Posted in Whathaveyou on June 16th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Four and a half minutes is plenty of time for Belgium’s Psychonaut to give listeners a sense of the emotive crux behind their new record, World Maker, to showcase an atmosphere derived in part from the likes of Katatonia‘s melancholy and Russian Circles‘ tonal richness. There’s sprawl and reach, and then they turn and it’s absolute scream-topped atmosludge pummel for a payoff that hits on progressive metal with pointed intensity. It’s kind of a bait-and-switch, but I’m not mad about it. You might recall the trio’s 2022 full-length, Violate Consensus Reality (review here) or their 2021 split with SÂVER, Emerald (review here) (the latter of which was my first exposure). Clearly there’s willful growth happening in their sound. A band pushing themselves, in other wor(l)ds.
World Maker is out Oct. 24, which should give you almost enough time to read the press release below. I love long press releases. 10 years from now I’ll be looking for some snippet of information and here it will be, barring disaster:
Belgian Psychedelic Post-Metallers Psychonaut Announce New Album “World Maker” + Share “Endless Currents” Video
To Be Released on October 24 via Pelagic Records
A record born of insurmountable joy and simultaneous profound loss; World Maker marks a time of great change for Psychonaut, both personally and musically, as the band burn away the philosophical narrative complexities of previous offerings with a searing, panoramic clarity that implores us to savor the beauty of the now as a means of leaving a legacy for the future.
The traditional, three-piece line up of Belgian, psychedelic post-metal collective Psychonaut has long belied the compositional prowess, captivating narrative depth and crushing live presence of a band now operating at the forefront of forward-thinking, contemporary heavy music.
Having sent a shockwave through the post-metal and prog scenes with their three times repressed Pelagic Records debut Unfold The God Man in 2020 before following it up with the transformative metaphysical complexities of 2022’s Violate Consensus Reality, Psychonaut have played prestigious Belgian open-air festivals like Alcatraz, Rock Herk and Boomtown Festival as well as boutique events such as Soulcrusher, Roadburn Redux and A Colossal Weekend whilst sharing stages across Europe with the likes of Amenra, Brutus and Pelagic labelmates The Ocean and PG.Lost.
The seed of World Maker took shape just as the campaign for Violate Consensus Reality came to a close, with the news that guitarist/vocalist Stefan De Graef was to become a father. This tilting of life’s axis led De Graef, like most fathers-to-be, to re-assess what was really important. As such, the music he was inspired to write felt free of the band’s previous philosophical and spiritual foundations and instead took the form of life lessons for his unborn son, a legacy of love in case something were ever to happen.
This hopeful euphoria shines keenly throughout World Maker as an uncharacteristically optimistic warmth; from the reverberating Rhodes organ on the titular opening track and the meandering, free-jazz inspired guitar solo that introduces “Everything Else is Just The Weather” to elements of world music, electronica and the otherworldly voice of Dutch multi-instrumentalist and old friend Anthe Huybrechts (Anthe/Helion Creek) most notably on tracks like “Origins” which also features tabla, a pair of indian hand drums, as its propulsive heartbeat.
Whilst Psychonaut’s giant riffs, punishing polyrhythms and guttural vocal rage are more resplendent than ever, there is a wider dynamic spectrum to World Maker that sees the band proudly exploring their more delicate, intimate extremes as well as their most aggressive and abrasive. Not long after the birth of De Graef’s son came the devastating news that both his own father and Psychonaut bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels’ father had been diagnosed with advanced cancers. Living day-to-day and torn between joy and grief, the band found themselves shedding the grand scope and world-shattering agenda of Violate Consensus Reality to focus on the here and now.
Lead single “Endless Currents,” the first full track on the album, explodes in a barrage of staccato guitar tapping but mellows to let the powerful, newly pared back lyrics ring out as a call to embrace the flow and follow joy. The song’s final few words “Lead the way. / Soar. / Everlong.” double as both a greeting and a goodbye as the trio build their formidable post-metal might to a thunderous breaking point. Similarly, the pulsing, propellant “Stargazer,” named so for De Graef’s son being born in stargazer position, pairs delicate guitar motifs and folk-infected optimism with huge and sprawling breakdowns as some of the band’s most genre-pushing work to date; asking difficult but important questions of what happens next.
It is “And You Came With Searing Light” though that most immediately exemplifies Psychonaut’s re-directed ambition on World Maker, as euphoria collides with blinding fury. The first track written for the album, “…Searing Light” is easily the most complex and initially wouldn’t sound out of place on Violate Consensus Reality. Originally meant to be the new album’s opening track; the decision to defer its impact, not to mention its compositional and dynamic gravity, speaks of a fundamental change to the band’s very core. The words “Discover the world with wide eyes” recurring throughout speak as much to those having lost a part of their world as they do to those seeing it for the first time.
Amidst such turbulent times, the band found strength and support within their Post-Metal community. The album was recorded and produced by the band alongside their longtime collaborator and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Hippotraktor) with help and advice from Psychonaut’s live engineer Victor, who will no doubt make this album sound just as awesome on stage. Even the artwork for World Maker was a family affair, being designed by close friend Sam Coussens of Belgian cosmic sludge metallers Pothamus.
In the face of life’s soaring highs and desolate lows, World Maker is direct and brave without sacrificing any of Psychonaut’s raw power, creative innovation or inimitable musical depth. Where their previous full-length offerings have charted grand introspective courses through time and space, World
World Maker is breathtaking in its uncompromising clarity: a father singing to his newborn son as a son bids his own father farewell.
WORLD MAKER TRACK LISTING: SIDE A: “World Maker” “Endless Currents” “You Are The Sky” “Everything Else Is Just The Weather” “And You Came With Searing Light”
SIDE B: “Origins” “All In Time” “Stargazer” “All Was Quiet” “Endless Erosion”
PSYCHONAUT ARE: Stefan de Graef — Guitars/Vocals Thomas Michiels — Bass/Vocals Harm Peters — Drums
Day three. Yesterday had its challenges as regards timing, but ultimately I wound up where I wanted to be, which is finished with the writing. Fingers crossed I’m so lucky today. Last time around I hit into a groove pretty early and the days kind of flew, so I’m due a Quarterly Review where it’s a little more pulling teeth to make sentences happen. I’m doing my best either way. That’s it. That’s the update. Let’s go Wednesday.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Godzillionaire, Diminishing Returns
Tell you what. Instead of pretending I knew Godzillionaire at all before this record came along or that I had any prior familiarity with frontman Mark Hennessy‘s ’90s-era outfit Paw — unlike everything else I’ve seen written about the band — I’ll admit to going into Diminishing Returns relatively blind. And somehow it’s still nostalgic? With its heart on its sleeve and one foot in we’re-all-definitely-over-all-that-shit-from-our-20s-by-now-right-guys poetic moodiness, the Lawrence, Kansas, four-piece veer between the atmospherics of “Spin Up Spin Down” and more grounded grooves like that of “Boogie Johnson” or “3rd Street Shuffle.” “Unsustainable” dares post-rock textures and an electronic beat, “Astrogarden” has a chug imported from 1994 and the seven-minutes-each capstone pair “Common Board, Magic Nail,” which does a bit of living in its own head, and “Shadow of a Mountain,” which has a build but isn’t a blowout, reward patient listens. I guess if you were there in the ’90s, it’s god-tier heavy underground hype. From where I sit, it’s pretty solid anyhow.
In Flight is the second full-length from Portland, Oregon’s Time Rift, and it brings the revamped trio lineup of vocalist Domino Monet, founding guitarist Justin Kaye and drummer Terrica Catwood to a place between classic heavy rock and classic metal, colliding ’70s groove and declarative ’80s NWOBHM riffing — advance single “The Hunter” strikes with a particularly Mob Rulesian tone, but it’s relatable to a swath of non-sucky metal of the age — such that “Follow Tomorrow” finds a niche that sounds familiar in its obscurity. They’re not ultimately rewriting any playbooks stylistically, but the balance of the production highlights the organic foundation without coming across like a put-on, and the performances thrive in that. Sometimes you want some rock and roll. Time Rift brought plenty for everyone.
Canadian instrumentalist trio Heavy Trip released their sophomore LP, Liquid Planet, in Nov. 2024, following on from 2020’s Burning World-issued self-titled debut (review here). A 13-minute title-track serves as opener and longest inclusion (immediate points), setting a high standrad for scorch that the pulls and shred of “Silversun,” the rush and roll of “Astrononaut” (sic) and capper “Mudd Red Moon” with its maybe-just-wah-all-the-time push and noisy comedown ending, righteously answer. It’s easy enough on its face to cite Earthless as an influence — instrumental band with ace guitarist throwing down a gauntlet for 40 minutes; they’re also touring Europe together — but Heavy Trip follow a trajectory of their own within the four songs and are less likely to dwell in a part, as the movement within “Astrononaut” shows plainly. I won’t be surprised when their next one comes with label backing.
