follow up to 2022’s breakout album God’s Country with Cool World, the new 10-song LP set for release on October 11th via The Flenser [pre-order].
Besides being the name of a largely forgotten (and panned) 90s film, Cool World makes for an apt title of Chat Pile’s sophomore full-length record. In the context of a Chat Pile record, the words are steeped in a grim double entendre that not only evokes imagery of a dying planet but a progression from the band’s previous work, moving the scope of its depiction of modern malaise from just “God’s Country” to the entirety of humankind. “’Cool World’ covers similar themes to our last album, except now exploded from a micro to macro scale, with thoughts specifically about disasters abroad, at home, and how they affect one another,” says vocalist Raygun Busch. “If I had to describe the album in one sentence,” Busch continues, “It’s hard not to borrow from Voltaire, so I won’t resist – ‘Cool World’ is about the price at which we eat sugar in America.”
Today, album opener “I Am Dog Now” arrives with a music video directed by Will Mecca. Stin (bass, Chat Pile) says, “Will’s vision captures the essence of ‘I Am Dog Now’ by channeling his specific style of low-fi, exploitation cinema aesthetic into a dusty, religious bad-trip exclusive to the southern plains of America. Eagle eyed viewers may actually notice shots of the literal chat piles from which we take our name.”
Stream / playlist / share Cool World first single + album opener “I Am Dog Now”: https://orcd.co/jj690dz
Like the towering mounds of toxic waste, the music of Chat Pile is a suffocating, grotesque embodiment of the existential anguish that has defined the 21st Century. It figures that a band with this abrasive, unrelenting, and outlandish of a sound has stuck as strong of a chord as it has. Dread has replaced the American dream, and Chat Pile’s music is a poignant reminder of that shift – a portrait of an American rock band molded by a society defined by its cold and cruel power systems.
Though very much on-brand with Chat Pile’s signature flavor of cacophonous, sludgy noise rock, the band’s shift to a global thematic focus on Cool World not only compliments the broader experimentations it employs with their songwriting but also how they dissect the album’s core theme of violence.
Melded into the band’s twisted foundational sound are traces of other eclectic genre stylings, with examples of gazy, goth-tinged dirges to abrasive yet anthemic alt/indie-esque hooks and off-kilter metal grooves only scratching the surface of what can be heard in the album’s ten tracks. “While we wanted our follow-up to ‘God’s Country’ to still capture the immediate, uncompromising essence of Chat Pile, we also knew that with ‘Cool World,’ we’d want to stretch the definition of our ‘sound’ to reflect our tastes beyond just noise rock territory,” reflects bassist Stin. “Now that we had some form of creative comfort zones in place after hitting that milestone of putting out a full-length record, album #2 felt like the perfect opportunity to challenge those limits.” Besides stylistically stretching the boundaries of the Chat Pile sound, Cool World is also the band’s first record to have someone else handle mixing duties, with Ben Greenberg of Uniform (Algiers, Drab Majesty, Metz) capturing and further amplifying the quartet’s unmistakably outsider and folk-art edge.
The proverbial thread tying all of the experimentation on Cool World together is the depth to which Chat Pile dissects the album’s theme of violence, and the record itself is apocalyptically bleak. Sure, Chat Pile’s debut album was plenty disturbing with its B-movie-inspired interpretation of a “real American horror story”; what Chat Pile depicts on Cool World is unsettling not just from its visceral noise rock onslaught, but from depicting how all sorts of atrocities are pretty much standard parts of modern existence.
Cool World will be released via The Flenser on October 11, 2024. See Chat Pile on the road this November with label mates Agriculture and Mamaleek in select markets – tickets will be available at chatpile.net/shows and general on-sale is Friday, July 19th at 10am local time. More news soon.
