Posted in Whathaveyou on April 7th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Checking in from coincidence-land, I was lucky enough to see Dopelord last summer in Budapest (review here), and the band they were touring with, Ukrainian heavy rockers Stoned Jesus, are now their labelmates on Season of Mist. Of course, if you heard Dopelord‘s 2023 Blues Funeral-issued long-player, Songs for Satan(review here), I can’t imagine you’re all that surprised. In its songwriting, grooves, Satan-is-a-blast vibes and audience engagement, it was the band’s best work and given the swath of press quotes that came with this announcement on the PR wire, clearly I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Congrats to Dopelord and onward to album six. No word yet on what kind of shenanigans the band (and their buddy, the Devil) will get up to this time around, but I look forward to finding out:
Dopelord Sign to Season of Mist
Doomy Stoners Busy Crafting Wickedly Heady Sixth Album
Celebrating 15th Anniversary during Tour of Native Poland + London’s Desert Fest, Farewell Date with Orange Goblin
Season of Mist is proud to welcome Dopelord!
Since budding out of Poland in 2010, Dopelord have cultivated their own heavily psychedelic strand of stoner metal. While they worship at the altar of the almighty riff, the band’s discography is blessed with haunting choruses, catchy trancelike riffs and other signs of the occult.
Dopelord are busy crafting full-length album number 6(66). When they’re not lighting up the studio, the band are out rolling the road with their hazy magick ritual. With highly regarded appearances at festivals like Brutal Assault and tours with current and former Season of Mist labelmates Stoned Jesus and Saint Vitus, the smoke from their weed cult stretches over the world of metal like a dank, dark cloud.
Come party with Dopelord as the band celebrates its 15th anniversary next month with a return to London’s Desertfest and five shows across their home country. Later this year, they’ll join legendary tokers Orange Goblin for the English heavies final show in Finland.
“We are beyond excited to announce that we are joining Season of Mist!” Dopelord says. “We are honored to be working with a label that has such a rich history and supports so many amazing bands. Get ready for some heavy, psychedelic doom that will take you on a journey deep into your mind. See you on the road!”
Dopelord May 2025 15th Anniversary Dates May 16 – Warszawa, PL @ Klub Mechnik w/ Sanity Control and Head of Cassandra May 18 – London, UK @ Desertfest May 22 – Katowice, PL @ Piaty Dom w/ Astral Nomad May 23 – Poznan, PL @ Pod Minoga w/ Red Scalp May 24 – Krakow, PL @ Alchemia w/ Sanity Control May 25 – Wroclaw, PL @ Liverpool w/ Sanity Control
Dopelord with Orange Goblin November 15 – Helsinki, Finland @ Ääniwalli
DOPELORD is Paweł Mioduchowski – Guitars and Vocals Piotr Ochociński – Drums Grzegorz Pawłowski – Guitars Piotr Zin – Bass, Vocals and Mellotron
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 4th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Continuing the project’s thread pulling together elements of grunge, metal, heavy psychedelia and atmospheric doom, Mountain of Misery — the solo outfit helmed by Kamil Ziółkowski, also known for his drum and vocal work in Spaceslug, Palm Desert and O.D.R.A., let alone running the label Electric Witch Mountain Recordings or recording at his studio of the same name — today presents Shades of the Ashes as its latest immersive full-length. The tonal richness of what the band has wrought to-date is in the new album’s material as well, but there’s a stripping-down happening as well in pieces like “Speed King” and the roller “Lightness at the End” that bring new character and momentum to what surrounds. Clearly, Ziółkowski is still adventuring, is the point I’m trying to make.
So much the better. You can stream the album in full, and it’s Friday and everybody’s busy, so why don’t you just go ahead and do that and then blow off the rest of whatever the hell you had on today because screw it anyhow and go enjoy a thing for a while. If your boss, or teacher, or partner, or mom has words about it, send them my way. The contact form is in the sidebar. I’m happy to explain the situation.