An impressive debut from UK four-piece Slung, whose provenance I don’t know but who sound like they’ve been at it for a while and have come into their first album, In Ways, with clarity of what they want in terms of sound and songwriting. “Laughter” opens raucous, and “Class A Cherry” follows with a sleeker slower roll, while “Come Apart” pushes even further into loud/quiet trades for a soaring chorus and “Collider” pays off its early low-end tension with a melodic hook that feels so much bigger than what one might find in a three-minute song. It goes like that: one cut after another, for 11 songs and 37 minutes, with Slung skillfully guiding the listener from the front of the record to the back. The going can be intense, like “Matador” or the crashing “Thinking About It,” more contemplative like “Limassol” and “Heavy Duty,” and there’s even room for a title-track interlude before the somewhat melancholic “Nothing Left” and “Falling Down” close, though that might only be because Slung use their time so well.
Madrid-based progressive heavy rockers Greengoat return on a quick turnaround from 2024’s A.I. (review here) to Aloft, which over 33 minutes plays through seven songs each of which has been given a proper name: the album intro is “Zohar,” it moves into the grey-toned tension of “Betty,” “Jim” is moody, “Barney” takes it for a walk, and so on. The big-riffed centerpiece “Travis” is a highlight slog, and “Ariel,” which follows, is thoughtful in its melody and deceptively nuanced in the underlying rhythm. That’s kind of how Greengoat do. They’ve taken their influences — and in the case of closer “Charles,” that includes black metal — and internalized them toward their own methodologies, and as such, Aloft feels all the more individually constructed. Hail Iberia as Western Europe’s most undervalued heavy hotspot.
If it seems a little on the nose for Author & Punisher, modern industrial music’s most doom-tinged purveyor, to cover Godflesh, who helped set the style in motion in the first place, yeah, it definitely is. That accounts for the reverence with which Tristan Shone treats the track that originally appeared on 1994’s Selfless LP, and maybe is part of why the song’s apparently been sitting for 11 years since it was recorded in 2014. Accordingly, if some of the sounds remind of 2015’s Melk en Honig (discussed here), the era might account for that. In Shone‘s interpretation, though, the defeated vocal of Justin K. Broadrick becomes a more aggressive rasp and the guitar is transposed to synth. One advantage to living in the age of content-creation is stuff like this gets released at all, let alone posted so you can stream or download as you will. Get it now so when it shows up on the off-album-tracks compilation later you can roll your eyes and be extra cool.
Children of the Sün, Leaving Ground, Greet the End
It’s gotta be a trap, right? The third full-length from Arvika, Sweden, heavy-hippie folk-informed psychedelic rockers Children of the Sün can’t really be this sweet, right? The soaring “Lilium?” The mellow, lap-steel-included motion in “Come With Us?” The fact that they stonerfy “Whole Lotta Love?” Yeah, no way. I know how this goes. You show up and the band are like, “Hey everything’s cool, check out this better universe we just made” and then the next thing you know the floor drops out and you’re doing manual labor on some Swedish farm to align yourself with some purported oneness. I hear you, “Starlighter.” You’re gorgeous and one of many vivid temptations on Leaving Ground, Greet the End, but you’ll not take my soul on your outbound journey through the melodic cosmos. I’m just gonna stay here and be miserable and there’s nothing you or that shiver-down-the-spine backing vocal in “Lovely Eyes” can do about it. So there.
While the core math at work in Pothamus‘ craft in terms of bringing together crushing, claustrophobic tonality, aggressive purposes and expansive atmospherics isn’t necessarily new for a post-metallic playbook, but the melodies that the Belgian trio keep in their pocket for an occasion like “De-Varium” or the drone-folk “Ykavus” before they find another layer of breadth in the 15-minute closing title-track are no less engrossing across the subdued stretches within the six songs of Abur than the band are consuming at their heaviest, and the percussion in the early build of the finale says it better than I could, calling back to the ritualism of opener “Zhikarta” and the way it seems to unfold another layer of payoff with each measure as it crosses the halfway point, only to end up squeezing itself through a tiny tube of low end and finding freedom on the other side in a flood of drone, the entire album playing out its 46 minutes not like parts of a single song, but vivid in the intention of creating a wholeness that is very much manifest in its catharsis.
Gentle Beast, Vampire Witch Reptilian Super Soldier (…From Outer Space)
Gentle Beast are making stoner rock for stoner rockers, if the cumbersome title Vampire Witch Reptilian Super Soldier (…From Outer Space) of the Swiss five-piece’s sophomore LP didn’t already let you know, and from the desert-careening of “Planet Drifter” through the Om-style meditation of “Riding Waves of Karma” (bonus points for digeridoo) ahead of the janga-janga verse and killer chorus of “Revenge of the Buffalo,” they’re not shy about highlighting the point. There’s a spoken part in the early going of “Voodoo Hoodoo Space Machine” that seems to be setting up a narrative, and the organ-laced ending of “Witch of the Mountain” certainly could be seen as a chapter of that unfolding story, but I can’t help but feel like I’m thinking too hard. Go with the riffs, because for sure the riffs are going. Gentle Beast hit pretty hard, counter to the name, and that gives Vampire Witch etc. etc. an outwardly aggressive face, but nobody’s actually getting punched here, they’re just loud having a good time. You can too.
Metal and psychedelia rarely interact with such fluidity, but South Africa’s Acid Magus have found a sweet spot where they can lead a record off with a seven-minute onslaught like “War” and still prog out four minutes later on “Incantations” just because both sound so much in their wheelhouse. In addition, the fullness of their tones and modern production style, the way post-hardcore underlines both the nod later in “Wytch” and the shoving apex of “Emperor” is a unifying factor, while the bright-guitar interludes “Ascendancy” and “Absolution” broaden the palette further and contrast the darker exploration of “Citadel” and the finale “Haven,” which provides a fittingly huge and ceremonious culmination to Scatterling Empire‘s sense of space. It’s almost too perfect in terms of the mix and the balance of the arrangements, but when it hits into a more aggressive moment, they sound organic in holding it together. Acid Magus have actively worked to develop their approach. It’s hard to see the quality of these songs as anything other than reward for that effort.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 14th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
You can check it out — I’d encourage it, in fact — but the terrible truth here is this one is here just for me. Pothamus come from Belgium, and though their name has appeared on this site exactly once before — in a lineup confirmation for the 2021 edition of Down the Hill Festival in the band’s home country — I’d never actually listened to them before the snap decision to put on the new single “Savartuum Avur.” Needless to say, I don’t regret it or this post probably wouldn’t be here, but this week I feel like has mostly been familiar faces in terms of what’s covered — I guess that’s not really true except for Monday, but it feels that way anyhow — and it’s refreshing to have something I’ve never heard before come along and stomp my brain back into its proper gooey state.
Abur is the band’s second album and it’s out Feb. 14 on Pelagic, who issue disgustingly-heavy forward-thinking shit all the time like it’s no big deal. I should go back to the 2021 Down the Hill lineup and see what else I missed. Ha. I’m always a couple floors up from the ground on this stuff. Late to the party and such. Was it the phrase “COSMIC SLUDGE JUGGERNAUTS” in all caps that caught my eye? Could be. But I thought the track sounded cool — it reminded me of hearing Minsk for the first time 20 years ago — and maybe you need eight solid minutes of expanse brought down on your head too.
If so, to the PR wire:
COSMIC SLUDGE JUGGERNAUTS POTHAMUS HERALD SOPHOMORE ALBUM, ‘ABUR’
BAND SHARE GRIPPING PERFORMANCE VIDEO FOR RITUALISTIC LEAD SINGLE ‘SAVARTUUM AVUR’
Belgian psychedelic sludge-metal trio Pothamus have announced their second full-length album, ‘Abur’, set for release on February 14th, 2025 via Berlin’s Pelagic Records.
The heavily anticipated spiritual successor to their 2020 debut ‘Raya’, ‘Abur’ finds the band honing an already formidable sound and widening their distinct musical palette in order to create truly original and staggeringly heavy music that steers them ever further away from well-trodden post-metal paths. Based in Mechelen, Belgium, Mattias M. Van Hulle, Michael Lombarts and Sam Coussens formed Pothamus in 2013 and have been enthralling audiences with their breathtaking command of hypnotic riffage, floating drones, tribal percussion, and abrasive bass lines for over a decade.
‘Abur’ sees Pothamus’ signature ritualistic sound elevated by the haunting sounds of the Surpeti, a drone instrument originating from the Indian subcontinent traditionally used for mantra singing, whilst drummer Van Hulle adds his voice in harmony with guitarist Coussens’ to create an astounding richness and depth. Capturing Pothamus at this creative zenith was musical contemporary and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Psychonaut, Hippotraktor) who recorded, mixed and mastered the album.
Lead single and the first piece written for the album, ‘Savartuum Avur’ is an uncompromising invitation to cast away the preconceived beliefs and social constructs that lure us away from a sense of spiritual unity. Building as one like a gathering storm, ‘Savartuum Avur’ is Pothamus embracing chaos as the generative force behind creation; unleashing their unmistakable cosmic sludge metal in an exhilarating statement of intent. The stark, monochrome performance video that accompanies ‘Savartuum Avur’ not only mirrors the in-the-moment, chaotic energy of the track but also serves as a reminder of the transcendental experience that is Pothamus performing live.