Chat Pile, on tour: November 1 Oklahoma City, OK – 89th Street % November 2 Columbia, MO – The Blue Note % November 3 Omaha, NE – The Waiting Room % November 5 Chicago, IL – Thalia Hall % November 6 Minneapolis, MN – Fine Line % November 8 Lakewood, OH – Mahall’s % November 9 Detroit, MI – The Majestic Theatre % November 11 Toronto, ON – The Concert Hall % November 12 Montreal, QC – Théâtre Fairmount % November 14 Burlington, VT – Showcase Lounge @ Higher Ground ^ November 15 Philadelphia, PA – First Unitarian Church ^ November 16 New York, NY – (Le) Poisson Rouge ^ November 17 Boston, MA – The Sinclair ^ November 19 Baltimore, MD – Metro Gallery * November 20 Richmond, VA – The Broadberry * November 21 Greensboro, NC – Hangar 1819 * November 22 Nashville, TN – The End * % with Agriculture, Porcelain ^ with Mamaleek, Traindodge * with Mamaleek, thirdface
Cool World, track listing: 1. I Am Dog Now 2. Shame 3. Frownland 4. Funny Man 5. Camcorder 6. Tape 7. The New World 8. Masc 9. Milk of Human Kindness 10. No Way Out
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 29th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
If you’re reading this post — first, thanks — and second, it’s probably because at some point last year, you caught onto Chat Pile‘s God’s Country (review here) and its everything-is-fucked-no-one-knows-what-to-do-except-people-who-don’t-care-oh-look-more-cancer-and-mass-shootings-what-could-be-more-American-than-that sensibility, post-apathy chest-tunneling and hardcore-born willingness to ask “what the fuck?” in however many words. Fair enough. That record — which already has a follow-up in the band’s 2023 split with Nerver (review here) — played out like the shape of you-wish artpunk to come, and its disaffection was widely hailed along with aural ideologies both innovative and primitive. Shit was raw, in other words, and well received.
Chat Pile went to Europe earlier this year to treat Roadburn to an exclusive show, and I have to think they’ll be back on the continent in 2024, though I’ll readily admit I’ve got no insight into their plans. With the momentum of hype around God’s Country, I would imagine they’ve been fielding offers from various sides. You’ll note a couple of these dates on the West Coast are slated to happen supporting heavy prog forerunners Baroness, and as counterintuitive a pairing as that is, it could definitely work, Baroness so refined in their thinky-thinky metal and Chat Pile sounding like they’re trying to beat their own songs with a wrench. Shit, book that tour now.
From social media or wherever:
CHAT PILE – WEST COAST TOUR ANNOUNCEMENT!
Been a long time in the making, but it’s finally here!
Agriculture and Nightosphere will join us for select dates and we also have the honor of opening for Baroness on a couple shows in the midwest.
Tickets go on sale this Friday.
11/2 – Denver, CO – Bluebird Theatre ! 11/3 – Salt Lake City, UT – Urban Lounge ! 11/5 – Seattle, WA – The Crocodile ! 11/6 – Portland, OR – Star Theater ! 11/8 – San Francisco, CA – Great American Music Hall ! 11/9 – Los Angeles, CA – Substance Festival 11/10 – Phoenix, AZ – Rebel Lounge ! 11/12 – Colorado Springs, CO – Vultures 11/14 – Minneapolis, MN – First Avenue ? 11/15 – Chicago, IL – Vic Theater ? 11/17 – Iowa City, IA – Gabe’s Oasis & 11/18 – Columbia, MO – Rose Music Hall &
Notably vicious Tulsa, Oklahoma, sludge metallers Medicine Horse will release their self-titled debut Sept. 8 through Horton Records. The album runs seven tracks/34 minutes and is led off by “Dead Medicine” (video premiering below), a powerfully caustic sub-four-minute riffer that’s biting as it explores thematically the different cultures around Western — read: ‘white’ — and Indigenous healing, vocalist Nico Williams harsh-throat screaming lyrics decrying the chemicalization and commercialization of doctoring, which, on the long list of things to be correctly filed under ‘Shit White People Made Awful’ along with rural culture, the blues and rice, is a fair enough place to start. I certainly know every time I go to a doctor’s office that looks like a mall complete with a corporate logo, or receive treatment at an urgi-care center that treats you like you’re at 7-Eleven, or take the friggin’ pile of pills that greets me every morning in front of the coffee pot, it feels disconnected from any sense of humanity or caring in a healing process.
But Medicine Horse‘s Medicine Horse isn’t just about the wreck that capitalism has quite purposefully made of the US health system — though it very easily could be; “Nothing green left in these hills/All they’ve got for us is these pills” — and the five-piece of Nico, guitarists Kyle Williams and Travis Rowe, bassist Chris West and drummer Garrett Heck unfurl a barrage of sludged riffing throughout the varied half-hour plus, with Nico swapping to a melodic vocal approach for most of the slower-rolling “Turning Tide,” which nods doomly through its early verses before subtly upping the tempo just before 2:20 into its 3:51, turning harsher, then re-slowing with double-tracked screams held over as it reaches its culmination in delivering the title-line, “We are the turning tide.”