No real press release or announcement here, but the recording info and the player follow. Again, enjoy:
MOUNTAIN OF MISERY – 🌗”Shades Of The Ashes” out now!🌓
Recorded at Electric Witch Mountain Recordings by Kamil Ziółkowski (January/February 2025) MIxed and Mastered by Haldor Grunberg (Satanic Audio) Produced by Kamil Ziółkowski & Haldor Grunberg All music and lyrics by Mountain Of Misery Cover artwork by Łukasz Puzdrowski LP Layout by Artur Rolik No. EWMR006LP
Tracklisting: 1. Thornado 2. Follow the Sun 3. Mystify 4. Speed Kig 5. From Fall to Rise 6. Interlude 7. Lightness at the End 8. Blow
Posted in Reviews on December 10th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Day two. I mean, it’s work in the sense of it takes effort to put together these posts and structure thoughts into hopefully somewhat coherent sentences, etc., but at this point the Quarterly Review is a pretty important tool for me to hear records that, generally once I hear them, I feel like I want to be covering. Sometimes the intensity of that feeling varies; there are things that don’t “fit” with the stoner-and-doom adjacent foundations of what this site does, but the format allows for that flexibility as well, and I credit the QR for helping broaden the perspective of the site as a whole and making me push my own boundaries.
Admittedly, the trade for covering so much — 50 records in five days is a lot, if it needs to be said — is that I can’t always get as deep as I otherwise might, but as I’ve said before, the fact is that I’m one person, and if writing about a lot of this stuff didn’t happen in this way, it probably wouldn’t happen at all. It’s still never going to be everything I want to cover, but doing it this was is often more suited to the subject at hand than a longform writeup would be, it gives me a chance to explore, it’s a consistently challenging undertaking on multiple levels, and it’s satisfying like little else around here when you’re on the other end of one and immediately start building the next.
I’m not entirely sure why I felt the need right there to justify the existence of the entire Quarterly Review thing as a part of this site. If you care, thanks. If not, I can only call that understandable. Thanks for seeing this sentence and whatever you came here for anyway.
We march on, into day two.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
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Fuzz Sagrado, Cold Remains
As Christian Peters has gradually embraced his inner rocker over the last couple years with Fuzz Sagrado, rediscovering the sacredness of tone, if you will, and using an expanded palette of synth and keyboards to build on the project’s beginnings while tying it together with his prior outfit, the heavy psych rockers Samsara Blues Experiment, it’s fascinating how much the respective personalities of the two acts still shine through. On Cold Remains, along with the new song “Snowchild” that leads off, Peters showcases three until-now lost pieces that have their origins in his former band but were never released: “Cold Remains,” a grim-lyric title-track given due heft of low end, the short “Morphine Prayer,” which intertwines acoustic strum and electric leads and drops the drums for an even more open feel, and “Neurotic Nirvana,” which clues you into the grunge of its central riff in the title but stretches outward from there across six minutes with particular bliss in the solo for a hopeful second half. It sounds like reconciliation, and in that, it fits well with the ongoing growth of Peters‘ Brazilian period.
From the punkish opening shove of “Rat Race” and “Manic Street Ballet,” 24/7 Diva Heaven‘s second full-length for Noisolution, Gift, unfolds a style that’s both raw and dense enough to carry a heavy groove, straightforward but nuanced in craft and threaded through with attitude born out of ’90s-era riot grrrl noise rock, but able to temper that somewhat with a mellower, more melodic rocker like “Crown of Creation” — some influence from The Donnas, maybe? — before the sharp-edged intensity of “Face Down” and the thrust of “These Days” precede the centerpiece title-track’s quiet-grunge trading off with careening, hard-hitting punk rock in a way that works. No worries, as “L.O.V.E. Forever” and the Godsleep-esque aggro-rocker “Suck it Up” follow at what might be the start of side B, with a highlight bassy groove in the QOTSA-meets-Nirvana catchy “Born to Get Bored,” staying in a heavy rock modus but nonetheless faster and kind of threatening to throw a punch in “Flawless Fool,” the piano-led “Nothing Lasts” capping with duly wistful minimalism. Killer. It’s 11 tracks in 32 minutes, wastes zero of its own or your time, and has something to say both in sound and its lyrics. This band should be on all the festivals.
Holy smokes that’s a vibe. Even at its most active — which would be “Grey Smoke,” if you want specifics — the heavygaze-adjacent psych blues rock of Germany’s Mount Hush holds an encompassing sense of atmosphere, and while cuts like “All I See” or the smokey “Blues for the Dead” can trace some of what they do to the likes of All Them Witches, Queens of the Stone Age, Colour Haze, and so on, the material is inventive, unrushed and explores outward from a solid foundation of craft, leaning perhaps deepest into psych on “Celestial Eyes,” featuring a classy bit of flute in the penultimate “54” and going big in melody and tone for the finishing move in “Blood Red Sky,” working in Eastern scales for a meditative feel while staying loyal to its own distortion and post-Uncle Acid swing; one more part of the not-slapdash pastiche Mount Hush build as they take a marked breadth of influence, melt it down and shape something of their own from it. Gorgeously. Flowing with grace at no expense to the impact, II is a striking and forward looking point of arrival waiting to be caught up to. This is a band I’m glad to have heard, even before you get to the RPG.