A 44-minute pilgrimage through nature, animism and the depths of the human soul, ‘Abur’ is Pothamus’ answer to the big, existential questions that keep us all awake at night. Titanic, all-consuming heaviness is met with ethereal, airy beauty as the band contemplates the interconnectedness of all things, creating a singular sonic universe balanced perfectly between cosmic creation and absolute destruction.
‘Abur’ is released on February 14th, 2025. ‘Savartuum Avur’ is out now.
Pothamus on ‘Savartuum Avur’:
“This track is layered with a brooding atmosphere that evokes a sense of elemental energy, possibly tied to the forces of nature. As the first piece written for the new record, it serves as a transitional bridge between past and present, making it a fitting choice for the album’s first single, capturing both familiar and ever evolving sonic landscapes. With lyrical references to ‘Raya’ it creates a thematic link to the band’s previous work, grounding the song in continuity while marking the start of a new creative chapter.”
Produced & mixed by Chiaran Verheyden Recording assistance by Victor Jacobs Recorded at MotorMusic Studio, Mechelen & GAM Studios, Malmedy Mastering by Chiaran Verheyden at MotorMusic Studio, Mechelen Lyrics & concept: Mattias M. Van Hulle Artwork & design: Iljen Put
Pothamus is: Mattias M. Van Hulle – Drums, Vocals, Surpeti Michael Lombarts – Bass Sam Coussens – Guitar, Vocals
Posted in Reviews on October 10th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Some of this stuff is newer, some of it has been out for a while. You know how it goes with these things. If I had a staff of 30, I’d still always be behind and trying to keep up. It rarely works, but when a given Quarterly Review is done and I’m on the other side of 50, 70, 100 records, whatever it might be, I can fool myself for a few minutes into thinking this site is remotely comprehensive. At least until I next check my email.
Ups and downs to that, I suppose. I wouldn’t swear to it all not being AI, but I wouldn’t swear to reality being ‘real’ by any human definition either, and I’m not sure a machine making you feel something invalidates the artistic statement. Seems to me all the more an achievement. I guess what I’m trying to say in my best Kent Brockman is, “I for one, welcome our new robotic overlords.” I hope the machines take into account that I liked their paintings when they’re crushing skulls like in Terminator 2 or handing out especially cushy seats in the Matrix.
What were we talking about? Oh yeah, albums and such. Back to it:
Quarterly Review #31-40:
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Conan, DIY 10″ Series, Issue 1
In some ways, DIY 10″ Series, Issue 1 is the release Conan have been building toward. A DIY recording for Conan at this point meant recording with bassist Chris Fielding (who’s since left the band as a player but will continue to produce) and releasing through Jon Davis‘ Black Bow Records. That’s a DIY deal a lot of bands would take, and sure enough, the three songs on DIY 10″ Series, Issue 1 — the characteristically crush-galloping “Invinciblade,” “Time Becomes Master” and a cover of “Hate Song” by Fudge Tunnel — don’t sound like some half-assed thing made in the band’s rehearsal space or the living room when everyone else is out. They sound like Conan. So yes, they destroy. “Time Becomes Master” does so more slowly than “Invinciblade” and not before its intro turns feedback into cinematic artistry over the course of its first two-plus minutes, distortion eating the howl twice before Johnny King‘s drums kick in to answer what were those footprints that knocked over all the trees. Vocals don’t even kick in until four of the five minutes are gone; truly mastering time. And that drone is there the whole time. I’ll take more experimental Conan anytime.
Guitarist Dan Lorenzo (Hades) and drummer Johnny Kelly (Type O Negative) return with 12 new cuts across 43 minutes on Visioning. As with last year’s My Veneration (review here), the album features an assortment of guest singers, from Mark Sunshine (Unida) and Karl Agell (Legions of Doom, Lie Heavy), to Jason McMaster (Dangerous Toys, Watchtower) and Kyle Thomas (Exhorder, Trouble, Alabama Thunderpussy), and more besides. Bassists Dave Neabore (Dog Eat Dog) and Eric Morgan (A Pale Horse Named Death) hold down the low end as Lorenzo demonstrates the principles of applying quality riffing to an assortment of situations. It veers into nü metal more than once, but at least it’s taking a risk, and it’s just as likely to be a classic Sabbathian delve like “Empty Cup,” so you wouldn’t accuse the band of lacking scope, and Sunshine — who’s on the West Coast and plenty busy besides — might be the frontman Patriarchs in Black have been looking for all along.
Welsh melody heavy post-rockers Lurcher will have to find a new label home as Trepanation Recordings, which released Breathe, earlier this year and stood behind the band’s 2021 debut EP, Coma (review here), has ceased operations, but it’s hard to imagine Lurcher having much trouble finding a home for a sound as defined as it seems to be on “Breathe Out” and the more driving “Blister” here, which take the lush melodies one might hear from a band like Elephant Tree from an angle rooted more in post-hardcore, and a little more about shove than nod, but still able to get hazy and dreamy on opener “Never Over” or likewise mammoth and poppy on “Blink of an Eye,” though I’ll note that by “poppy” I mean accessible, melodic and professional. It wants neither for bombast nor impact, and the Mellotron before they turn “Blink of an Eye” back to the verse is just one among the many examples of why Lurcher are ready for a full-length. Or why I’m ready for one from them, at the very least.
A new configuration for some familiar players, as Alreckque‘s debut EP, 6PM, presents an initial four songs from guitarist/vocalist Jim Healey (We’re All Gonna Die, Blood Lightning, Set Fire, etc.), bassist/vocalist Aaron Gray (Hepatagua) and drummer Rob Davol (Cocked ‘n’ Loaded, Set Fire, etc.), each of whom would carry their union card for the Boston heavy underground if the city hadn’t busted the union to build condos. Healey‘s voice will be immediately recognizable to, well, anyone who’s ever heard it — it’s a pretty recognizable voice — and though “Sunsets” touches on some more metallic riffing in the vein of Blood Lightning, Alreckque is distinguished by what Gray brings to it in vocals, not only keeping up with Healey melodically (which is no small feat), but serving as an essential part of some of the EP’s most affecting moments. Yeah, the moniker is kind of a gag, but “Achilles’ Last Taco Stand (End of Man)” sets high stakes and has the reach to hit the mark in its apex. Projects like this come and go as everybody involved is usually doing more than one thing, but Alreckque sounds like the start of something worth pursuing.
Black Capricorn‘s second LP for Majestic Mountain behind 2022’s Cult of Blood (review here), the nine-song/43-minute Sacrifice Darkness… and Fire lets you know it means business immediately because not one, not two, but three songs have the word “night” in the title. To wit, “The Night They Came to Take You Away,” “Another Night Another Bite” two songs later, and “Electric Night” two songs after that. That doesn’t even count “The Moon Rises as the Immortals Gather” or “A New Day Rising,” both of which would presumably take place at least in part at night. Clearly the Sardinian cult doomers have upped their game. Your move, entire genre of heavy metal! Perhaps the highest compliment I could pay the record would be to say it earns its instances of “night,” which it does, but don’t let that keep you from “Blood of Evil” or the opener “Sacrifice,” which pairs drifting vocal incantations with an earthy groove and lays out the atmosphere for what follows. As expected and as one would hope, they dig into the songs like grainy VHS zombies into foam-rubber skulls.
The sophomore full-length from Argentina’s Dios Serpiente, founded by bassist, programmer and vocalist Leandro Buceta, brings a collaboration with Sergio Chotsourian (Los Natas, Ararat, Soldati, etc.), who contributes guitar and keyboard, Duelo de Gigantes might be an appropriate title for such a thing, as surely the swell at the finish of “Ruinas Ancestrales” is of duly mammoth proportion, but there’s more happening than largesse as “La Espera” explores textures that feel born of ambient Reznorism en route to the slamming industrial doom of “Dinastia del Morir,” an aggressive centerpiece before “El Oraculo” shows brighter flashes and “El Ultimo Ritual” turns caustic, low sludge into inhuman megaplod before “Monolitos de Lava” drops the drums and thereby transcends that much more completely into atmospheric avant garde-ness. Those used to hearing Chotsourian‘s voice alongside his guitar will be surprised at Buceta‘s growls, but the harsher vocals suit the range of dark and aggressive moods being conveyed in the electronic/organic blend of the arrangements.
If you, like me, remember a time when a band called Swarm of the Lotus stalked the earth with an especially vicious blend of sludge metal, harsh hardcore bite, and doomly proselytizing, Swiss/Swedish trio Norna wield a lurch no less punishing on “Samsara” at the outset of their self-titled sophomore LP. Huge and encompassing, it and “For Fear of Coming,” which follows, feel methodical in the European post-metallic tradition (see Amenra), but Norna are rawer than most and more direct in their assault, so that “Ghost” comes across as punk rooted in its intensity more than metal, which is also what stops “Shine by its Own Light” from being Conan, despite the similar penchant for crush. The effect of the backing atmospherics in “Shadow Works” shouldn’t be understated, even if what tops is so all-out furious, and “The Sleep” slows down a bit for one last tonal offloading, harsh shouts cutting through every punishing stage. Norna don’t mess around. Call it sludge if you want. The truth is it’s more in style and dimension.