Pay attention through the subsequent “Swamp Interlude” and you’ll hear the story of “Letiche” to come, that centerpiece track a high point in terms of composition and atmosphere, slowing down further across its early going with a melodic verse over strains of guitar that cycle through farther back in the mix than they might otherwise be, drums and vocals up front, bass deep and coming forward with the riff as they shift to oldschool sludge insistence with vocal scathe laced over and a dual-vocal (someone backing Nico, that is) clean-sung seeming crescendo before the toms grow intense, the low end digs in and the build hits its lumbering and ferocious payoff.
Seven minutes brutally spent, and they won’t be the last. Even in the context of Medicine Horse as a whole, “Letiche” is punishing, taking the ripper nature of “Dead Medicine” and the ambience and melody of “Turning Tide” and the introductory “Swamp Interlude” to a point of full realization. “Badlands,” which opens side B, goes back to ground. In the vein of “Dead Medicine,” but faster, it is led by the riff and screams, given heft and movement by the bass and drums, and turns thrashy in its midsection before stomping out a cavernous and doomed ending, giving over to the penultimate “She,” which like closer “Kuwa Detlukv (The Orchard)” works more in line with “Letiche” in terms of methodology if not execution.
By that I mean that like the album from whence it comes, it brings the moody/melodic aspects of the band’s persona in accord with the furious, and in the case of “She” particularly, via a lumbering and slow-shoving middle leading to a second cycle through the verse, it is tense and ready for the next onslaught. Nico is joined by backing vocals again, and the bass caps “She” before “Kuwa Detlukv (The Orchard)” stretches further into unfolding nod. I won’t embarrass myself by trying to guess the language the lyrics are in (though I’d be interested to find out), but the phrasing works fluidly with the post-midsection melody, the softly drawling guitar, and the tension in the cymbals that lets you know the full-volume roll, bass punch and all, will return.
How does it all end? Vocal harmonies hint toward progression to come in the record’s final moments, but that itself is an aftermath of one last sludge-metal assault, and I think the duality between the two represents well the course that Medicine Horse have marked out for themselves, at least in getting to the point of releasing their first album. How they’ll actually grow is beyond me, and in a universe of infinite possibility trying to predict such things is, well, dumb, but aside from the engagement with Indigenous voices being something the American heavy underground very, very much needs, the manner in which Medicine Horse offer their take, whether its the gnash of “Dead Medicine,” the storytelling in “Swamp Interlude” and “Letiche” or the drawl-and-pound of “She” and “Kuwa Detlukv (The Orchard), speaks to further growth to come. May they continue to manifest the notions set forth here in sound and theme.
You’ll find the video for “Dead Medicine” below, followed by some comment from Nico Williams about the track, the preorder link, more info on the album and band, and all that regular ol’ PR wire stuff.
Please enjoy:
Medicine Horse, “Dead Medicine” official video
Nico Williams on “Dead Medicine”:
“‘Dead Medicine’ explores the contrast between traditional Indigenous medicinal knowledge and Western medicine. In our ancestral wellness practices, medicine is about connection to the natural world, a reciprocal relationship that is alive and flows from generation to generation. In exchange for our stewardship, our environment nourishes us in a way that keeps us balanced and healthy. Modern medicine is so far removed from that kind of connectivity. Pharmaceuticals might start with elements from the natural world, but they are are manufactured into unrecognizable chemicals with side effects that are often worse than what we’re using them to treat. We call it medicine but it’s motivated by commercial interests, without soul, it’s dead medicine. We’ve only been using these types of chemicals for a few generations, but it’s become a part of us, a poison we inherit. In this song I fantasize about purging all the modern chemicals from my body, all the processed and artificial contamination, bleeding it all out to start fresh, to replace it with living, green medicine.”
Formed in the autumn of the year the world fell apart, 2020, Medicine Horse began as a way to navigate uncertainty and mitigate existential panic within front woman Nico Williams’ household. With the help of drummer Garrett Heck, a sound took shape, and players were assembled to bring it all to life. Williams, a citizen of Cherokee Nation, moves between jazz-tinged vocal melodies and emotionally charged howls, weaving her lyrical storytelling of historical account, folklore, and Indigenous futurism around layers of sludgy-yet-energetic harmony formed in the clash of techniques between rhythm guitarist Kyle Williams (Ponca,Otoe-Missouria, and Ioway Nations) and lead guitarist Travis Rowe. Rowe draws deeply from his country roots, transforming those immovable hooks into devastatingly heavy riffs before they ignite into towering solos.