Having a couple seconds on either side of the start and finish of a song emphasizes the live-in-studio feel of Luto Sessions, but as it’s the first offering from Argentine psychedelic doom rockers Dead Fellows, it’s not like there’s a ton to compare it to. “Pile of Flesh” or its side-B-opening counterpart “Imminent” have some Uncle Acid to their swing, but even in the boogie of “The Ritual” and the last twists of “Hell Awaits,” Dead Fellows are chasing no sonic ideal so much as their own. Echoing vocals top riffs made more sinister by the lyrics applied to them, and as “Pile of Flesh” is both opener and the longest song (immediate points), everything after seems to build momentum despite mostly languid tempos, and the movement keeps hold right through the dark swirl of “Satan is Waiting for Us” and into the finale, which at last highlights the heavy blues that’s been underscoring the material all along. You already knew if you were listening to the basslines. I don’t know if it’s actually their debut album, but it’s engaging and quickly finds its niche.
You might call Troy, New York, four-piece experimental for all the noise and keys and drones and weirdo vibes they throw at you on their debut, Does the Heartbeat, but go deeper and it’s even weirder. Because it’s pop. Like 1960s Beatles-type pop. Check out “Real Life.” The organ line of “Does the Heart Beat.” The vocal pattern in “I’ve Been Hypnotized” is more Thin Lizzy, so a couple years later, but a lot of what Rabid Children are playing off of is notions of safe, suburban interpretations of rock, and some of it is about turning that on its head, like the Ramones did, but by putting their own spin on these ideas — and songs that are mostly one to two minutes long suits that frenetic approach — Rabid Children both undercut the notions of pop as something that can’t be ‘deep’ or ‘intelligent’ (that’s called “doing Devo‘s work”) and that “Messin Round” can’t coincide with a sprawler jam like “Other Dreams” or that the over-the-top wistfulness of “Teenage Summertime Dream” and the quirkier “FCOJ” (is that a Trading Places reference?) aren’t working toward similar ends.
Just two songs on this initial offering from German noise-doomers Ord Cannon, but that’s enough for the band — which traces its pedigree back through Bellrope into Black Shape of Nexus, thereby ticking any box you might have for off-kilter heavy-as-hell cred — to leave a crater behind. The Foreshots EP brings “Letting My Insides Out Into the Air” (10:35) and “I Need a Hammer” (9:41), and with them, Ord Cannon mark out what one suspects won’t at all be the limits of their ultimate breadth. A harsh experimentlism seems to put the studio on a similar plane to the instruments, and the mix, whether that’s pushing the vocals further back toward the end of “I Need a Hammer” or making “Letting My Insides Out Into the Air” sound like the end of the world more generally, further bolsters the true-horrors-in-three-dee vibe. I don’t know what the advent of Ord Cannon signals for Bellrope, who put out their debut EP in 2019, but this kind of malevolent worldmaking is welcome in any form.
Posted in Reviews on February 29th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Day four of five puts the end of this Quarterly Review in sight, as will inevitably happen. We passed the halfway point yesterday and by the time today’s done it’s the home stretch. I hope you’ve had a good week. It’s been a lot — and in terms of the general work level of the day, today’s my busiest day; I’ve got Hungarian class later and homework to do for that, and two announcements to write in addition to this, one for today one for tomorrow, and I need to set up the back end of another announcement for Friday if I can. The good news is that my daughter seems to be over the explosive-vomit-time stomach bug that had her out of school on Monday. The better news is I’ve yet to get that.
But if I’m scatterbrained generally and sort of flailing, well, as I was recently told after I did a video interview and followed up with the artist to apologize for my terribleness at it, at least it’s honest. I am who I am, and I think that there are places where people go and things people do that sometimes I have a hard time with. Like leaving the house. And parenting. And interviewing bands, I guess. Needing to plow through 10 reviews today and tomorrow should be a good exercise in focusing energy, even if that isn’t necessarily getting the homework done faster. And yeah, it’s weird to be in your 40s and think about homework. Everything’s weird in your 40s.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
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Monkey3, Welcome to the Machine
What are Monkey3 circa 2024 if not a name you can trust? The Swiss instrumental four-piece are now more than 20 years removed from their 2003 self-titled debut, and Welcome to the Machine — their seventh album and fourth release on Napalm Records (three studio, one live) — brings five new songs across 46 minutes of stately progressive heavy craft, with the lead cut “Ignition” working into an early gallop before cutting to ambience presumably as a manifestation of hitting escape velocity and leaving the planetary atmosphere, and trading from there between longer (10-plus-minute) and shorter (six- and seven-minute) pieces that are able to hit with a surprising impact when they so choose. Second track “Collision” comes to crush in a way that even 2019’s Sphere (review here) didn’t, and to go with its methodical groove, heavy post-rock airiness and layered-in acoustic guitar, “Kali Yuga” (10:01) is tethered by a thud of drums that feels no less the point of the thing than the mood-aura in the largesse that surrounds. Putting “Rackman” (7:13, with hints of voice or keyboard that sounds like it), which ends furiously, and notably cinematic closer “Collapse” (12:51) together on side B is a distinct immersion, and the latter places Monkey3 in a prog-metal context that defies stylistic expectation even as it lives up to the promise of the band’s oeuvre. Seven records and more than two decades on, and Monkey3 are still evolving. This is a special band, and in a Europe currently awash in heavy instrumentalism of varying degrees of psychedelia, it’s hard to think of Monkey3 as anything other than aesthetic pioneers.
With its Sabbath-born chug and bluesy initial groove opening to NWOBHM grandeur at the solo, the opening title-track is quick to reassure that Sweden’s The Quill are themselves on Wheel of Illusion, even if the corresponding classic metal elements there a standout from the more traditional rock of “Elephant Head” with its tambourine, or the doomier roll in “Sweet Mass Confusion,” also pointedly Sabbathian and thus well within the wheelhouse of guitarist Christian Carlsson, vocalist Magnus Ekwall, bassist Roger Nilsson and drummer Jolle Atlagic. While most of Wheel of Illusion is charged in its delivery, the still-upbeat “Rainmaker” feels like a shift in atmosphere after the leadoff and “We Burn,” and atmospherics come more into focus as the drums thud and the strings echo out in layers as “Hawks and Hounds” builds to its ending. While “The Last Thing” works keyboard into its all-go transition into nodding capper “Wild Mustang,” it’s the way the closer seems to encapsulate the album as a whole and the perspective brought to heavy rock’s founding tenets that make The Quill such reliable purveyors, and Wheel of Illusion comes across like special attention was given to the arrangements and the tightness of the songwriting. If you can’t appreciate kickass rock and roll, keep moving. Otherwise, whether it’s your first time hearing The Quill or you go back through all 10 of their albums, they make it a pleasure to get on board.
Equal parts brash and disillusioned, Nebula Drag‘s Dec. 2023 LP, Western Death, is a ripper whether you’re dug into side ‘Western’ or side ‘Death.’ The first half of the psych-leaning-but-more-about-chemistry-than-effects San Diego trio’s third album offers the kind of declarative statement one might hope, with particular scorch in the guitar of Corey Quintana, sway and ride in Stephen Varns‘ drums and Garrett Gallagher‘s Sabbathian penchant for working around the riffs. The choruses of “Sleazy Tapestry,” “Kneecap,” “Side by Side,” “Tell No One” and the closing title-track speak directly to the listener, with the last of them resolved, “Look inside/See the signs/Take what you can,” and “Side by Side” a call to group action, “We don’t care how it gets done/Helpless is the one,” but there’s storytelling here too as “Tell No One” turns the sold-your-soul-to-play-music trope and turns it on its head by (in the narrative, anyhow) keeping the secret. Pairing these ideas with Nebula Drag‘s raw-but-not-sloppy heavy grunge, able to grunge-crunch on “Tell No One” even as the vocals take on more melodic breadth, and willing to let it burn as “Western Death” departs its deceptively angular riffing to cap the 34-minute LP with the noisy finish it has by then well earned.
LLNN & Sugar Horse, The Horror bw Sleep Paralysis Demon
Brought together for a round of tour dates that took place earlier this month, Pelagic Records labelmates LLNN (from Copenhagen) and Sugar Horse (from Bristol, UK) each get one track on a 7″ side for a showcase. Both use it toward obliterating ends. LLNN, who are one of the heaviest bands I’ve ever seen live and I’m incredibly grateful for having seen them live, dig into neo-industrial churn on “The Horror,” with stabbing synth later in the procession that underscores the point and less reliance on tonal onslaught than the foreboding violence of the atmosphere they create. In response, Sugar Horse manage to hold back their screams and lurching full-bore bludgeonry for nearly the first minute of “Sleep Paralysis Demon” and even after digging into it dare a return to cleaner singing, admirable in their restraint and more effectively tense for it when they push into caustic sludge churn and extremity, space in the guitar keeping it firmly in the post-metal sphere even as they aim their intent at rawer flesh. All told, the platter is nine of probably and hopefully-for-your-sake the most brutal minutes you might experience today, and thus can only be said to accomplish what it set out to do as the end product sounds like two studios would’ve needed rebuilding afterward.
Fuzzter aren’t necessarily noisy in terms of playing noise rock on Pandemonium, but from the first cymbal crashes after the Oppenheimer sample at the start of “Extinción,” the Peruvian outfit engage an uptempo heavy psych thrust that, though directed, retains a chaotic aspect through the band’s willingness to be sound if not actually be reckless, to gang shout before the guitars drift off in “Thanatos,” to be unafraid of being eaten by their own swirl in “Caja de Pandora” or to chug with a thrashy intensity at the start of closer “Tercer Ojo,” doom out massive in the song’s middle, and float through jazzy minimalism at the finish. But even in that, there are flashes, bursts that emphasize the unpredictability of the songs, which is an asset throughout what’s listed as the Lima trio’s third EP but clocks in at 36 minutes with the instrumental “Purgatorio,” which starts off like it might be an interlude but grows more furious as its five minutes play out, tucked into its center. If it’s a short release, it is substantial. If it’s an album, it’s substantial despite a not unreasonable runtime. Ultimately, whatever they call it is secondary to the space-metal reach and the momentum fostered across its span, which just might carry you with it whether or not you thought you were ready to go.
The listed representation of dreams in “Dream One” adds to the concrete severity of Cold in Berlin‘s dark, keyboard-laced post-metallic sound, but London-based four-piece temper that impact with the post-punk ambience around the shove of the later “Found Out” on their The Body is the Wound 19-minute four-songer, and build on the goth-ish sway even as “Spotlight” fosters a heavier, more doomed mindset behind vocalist Maya, whose verses in “When Did You See Her Last” are complemented by dramatic lines of keyboard and who can’t help but soar even as the overarching direction is down, down, down into either the subconscious referenced in “Dream One” or some other abyss probably of the listener’s own making. Five years and one actual-plague after their fourth full-length, 2019’s Rituals of Surrender, bordering on 15 since the band got their start, they cast resonance in mood as well as impact (the latter bolstered by Wayne Adams‘ production), and are dynamic in style as well as volume, with each piece on The Body is the Wound working toward its own ends while the EP’s entirety flows with the strength of its performances. They’re in multiple worlds, and it works.
With the expansive songwriting of multi-instrumentalist/sometimes-vocalist Eric McQueen at its core, The Mountain King issue Apostasyn as possibly their 10th full-length in 10 years and harness a majestic, progressive doom metal that doesn’t skimp either on the doom or the metal, whether that takes the form of the Type O Negative-style keys in “The White Noise From God’s Radio” or the tremolo guitar in the apex of closer “Axolotl Messiah.” The title-track is a standout for more than just being 15 minutes long, with its death-doom crux and shifts between minimal and maximal volumes, and the opening “Dødo” just before fosters immersion after its maybe-banging-on-stuff-maybe-it’s-programmed intro, with a hard chug answered in melody by guest singer Julia Gusso, who joins McQueen and the returning Frank Grimbarth (also guitar) on vocals, while Robert Bished adds synth to McQueen‘s own. Through the personnel changes and in each piece’s individual procession, The Mountain King are patient, waiting in the dark for you to join them. They’ll probably just keep basking in all that misery until you get there, no worries. Oh, and I’ll note that the download version of Apostasyn comes with instrumental versions of the four tracks, in case you’d really like to lose yourself in ruminating.
The self-titled debut from Parisian doomers Witchorious is distinguished by its moments of sludgier aggression — the burly barks in “Monster” at the outset, and so on — but the chorus of “Catharsis” that rises from the march of the verse offers a more melodic vision, and the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Antoine Auclair, bassist/vocalist Lucie Gaget and drummer Paul Gaget, continue to play to multiple sides of a modern metal and doom blend, while “The Witch” adds vastness and roll to its creeper-riff foundation. The guitar-piece “Amnesia” serves as an interlude ahead of “Watch Me Die” as Witchorious dig into the second half of the album, and as hard has that song comes to hit — plenty — the character of the band is correspondingly deepened by the breadth of “To the Grave,” which follows before the bonus track “Why” nod-dirges the album’s last hook. There’s clarity in the craft throughout, and Witchorious seem aware of themselves in stylistic terms if not necessarily writing to style, and noteworthy as it is for being their first record, I look forward to hearing how they refine and sharpen the methods laid out in these songs. The already-apparent command with which they direct the course here isn’t to be ignored.
Though their penchant for cult positioning and exploitation-horror imagery might lead expectations elsewhere, North Carolinian trio Skull Servant present a raw, sludge-rocking take on their second LP, Traditional Black Magicks II, with bassist Noah Terrell and guitarist Calvin Bauer reportedly swapping vocal duties per song across the five tracks while drummer Ryland Dreibelbis gives fluidity to the current of distortion threaded into “Absinthe Dreams,” which is instrumental on the album but newly released as a standalone single with vocals. I don’t know if the wrong version got uploaded or what — Bauer ends up credited with vocals that aren’t there — but fair enough. A meaner, punkier stonerism shows itself as “Poison the Unwell” hints at facets of post-hardcore and “Pergamos,” the two shortest pieces placed in front of the strutting “Lucifer’s Reefer” and between that cut and the Goatsnake-via-Sabbath riffing of “Satan’s Broomstick.” So it could be that Skull Servant, who released the six-song outing on Halloween 2023, are still sorting through where they want to be sound-wise, or it could be they don’t give a fuck about genre convention and are gonna do whatever they please going forward. I won’t predict and I’m not sure either answer is wrong.
Notice of arrival is served as Lord Velvet dig into classic vibes and modern heft on their late 2023 debut EP, Astral Lady, to such a degree that I actually just checked their social media to see if they’d been signed yet before I started writing about them. Could happen, and probably will if they want it to, considering the weight of low end and the flowing, it’s-a-vibe-man vibe, plus shred, in “Lament of Io” and the way they make that lumber boogie through (most of) “Snakebite Fever.” Appearing in succession, “Night Terrors” and “From the Deep” channel stoned Iommic revelry amid their dynamic-in-tempo doomed intent, and while “Black Beam of Gemini” rounds out with a shove, Lord Velvet retain the tonal presence on the other end of that quick, quiet break, ready to go when needed for the crescendo. They’re not reinventing stoner rock and probably shouldn’t be trying to on this first EP, but they feel like they’re engaging with some of the newer styles being proffered by Magnetic Eye or sometimes Ripple Music, and if they end up there or elsewhere before they get around to making a full-length, don’t be surprised. If they plan to tour, so much the better for everybody.
Posted in Reviews on February 28th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Welcome to Wednesday of the Quarterly Review. If you’ve been here before — and I do this at least four times a year, so maybe you have and maybe you haven’t — I’m glad you’re back, and if not, I’m glad you’re here at all. These things are always an undertaking, and in a vacuum, I’m pretty sure busting out 10 shorter reviews per day would be a reasonably efficient process. I don’t live in a vacuum. I live vacuuming.
Metaphorically, at least. Looking around the room, it’s pretty obvious ‘vacuum life’ is intermittent.
Today we hit the halfway mark of this standard-operating-procedure QR, and we’ll get to 30 of the 50 releases to be covered by the time Friday is done or die trying, as that’s also the general policy. As always, I hope you find something in this batch of 10 that you dig. Doesn’t have to be any more of a thing than that. Doesn’t need to change your life, just maybe take the moment you’re in and make it a little better.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
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Deadpeach, The Cosmic Haze and the Human Race
A new full-length from Italian cosmic fuzz rockers Deadpeach doesn’t come along every day. Though the four-piece here comprised of guitarist/vocalist Giovanni Giovannini, guitarist Daniele Bartoli, bassist Mrsteveman and drummer Federico Tebaldi trace their beginnings back to 1993, the seven-song/37-minute exploration The Cosmic Haze and the Human Race is just their fourth full-length in that span of 31 years, following behind 2013’s Aurum (review here), though they haven’t been completely absent in that time, with the 2019 unplugged offering Waiting for Federico session (review here), 2022’s Live at Sidro Club, etc. But whether it’s the howling-into-the-void guitar over the methodical toms in the experimental-vibing closer “Loop (Set the Control to Mother Earth),” the mellower intro of “Madras” that leads both to chunky-style chug and the parade of classic-heavy buzz that is “Motor Peach,” what most comes through is the freedom of the band to do what they want in the psychedelic sphere. “Man on the Hill (The Fisherman and the Farmer)” tells its tale with blues rock swing while the subsequent “Cerchio” resolves Beatlesian with bouncy string and horn sounds and is its own realization at the center of the procession before the languid roll of “Monday” (so it goes) picks up its tempo later on. A mostly lo-fi recording still creates an atmosphere, and Deadpeach represent who they are in the weirdo space grunge of “Rust,” toying with influences from a desert that’s surely somewhere on another planet before “Loop (Set the Controls for Mother Earth)” turns repetition into mantra. They might be underrated forever, but Deadpeach only phase into our dimension intermittently and it’s worth appreciating them while they’re here.