A rhythm section steeped in the slow waters of their respective homes of Monroe and New Orleans Louisiana, drummer Garrett Heck and bassist Chris West anchor Medicine Horse’s rumble with elements of doom at one moment, and the frenetic energy of thrash the next. Immediate influences of Southern doom and sludge like Crowbar, Acid Bath and Down are easy to discern, while hints of grunge, post-punk, and classic Southern blues rock simmer beneath the surface. Burn weed, cedar, and sage…plug in, turn up, and amplify your frontal lobe.
Medicine Horse is named in honor of the great-great-great-grandfather of guitarist Kyle Kent Williams Sr (Ponka/Otoe-Missouria/Ioway) Shoⁿge moⁿkoⁿ (in Otoe, Ma’Kaⁿ Shuⁿje). The energy of the band’s music channels the power of these ancestral connections, and also drives the lyrical content.
Medicine Horse are: Vocals: Nico Williams Guitar: Kyle Williams Guitar: Travis Rowe Drums: Garrett Heck Bass: Chris West
Here we go day four of the Quarterly Review. I would love to tell you it’s been easy-breezy this week. That is not the case. My kid is sick, my wife is tired of my bullshit, and neither of them is as fed up with me as I am. Nonetheless, we persist. Some day, maybe, we’ll sit down and talk about why. Today let’s keep it light, hmm?
And of course by “light” I mean very, very heavy. There’s some of that in the batch of 10 releases for today, and a lot of rock to go along, so yes, another day in the QR. I hope you find something you dig. I snuck in a surprise or two.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Dorthia Cottrell, Death Folk Country
Crafted for texture, Death Folk Country finds Windhand vocalist Dorthia Cottrell exploring sounds that would be minimal if not for the lushness of the melodies placed over them. Her first solo offering since 2015 runs 11 tracks and feels substantial at a manageable 42 minutes as delivered through Relapse Records. The death comes slow and soft, the folk is brooding and almost resistant in its Americana traditionalism, and the country is vast and atmospheric, and all three are present in a release that’s probably going to be called ethereal because of layering or vocal reverb but in fact is terrestrial like dry dirt. The seven-minute “Family Annihilator” is nigh on choral, and e-bow or some such droner element fills out the reaches of “Hell in My Water,” expanding on the expectation of arrangement depth set up by the chimes and swells that back “Harvester” after the album’s intro. That impulse makes Death Folk Country kin to some of earlier Wovenhand — thinking Blush Music or Consider the Birds; yes, I acknowledge the moniker similarity between Windhand and Wovenhand and stand by the point as regards ambience — and a more immersive listen than it would otherwise be, imagining future breadth to be captured as part of the claims made in the now. Do I need to say that I hope it’s not 2031 before she does a third record?
It’s been a quick — read: not quick — five years since Italian heavy rockers Fvzz Popvli released their second album, Magna Fvzz (review here), through Heavy Psych Sounds. Aptly titled, III is the third installment, and it’s got all the burner soloing, garage looseness and, yes, the fvzz one would hope, digging into a bit of pop-grunge on “The Last Piece of Shame,” setting a jammy expectation in the “Intro” mirrored in “Outro” with percussion, and cool-kid grooving on “Monnoratzo,” laced with hand-percussion and a bassline so thick it got made fun of in school and never lived down the trauma (a tragedy, but it rules just the same). “Post Shit” throws elbows of noise all through your favorite glassware, “20 Cent Blues” slogs out its march true to the name and “Tied” is brash even compared to what’s around it. Only hiccup so far as I can tell is “Kvng Fvzz,” which starts with a Charlie Chan-kind of guitar line and sees the vocals adopt a faux Chinese accent that’s well beyond the bounds of what one might consider ‘ill-advised.’ Cool record otherwise, but that is a significant misstep to make on a third LP.
San Diegan riffslingers Formula 400 come roaring back with their sophomore long-player, Divination, following three (long) years behind 2020’s Heathens (review here), bringing in new drummer Lou Voutiritsas for a first appearance alongside guitarist/vocalists Dan Frick and Ian Holloway and bassist Kip Page. With a clearer, fuller recording, the solos shine through, the gruff vocals are well-positioned in the mix (not buried, not overbearing), and even as they make plays for the anthemic in “Kickstands Up,” “Rise From the Fallen” and closer “In Memoriam,” the lack of pretense is one of the elements most fortunately carried over from the debut. “Rise From the Fallen” is the only cut among the nine to top five minutes, and it fills its time with largesse-minded riffing and a hook born out of ’90s burl that’s a good distance from the shenanigans of opener “Whiskey Bent” or the righteous shove of the title-track. They’re among the best of the Ripple Music bands not yet actually signed to the label, with an underscored C.O.C. influence in “Divination” and the calmer “Bottomfeeder,” while “In Memoriam” filters ’80s metal epics through ’70s heavy and ’20s tonal weight and makes the math add up. Pretty dudely, but so it goes with dudes, and dudes are gonna be pretty excited about it, dude.