In or out of post-metal and the aggressive end of atmospheric sludge, there are few bands currently active who deliver with the visceral force of Oslo’s SÂVER. From Ember and Rust is the second LP from the three-piece of Ole Ulvik Rokseth (guitar), Markus Støle (drums) and Ole Christian Helstad (bass/vocals), and while it signals growth in the synthy meditation worked into “I, Evaporate” after the lead-with-nod opener “Formless,” and the intentionally overwhelming djent chug that pays off the penultimate “The Object,” it is the consuming nature of the 43-minute entirety that is most striking, dynamic in its sprawl and thoughtful in arrangement both within and between its songs — the way the drone starts “Eliminate Distance” and returns to lull the listener momentarily out of consciousness before the bassy start of centerpiece “Ember and Rust” prompts a return ahead of its daring and successful clean vocal foray. That’s a departure, contextually speaking, but noteworthy even as “Primal One” lumbersmashes anything resembling hope to teeny tiny bits, leaving room in its seven minutes to catchy its breath amid grooving proggy chug and bringing back the melodic singing. As much as they revel in the caustic, there’s serenity in the catharsis of “All in Disarray” at the album’s conclusion, and as much as SÂVER are destructive, they’re cognizant of the world they’re building as part of that.
Ruben Romano, The Imaginary Soundtrack to the Imaginary Western Twenty Graves Per Mile
Departing from the heavy psychedelic blues rock proffered by his main outfit The Freeks, multi-instrumentalist and elsewhere-vocalist Ruben Romano — who also drummed for Fu Manchu and Nebula in their initial incarnations — digs into Western aural themes on his cumbersomely-titled solo debut, The Imaginary Soundtrack to the Imaginary Western Twenty Graves Per Mile. To be clear, there is no movie called Twenty Graves Per Mile (yet), and the twice-over-imaginary nature of the concept lets Romano meander a bit in pieces like “Sweet Dream Cowboy” and “Ode to Fallen Oxen,” the latter of which tops its rambling groove with a line of delay twang, while “Chuck Wagon Sorrow” shimmers with outward simplicity with a sneaky depth to its mix (to wit, the space in “Not Any More”). At 10 songs and 27 minutes, the collection isn’t exactly what you’d call ‘feature length,’ but as it hearkens back to the outset with “Load the Wagon (Reprise)” bookending the opener, it is likewise cohesive in style and creative in arrangement, with Romano bringing in various shakers, mouth harp, effects and so on to create his ‘soundtrack’ with a classic Western feel and the inevitable lysergic current. Not as indie or desert chic as Spindrift, who work from a similar idea, but organic and just-came-in-covered-with-dust folkish just the same. If the movie existed, I’d be interested to know which of these tracks would play in the saloon.
With the seven-minute “Earth Blues” left off the vinyl for want of room, German heavy psychedelic instrumentalists Kosmodrom put a color filter on existence with Welcome to Reality as much as on the cover, shimmering in “Dazed in Space” with a King Buffalo‘ed resonance such that the later, crunchier fuzz roll of “Evil Knievel” feels like a departure. While the three-piece are no doubt rooted in jams, Welcome to Reality presents finished works, following a clear plot in the 10-minute “Quintfrequenz” and the gradual build across the first couple minutes of “Landstreicher” — an intent that comes more into focus a short while later on “Novembersong” — before “Earth Blues” brings a big, pointed slowdown. They cap with “OM,” which probably isn’t named after the band but can be said to give hints in their direction if you want to count its use of ride cymbal at the core of its own build, and which in its last 40 seconds still manages to find another level of heft apparently kept in reserve all along. Well played. As their first LP since 2018, Welcome to Reality feels a bit like it’s reintroducing the band, and in listening, seems most of all to encourage the listener to look at the world around them in a different, maybe more hopeful way.
Heads experienced in post-metal will be able to pick out elements like the Russian Circles gallop in The Endless‘ “Riven” or the Isis-style break the Edmonton-based instrumental unit veers into on “Shadows/Wolves” at the center of their self-titled debut, but as “The Hadeon Eon” — the title of which references the planet’s earliest and most volatile geological era — subtly invites the listener to consider, this is the band’s first recorded output. Formed in 2019, derailed and reconstructed post-pandemic, the four-piece of guitarists Teddy Palmer and Eddy Keyes, bassist James Palmer and drummer Jarred Muir are coherent in their stylistic intent, but not so committed to genre tenets as to forego the sweeter pleasure of the standalone guitar at the start of the nine-minute “Reflection,” soon enough subsumed though it is by the spacious lurch that follows. There and throughout, the band follow a course somewhere between post-metal and atmospheric sludge, and the punch of low end in “Future Archives,” the volume trades between loud and quiet stretches bring a sense of the ephemeral as well as the ethereal, adding character without sacrificing impact in the contrast. Their lack of pretense will be an asset as they continue to develop.
Kudos if you can keep up with the shifts wrought from track to track on Our Maddest Edges‘ apparent first long-player, Peculiar Spells, as the Baltimorean solo-project spearheaded by Jeff Conner sets out on a journey of genuine eclecticism, bringing The Beatles and Queens of the Stone Age stylistically together and also featuring one of the several included duets on “Swirl Cone,” some grunge strum in “Hella Fucky” after the remake-your-life spoken/ambient intro “Thoughts Can Change,” a choral burst at the beginning of the spoken-word-over-jazz “Slugs,” which of course seems to be about screwing, as well as the string-laced acoustic-led sentimentality on “Red Giant,” the Casio beat behind the bright guitar plucks of “Frozen Season,” the full-tone riffs around which “I Ain’t Done” and “St. Lascivious” are built, and the sax included with the boogie of “The Totalitarian Tiptoe,” just for a few examples of the places its 12 component tracks go in their readily-consumable 37-minute runtime. Along with Conner are a reported 17 guests appearing throughout, among them Stefanie Zaenker (ex-Caustic Casanova). Info is sparse on the band and Conner‘s work more broadly, but his history in the punkish Eat Your Neighbors accounts for some of the post-hardcore at root here, and his own vocals (as opposed to those of the seven other singers appearing) seem to come from somewhere similar. Relatively quick listen, but not a minor undertaking.
Rolling out with the ambient intro before beginning its semi-Electric Wizardly slog in “Taken by the Black,” Death Unto My Enemy is the 2023 debut from New York City’s Saint Omen. Issued by Forbidden Place Records, its gritty nod holds together even as “Evolution of the Demon” threatens to fall apart, samples filling out the spaces not occupied by vocals, communicating themes dark, violent, and occult in pieces like the catchy-despite-its-harsher-vocal “Destroyer” or the dark swirl of “Sinners Crawl.” Feeling darker as it moves through its 10 songs, it saves a particular grim experimentalism for closer “Descent,” but by the time Death Unto My Enemy gets there, surely your mind and soul have already been poisoned and reaped, respectively, by “The Seventh Gate,” “The Black Mass” and the penultimate title-track, that deeper down is the only place left to go. So that’s where you go; a humming abyss of anti-noise. Manhattan has never been a epicenter of cultish doom, but Saint Omen‘s abiding death worship and bleakness — looking at you, “Sleepness” — shift between dramaturge and dug-in lumber, and the balance is only intriguing for the rawness with which it is delivered, harsher in its purpose than sound, but still plenty harsh in sound.
The psychedelic aspects of Samsara Joyride‘s The Subtle and the Dense feel somewhat compartmentalized, but that’s not necessarily a detriment to the songs, as the solo that tops the drearily moderated tempo of “Too Many Preachers” or the pastoral tones that accompany the bluesier spirit of “Who Tells the Story” emphasize. The Austrian outfit’s second full-length, The Subtle and the Dense seems aware of its varied persona, but whether it’s the swaggering stops of “No One is Free” calling to mind Child or the sax and guest vocals that mark such a turn with “Safe and Sound” at the end, Samsara Joyride are firm in their belief that because something is bluesy or classic doesn’t necessarily mean it needs to be simple. From the layer of acoustic guitar worked into opener “I Won’t Sign Pt. 1” — their first album also had a two-parter, the second one follows directly here as track two — to the gang chorus worked in amid the atmospheric reach of “Sliver,” Samsara Joyride communicate a progressive take on traditionalist aesthetics, managing as few in this end of the heavy music realm ever do to avoid burly masculine caricature in the process. For that alone, easily worth the time to listen.
Like a check-in from some alternate-universe version of Fu Manchu who stuck closer to their beginnings in punk and hardcore, Californian heavy noise rockers That Ship Has Sailed tap volatility and riffy groove alike through the five songs of their Kingdom of Nothing EP, with an admirable lack of bullshit included within that net-zero assessment amid the physical push of riffs like “One-Legged Dog” or “Iron Eagle II” when the drums go to half-time behind the guitar and bass. It’s not all turn-of-the-century disaffection and ‘members of’ taglines though as “Iron Eagle II” sludges through its finish and “I Am, Yeah” becomes an inadvertent anthem for those who’ve never quite been able to keep their shit together, “Sweet Journey” becomes a melodic highlight while fostering the heaviest crash, and “Ready to Go” hits like a prequel to Nebula‘s trip down the stoner rock highway. Catchy in spite of its outward fuckall (or at least fuckmost), Kingdom of Nothing is more relatable than friendly or accessible, which feels about right. It’s cool guys. I never got my shit together either.
The fourth EP in the 10-year history of Brazi’s Spiral Guru, who also released their Void long-player in 2019 and the “The Fantastic Hollow Man” single in 2021, Silenced Voices is distinguished immediately by the vocal command and range of Andrea Ruocco, and I’d suspect that if you’re already familiar with the band, you probably know that. Ruocco‘s voice, in its almost operatic use of breath to reach higher notes, carries some element of melodic metal’s grandeur, but Samuel Pedrosa‘s fuzz riffing and the fluid roll of bassist José Ribeiro and drummer Alexandre H.G. Garcia on the title-track avoid that trap readily, ending up somewhere between blues, psych, and ’70s swing on “Caves and Graves” but kept modern in the atmosphere fostered by Pedrosa‘s lead guitar. Another high-quality South American band ignored by the gringo-dude-dominant underground of Europe and the US? Probably, but I’m guilty too a decade after Spiral Guru‘s start, so all I can say is I’m doing my best out here. This band should probably be on Nuclear Blast by now. Stick around for “The Cabin Man” and you’d best be ready to dance.
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 7th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The 17-minute title-track of Sugar Horse‘s new, single-song EP, Truth or Consequences, New Mexico — yes, that’s a real place — is my first exposure to the Bristol, UK, four-piece troupe who are newly signed to Pelagic Records. I’d imagine that the manner in which I was flattened by the transition from its ambient outset into righteously slow, scream-topped post-sludge nod is just about the ideal. Bipolar in the sense of working from one extreme to another, Sugar Horse at least on this one extended song can crush and rip and tear or recede into a kind of textural contemplation, as they do moving toward the EP’s middle with grand melodic vocals sweeping in circa 7:30 to carry the listener into the next open expanse.
By 8:20, they’ve snapped back to a harsher reality with a long-scream metalcore breakdown like it’s 2002 and I’m about to give myself a concussion, and the thread continues from there. They’re loud, they’re quiet, they’re droning, they’re pummeling. Following the noisy guitar assault circa 12 minutes (love that bassline beneath), the held scream signals the start of a decay-to-drone at around 12:30, and stillSugar Horse aren’t finished. Five minutes of drone? Total washout? Considering the amount of ground covered, they’d be within their rights, but no. That wash makes its presence felt for about three minutes before right at about 15:20 they drop a skyscraper of distortion onto your unsuspecting (or maybe now suspecting) ears and slow-push that increasingly noisy final movement into the fadeout.
Sugar Horse have been at it since at least 2016 and their 2021 debut, The Live Long After, has an eight-minute song called “Dadcore World Cup” that has strings on it, so clearly I have homework to do. A bunch of short releases out as well, and they kind of rule. They’ll be good labelmates for SÂVER from Norway, and speaking of labelmates, they’ve got dates with LLNN coming up. While I dig further, here’s the latest from the PR wire:
Doomgaze quartet Sugar Horse sign with Pelagic Records, announce tour with LLNN
The monolithically heavy UK quartet Sugar Horse have signed with Pelagic Records, and announced a February 2024 tour supporting labelmates LLNN.
Dates as follows:
Feb 03: UK, London Boston Music Room Feb 04: FR, Paris Glazart Feb 05: CH, Lucerne Sedel Feb 06: AT, Vienna Chelsea Feb 07: PL, Krakow Kamienna12 Feb 08: PL, Warsaw Hydrozagadka Feb 09: PL, Wroclaw Lacznik Feb 10: CZ, Prague Kasarna Karlin Feb 11: DE, Berlin Urban Spree
The news follows the release of the Bristolians’ mighty new EP Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico (3rd November, Fat Dracula Records/distributed by Metal Blade Records in US).
An epic achievement, Truth… is, in signature Sugar Horse style, one single long song: a meditation and exploration of everything the note A has to offer.
Sugar Horse comment on the new single: “This section kind of feels like stepping into the eye of a particularly lengthy storm. It’s a short reprieve where we break everything down before climbing back up that staircase again. Lyrically it describes the catharsis of art. You can take in any pain, hurt and bullshit from day to day like, then use it to generate something positive and beautiful. There’s something I find unbelievably beautiful in that kind of genesis. It’s probably the closest I come to any kind of religious thought. You take hell and turn it into heaven.”
Telling the story of Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico, the band state: “It’s frequently been difficult for us, as a band, to limit ourselves to “normal” pop song lengths and structures….as evidenced in pretty much all of our releases to date. From time to time we feel the need to loose the ropes that bind us and let our Long & Tedious flag fly freely. Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico is the result of said untethering.
“We’ve always found the idea of exploring a single note over long stretches of time interesting and this song is that idea taken to an extreme logical conclusion. It’s an exploration of the note A in all its possible variations.”
Sugar Horse have recently toured with post-rock luminaries 65daysofstatic across Europe, as well as dates with Pianos Become The Teeth, Liturgy, Chat Pile and an appearance at ArcTanGent festival.
Sugar Horse are: Ashley Tubb (Vocals/Guitar) Jake Healy (Baritone Guitar, Keyboards) Chris Howarth (Bass) Martin Savage (Drums)
Posted in Reviews on January 6th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
There was some pretty good stuff this week, I gotta say. Feels self-congratulatory to be like, ‘hey good job slating reviews, me!’ but there it is. I don’t regret hearing anything I have thus far into the Winter 2023 Quarterly Review, and sometimes that’s not the case by the time we get to Friday.
Of course, there’s another week to go here as well. We’ll pick it back up on Monday with another 10 records and proceed from there. If you’ve been following along, I hope you’ve found something you dig as well.
Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #41-50:
Astrosaur, Portals
This is what happens when you have virtuoso players writing songs rather than paeans to their own virtuosity. Led by founding guitarist Eirik Kråkenes, with drummer Jonathan Eikum (also Taiga Woods) and bassist Steinar Glas (also Einar Stray Orchestra), Astrosaur are blindingly progressive on their third full-length, Portals (on Pelagic), operating with post-metallic atmospheres as a backdrop for stunning instrumental turns, builds and crashes, willful repetition and the defiant denial of same. There’s more scope in the intro “Opening” than on some entire albums, and what “Black Hole Earth” begins from there is a dizzying array of sometimes cosmic sometimes earthborn riffing, twisting bass and mindfully restless drums. “The Deluge” hitting into that chase after four minutes in, that seemingly chaotic swirling noise suddenly stopping “Reptile Empire” and the false start to the 23-minute epic “Eternal Return” — these details and many besides give the overarching weight of Portals at its heaviest a corresponding depth, and when coupled with the guitar’s ability to coast overhead, they are genuinely three-dimension in their sound. You’d be right to want to hear Portals for “Eternal Return” alone, but there’s so much more to it than that.
Kvasir‘s Sagittarius A* Star is named for the black hole at the center of the galaxy, and the 21-minute single-song EP is the follow-up to their 2021 debut album, 4 (review here), a dug-in proto-metallic exploration composed in movements that flow together as a whole organic work. The Portland-based four-piece of guitarists Christopher Lee (also vocals) and Gabriel Langston, bassist Greg Traw and Jay Erbe work on either side between traditional metal and heavy rock riffing, inhabiting both here as “Sagittarius A* Star” launches into its initial verses over the first four minutes, a solo emerging after 5:30 to set the pattern that will hold for the remaining three-fourths of the song. A slowdown takes hold about a minute later and grooves until at about nine minutes in when the bass comes forward and things get funkier. The vocals return at about 11:30 to complement a galloping riff that’s fleshed out until just after the 14-minute mark, when a jazzier instrumental movement begins and the band makes it known they’re going out and not coming back, the swaying finish with more insistent guitar, first interjecting then satisfyingly joining that sway, capping with a (still plotted) jammier feel. If that’s the Milky Way succumbing to ultragravity and being torn apart molecule by molecule en route to physics-defying oblivion, then fair enough. Worse ways to go, certainly.
Though the leadoff Sins of the Father gets reminds of circa-’90s noise metal like Nailbomb, Marylander four-piece Bloodshot lean more into a hardcore-informed take on heavy rock with their aggressively-purposed debut album. Comprised of vocalist Jared Winegardner, guitarist Tom Stacey, bassist Joe Ruthvin (ex-Earthride) and drummer JB Matson (ex-War Injun, organizer of Maryland Doom Fest, etc.), the band push to one side or the other throughout, as on the more rocking “Zero Humility” and the subsequent metallic barker “Uncivil War,” the mid-period Megadeth-style riffer “Beaten Into Rebellion,” the brooding-into-chugging closing title-track and “Fyre,” which I’m pretty sure just wants to kick my ass. The 10-track entirety of the album, in fact, seems to hold to that same mentality, and there’s a sense of trying to recapture something that’s been lost that feels inherently conservative in its theme — “Faded Natives,” “Visions of Yesterday,” the speedier “Worn and Torn,” and so on — but gruff though it is, Sins of the Father offers a pissed-off-for-reasons take on heavy that’s likewise intense and methodical. That is to say, they know what they’re doing as they punch you in the throat.