Each of the two intended sides of Abanamat‘s self-titled debut saves its longest song for its respective ending, with “Voidgazer” (8:25) capping side A and “Night Walk” (9:07) working a linear build from silence all the way up to round out side B and the album as a whole. Mostly instrumental save for those two longer pieces, the German four-piece recorded live with Richard Behrens at Big Snuff and in addition to diving back into the beginnings of the band in opener “Djinn,” they offer coherent but exploratory, almost-Uncle–Acidic-in-its-languidity fuzz on “Thunderbolt of Flaming Wisdom,” growing near-prog in their urgency with it on the penultimate “Amdest” but never losing the abiding mellow spirit that manifests out of the ether as “Night Walk” rounds out the album with synth and keys and guitar in a jazzy for-a-walk meander as the band make their way into a fuller realization of classic prog elements, enhanced by a return of the vocals after five minutes in. They’re there just about through the end, and fit well, but it demonstrates that Abanamat even on their debut have multiple avenues in which they might work and makes their potential that much greater, since it’s a conscious choice to include singing on a song or not rather than just a matter of no one being able to sing. The way they set it up here would get stale after a couple more records, but one hopes they continue to develop both aspects of their sonic persona, as any need to choose between them is imaginary.
Led by nine-string bassist Frédérick “ChaotH” Filiatrault (ex-Unexpect), Montreal four-piece Vvon Dogma I are a progressive metal whirlwind, melodic in the spirit of post-return Cynic but no less informed by death metal, djent, rock, electronic music and beyond, the 10-song/45-minute self-released debut, The Kvlt of Glitch confidently establishes its methodology in “The Void” at the outset and proceeds through a succession marked by hairpin turns, stretches of heavy groove like the chorus of “Triangles and Crosses” contrasted by furious runs, dance techno on “One Eye,” melody not at all forgotten in the face of all the changes in rhythm, meter, the intermittently massive tones, and so on. Yes, the bass features as it inevitably would, but with the precision drumming of Kevin Alexander, Yoan MP‘s backflipping guitar and the synth and strings (at the end) of Blaise Borboën (also credited with production), a sound takes shape that feels like it could have been years in the making. Mind you I don’t know that it was or wasn’t, but Vvon Dogma I lead the listener through the lumbering mathematics of “Lithium Blue,” a cover of Radiohead‘s “2+2=5” and the grand finale “The Great Maze” with a sense of mastery that’s almost unheard of on what’s a first record even from experienced players. I don’t know where it fits and I like that about it, and in those moments where I’m so overwhelmed that I feel like my brain is on fire, this seems to answer that.
Two sprawling slow-burners populate the self-titled debut from UK three-piece Orme. Delivered through Trepanation Recordings as a two-song 2LP, Orme deep-dives into ambient psych, doom, drone and more besides in “Nazarene” (41:58) and “Onward to Sarnath” (53:47), and obviously each one is an album unto itself. Guitarist/vocalist Tom Clements, bassist Jimmy Long (also didgeridoo) and drummer Luke Thelin — who’s also listed as contributing ‘silence,’ which is probably a joke, but open space actually plays a pretty large role in the impression Orme make — make their way into a distortion-drone-backed roller jam on “Nazarene,” some spoken vocals from Clements along the way that come earlier and more proclamatory in “Onward to Sarnath” to preface the instrumental already-gone out-there-ness as well as throat singing and other vocalizations that mark the rest of the first half-hour-plus, a heavy psych jam taking hold to close out around 46 minutes with a return of distortion and narrative after, like an old-style hidden track. It’s fairly raw, but the gravitational singularity of Orme‘s two forays into the dark are ritualistic without being cartoonishly cult, and feel as much about their experience playing as the listener’s hearing. In that way, it is a thing to be shared.