A second release through Heavy Psych Sounds and Tons‘ third full-length overall, Hashension wears its love of all things cannabian on its crusty stoner sludge sleeve throughout its six-track/39-minute run, begun with the riffnotic “Dope Dealer Scum” before “A Hash Day’s Night” introduces the throatripper vocals and backing growls and a more heads-down, speedier tempo that hits into a mosh of a slowdown. “Slowly We Pot” — a play on Obituary‘s Slowly We Rot — to go along with the Beatles, Rolling Stones and Pink Floyd (and Gummo) titular references — follows in a spirit as angry as one imagines Bongzilla might be if someone un-freed their weed. Yes, “Hempathy for the Devil” and “Ummagummo” precede the sample-topped slamming march of “Hashended,” and lo, the well-baked extreme sludge they’ve wrought rumbles and thuds its way out, not so much gnashing in the way of “A Hash Day’s Night” or the roll after the midpoint in “Ummagummo” — though the lyrics there seem to be pure weed-worship — but lumbering in such a way as to ensure the point gets across anyhow. I’m not going to tell you you should be stoned listening to it, because I don’t know, maybe you’re driving or something, but I doubt Tons would argue if you brought some edibles to the gig. Enough to share, perhaps.
Mothman & the Thunderbirds vs. World Eaters, Split
In the battle of Philly solo-project Mothman and the Thunderbirds vs. Ontario-based duo World Eaters, the numbers may be on the side of the latter, but each act offers something of its own on their shared 18-minute EP. Presenting two tracks from each band, the outing puts Mothman and the Thunderbirds‘ “Rusty Shackleton” and “Nephilim” up front, the latter particularly reinforcing the Devin Townsend influence on the part of multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Alex Parkinson, while “Flash of Green” and “The Siege” from World Eaters — drummer Winter Stomp and guitarist/bassist/vocalist/synthesist David Gupta — present an atmospheric death metal, more than raw bludgeoning, but definitely that as well. As a sampler platter for both bands, there’s more time to get to know World Eaters since their songs are markedly longer, but the contrast from one to the other and the progression into the mire of “The Siege” gives the split an overlaid personality, almost a narrative, and the melodies in Parkinson‘s two cuts have a lingering presence over the masterful decay that follows in World Eater‘s material. One way or the other, these are both relatively upstart projects and their will toward progression is clear, as pummeling as its form may be. Right on.
Preceded by the two-song single Witches Brew/Psychedelic Roadkill, the six-song/24-minute Dark Matter Pt. 1 is short but feels nonetheless like a debut album from Sonoma County, California (try the cabernet), three-piece Deer Lord, who present adventures like getting stoned with witches on a mountaintop, riding free with an out-on-bail “Hippie Girl” in the backseat of presumably some kind of roadster, going down the proverbial highway and, at last, welcoming you to “Planet Earth” after calling out and casting off any and all “Ego” along the way. It is a modern take on stonerized heavy, starting off with “Witches Brew” as the opener/longest track (immediate points) with a languid flow and psychedelic underpinnings that flesh out even amid the apex soloing of “Planet Earth” or the fervent push of the earlier “Ride Away,” that tempo hitting a wall with the intro of “Ego” (don’t worry, it takes off) so as to support the argument in favor of Dark Matter Pt. 1 as an admittedly brief full-length, the component tracks working off each other to enhance the entirety. The elements beneath are familiar enough, but Deer Lord put an encouraging spin of their own on it, and especially as their debut, it’s hard to imagine some label or other won’t get on board, if not for pressing this, then maybe Pt. 2 to come. Perhaps both?
IO Audio Recordings, Awaiting the Elliptical Drift & VVK
Compiling two 2022 EPs into a single LP and releasing through a microcosm of underground imprints in various terrestrial locales, IO Audio Recordings‘ Awaiting the Elliptical Drift & VVK is my first exposure to the Orange, CA, out-there-in-space unit, and from the blower kosmiche rocking “Awaiting the Elliptical Drift” to the sitar meditation “Luminous Suspension,” and the hazy wash of “Sunrise and Overdrive” (that’s side A) to the experimentalist consumption of “VVK” and “Gramanita” rounding out with its heartbeat rhythm giving over to a hardly-flatlined drone after shuffling cool and bassy and fuzzy with jangly jam strum overtop, I tell you in all sincerity it won’t be my last. There’s a broad cross-section stylistically, which suits a compilation mindset, but I get the feeling that if you called it an album instead, the situation would be much the same thanks to an underlying conceptualism and the adventuring purpose beneath the open-structured fluidity. That’s just fine, as IO Audio Recordings‘ sundry transformations only enhance the anything-that-works-goes and shelf-your-expectations listening experience. Not that there’s no tension in their groovy approach, but the abiding sensibility advises an open mind and maybe a couple deep breaths in and out before you take it on. But then definitely take it on. If you need me, I’ll be spending money I don’t have on Bandcamp.
While “bong” in a band name usually connotes dense sludge in my head, Oslo four-piece Bong Voyage defy that stereotype with their Dec. 2022-released second single, “Feverlung” — the first single was October’s “Buzzed Aldrin” — and no, the song isn’t about the pandemic, it’s about getting high. The six-minute rocker hoists jammy flourish mostly in its second half, in a break that, in turn, shifts into uptempo semi-space rock post-Slift pulsations atop a progression that, while I’ll readily admit it sounds little like the song on the whole still puts me in mind of Kyuss‘ “Odyssey” in its vocal patterning and melody. That ending is a step outward from the solidified early verses, which are more straight ahead heavy rock in the vein of Freedom Hawk or a less-directly-Ozzy take on Sheavy, and while one listening for them to bring it back around to the initial riff will find that they don’t, the band’s time isn’t necessarily misspent in terms of serving the song by letting it push beyond exospheric traps. They won’t catch me by surprise next time aesthetically, and it wouldn’t be a shock to find Bong Voyage in among the subset of up and coming heavy rockers that’s put Norway on the underground radar so much these last couple years. Either way, I’ll look forward to more here.
In its early going, Sun Years‘ “Codex” stagger-sludges like Eyehategod with guitarist Dalton Huskin‘s shouty echoing vocals on top, but as it moves into its second half, there’s a pickup in tempo and a bit of swirling lead guitar emerges in the 4:37 song’s closing stretch as Asechiah Bogdan (ex-Windhand, ex-Alabama Thunderpussy) makes his presence felt. Alongside bassist Buddy Bryant and drummer Erik Larson (once-and-again guitarist for Alabama Thunderpussy, drummer of Avail, Omen Stones, ex-Backwoods Payback, the list goes on), Bogdan and Huskin explore mellower and more melodic reaches the subsequent “Teeth Like Stars,” still holding some of their demo’s lead track’s urgency as a weighted riff takes hold in trade with the relatively subdued verse. That’s a back and forth they’ll do again, moving the second time from the more weighted progression into a solo and build into a return of the harsher vocals, some double-kick drumming and a last shove that lasts until everything drops out except one guitar and that riffs for a few seconds before being cut off mid-measure. Well, that’s a band with more dynamic in their first two tracks than some have in their entire careers, so I guess it’s safe to say it’ll be worth following the Richmond, Virginia, foursome to see where they end up next time out.
Recorded by Jan Oberg (Grin, Slowshine, EarthShip) at Hidden Planet Studio in Berlin, Daevar‘s five-track/32-minute 2023 debut album, Delirious Rites, arrives likewise through Oberg‘s imprint The Lasting Dose Records and finds the man himself sitting in for guest vocals on the 10-minute “Leviathan” alongside the band’s own bassist/vocalist Pardis Latif, who leads the band from the depths of the rhythm section’s lurch on the gradually unfolding Windhand-vibing leadoff “Slowshine,” the particularly Monolordian “Bloody Fingers” with Caspar Orfgen‘s guitar howling over a marching riff, and “Leila” where Moritz Ermen Bausch‘s drums offer a welcoming grounding to Electric Wizardly nod and swirl. Thus, by the time his spot in the aforementioned “Leviathan” rolls (and I do mean rolls) around, just ahead of closer “Yellow Queen,” the layers of growling and screaming he adds to the procession are a standout shift well placed to play off the atmosphere established by the previous tracks. Shortest at 5:10, “Yellow Queen” lumbers through more ethereal doom and hints at a psychedelic current that might continue to develop in a midsection drifting break that builds back into the catchy plod from whence it came. Not necessarily innovative at this point — they’re a new band — but they seem to know what they want in terms of sound and style, and that only ever bodes well.