The UK-based experimentalist psych collaboration between Fred Laird (Earthling Society) and Mike Vest (Bong, et al) yields a third long-player as The Gateless Gate finds the duo branching out in the spirit of their 2021 self-titled and last year’s Pancosmology (review here) with instrumentalist flow and a three-dimensional sound bolstered by the various delays, organ, synth, and so on. Atop an emergent backbeat from Laird, “Twilight Chorus” (16:13) runs a linear trajectory bound toward the interstellar in an organic jam that comes apart before 12 minutes in and gives over to church organ and sampled chants soon to be countermanded by howls of guitar and distortion. Takest thou that. The B-side, “Sound of Desolation” (19:55), sets forth with a synthy wash that gives over to viol drone courtesy of Martin Ash, a gong hit marking the shift into a longform psych jam with a highlight bassline and an extended journey into hypnotics with choral keys (maybe?) arriving in the second half as the guitar begins to space out, fuzz soloing floating over a drone layer, the harder-hit drums having departed save for some residual backward/forward cymbal hits in the slow comedown. The world’s never going to be on their level, but Laird and Vest are warriors of the cosmos, and as their work to-date has shown, they have bigger fish to fry than are found on planet earth.
What a show to preserve. Heavy Petal Music, while frustrating in that it’s new Rainbows Are Free and not a follow-up to 2019’s Head Pains, but as the Norman, Oklahoma, six-piece’s first outing through Ripple Music, the eight-song/43-minute live LP captures their first public performance in the post-pandemic era, and the catharsis is palpable in “Come” and “Electricity on Wax” early on and holds even as they delve into the proggier “Shapeshifter” later on, the force of their delivery consistent as they draw on material from across their three studio LPs unremitting even as their dynamic ranges between a piano-peppered bluesy swing and push-boogie like “Cadillac” and the weighted nod of “Sonic Demon” later on. The performance was at the 2021 Summer Breeze Music Festival in their hometown (not to be confused with the metal fest in Germany) and by the time they get down to the kickdrum surge backing the fuzzy twists of “Crystal Ball” — which doesn’t appear on any of their regular albums — the allegiance to Monster Magnet is unavoidable despite the fact that Rainbows Are Free have their own modus in terms of arrangements and the balance between space, psych, garage and heavy rock in their sound. Given Ripple‘s distribution, Heavy Petal Music will probably be some listeners’ first excursion with Rainbows Are Free. Somehow I have to imagine the band would be cool with that.
It’s the marriage of complexity and heft, of melody and nod, that make Slowenya‘s “Angel Raised Wolves” so effective. Moving at a comfortable tempo on the drums of Timo Niskala, the song marks out a presence with tonal depth as well as a sense of space in the vocals of guitarist/synthesist Jan Trygg. They break near the midpoint of the 6:39 piece and reemerge with a harder run through the chorus, bassist Tapani Levanto stepping in with backing vocals before a roar at 4:55 precedes the turn back to the original hook, reinforcing the notion that there’s been a plan at work the whole time. An early glimpse at the Finnish psych-doom trio’s next long-player, “Angel Raised Wolves” comes paired with the shorter “Horizontal Loops,” which drops its chugging riff at the start as though well aware of the resultant thud. A tense verse opens to a chorus pretty and reverbed enough to remind of Fear Factory‘s earlier work before diving into shouts and somehow-heavier density. Growls, or some other kind of noise — I’m honestly not sure — surfaces and departs as the nod builds to an an aggressive head, but again, they turn back to where they came from, ending with the initial riff the crater from which you can still see right over there. The message is plain: keep an ear out for that record. So yes, do that.
Let’s start with what’s obvious and say that Elkhorn‘s four-song On the Whole Universe in All Directions, which is executed entirely on vibraphone, acoustic 12-string guitar, and drums and other percussion, is not going to be for everybody. The New York duo of Drew Gardner (said vibraphone and drums) and Jesse Sheppard (said 12-string) bring a particularly jazzy flavor to “North,” “South,” “East” and “West,” but there are shades of exploratory Americana in “South” that follow the bouncing notes of the opener, and “East” dares to hint at sitar with cymbal wash behind and rhythmic contrast in the vibraphone, a meditative feel resulting that “West” continues over its 12 minutes, somewhat ironically more of a raga than “East” despite being where the sun sets. Cymbal taps and rhythmic strums and that strike of the vibraphone — Elkhorn seem to give each note a chance to stand before following it with the next, but the 39-minute offering is never actually still or unipolar, instead proving evocative as it trades between shorter and longer songs to a duly gentle finish. Gardner formerly handled guitar, and I don’t know if this is a one-off, but as an experiment, it succeeds in bridging stylistic divides in a way that almost feels like showing off. Admirably so.