Wherever you’re headed, Luna Sol are ready to meet you there. David Angstrom — also of Hermano — leads the bluesy heavy rockers with a slew of choice, family-style cuts. Granted, with 15 tracks and more than 50 minutes of material, there’s room to move around a bit, but whether it’s the Leaf Hound cover “Freelance Fiend” or Mountain‘s “Never in My Life” or the delay-laced verses of not-a-cover “Surrounded by Thieves” later on, Vita Mors offers both scope and craft around the heavy blues framework. That can get a little meaner tonally in “Watch Our Skeletons Die” or fuzzily back a bouncing groove on “I’ll Be Your One,” and the songs will remain united through Angstrom‘s vocals and the trust the band as a whole earn through the strength of their songwriting. It’s not a minor undertaking in an age of short attention spans, but given their time, Vita Mors‘ songs can very easily start to live with you.
Taut in their two-guitar drive and going big on hooks and harmonies alike, Ian Blurton’s Future Now‘s second album, Crimes of the City, is a heart-on-sleeve heavy rocker brimming with life, purpose in its construction, and a sense of celebrating the riffs and metals of old. With Blurton himself on guitar/vocals, guitarist Aaron Goldstein, bassist Anna Ruddick and drummer Glenn Milchem — Gregory MacDonald is also listed as ‘The Goose’ in the credits — the four-piece don’t touch the four-minute mark once in Crimes of the City‘s succession of 10 bangers, despite coming close in “Cast Away the Stones,” and as one could only expect, the songs are air tight in structure and delivery. And just when it seems to run the risk of being too perfect, Blurton drops the layers for the verse of “Nocturnal Transmissions” or exudes sheer delight in the ’80s metal of “Seventh Sin of Devotion,” or the whole band rides a groove like “School’s In,” and it’s all so open, welcoming and vibrant that it can’t help but be human in the end. Killer at any volume, but more don’t hurt.
Prone to a psych-garage freakout, willfully jagged on the swaying “Two Birds,” indie drifting to the Riff-Filled Land™ and the neighboring Epicsolosburg on “Ten Lies” and righteously horny/not creepy on “Woman,” Mirage is the first full-length from South Africa’s Moskitos, and while it has some element of sneer as a facet inherited from in-genre influences, “Ryder” still feels sincere as it departs what Moe called a “carhole” one time in favor of a more open landscape. There’s intricacy in the rhythm of “Believer” if you want it, and the set-up-for-contrast relative patience of opener “Umbra,” which, yeah, still twists the cosmos a bit by the time it’s done, is a highlight as well, and “Trigger” shifts between quiet parts and putting a shuffle beneath its melodic ending, but some of the most effective moments here are more about the soul behind it all. The feel is loose, but they’re not without a plan, and while there’s no shortage of haze between here and there, it will be interesting to hear how Moskitos build on ideas like the expansive-but-not-unpoppy-till-the-payoff “Ten Lies” and what new ground they find as they move forward.
This Halloween-issued sequel to Deer Lord‘s early-2023 EP, Dark Matter (review here) unfolds across six tracks broken into two sides of three each. Each begins with its longest track (immediate points), and uses the spaciousness cast in “Dark Matter” (8:11) and “Intelligent Life” (7:24), respectively, to bolster the atmosphere of the rockers that follow, “Faster” and “Dogma” on side A, the swinging cosmic blowout “Blade” and closer “Pay” on side B. If that makes it sound somewhat orderly, this symmetry is contrasted by the loosen-your-head psychedelic drive of “Dogma” or “Faster” sounding like Clutch as beamed from Voyager 1 hitting a gravity wave on the way. The now-trio of guitarist/vocalist Sheafer McOmber, drummer Ryan Alderman and bassist Jared Marill hit on a sonic niche of earthy fuzz meeting with spaced plasmatic volatility. It’s big and it moves! It would be more of a surprise if they weren’t signed by somebody or other by the time they get around to their debut full-length.
Following up on their 2023 self-titled-if-you-go-by-apparent-pronunciation LP, Tiefenrausch, Book of Circles sees instrumentalist three-piece TFNRSH make a striking entry into the admittedly crowded German and greater European sans-vocal heavy psychedelic underground. Standing out through a proggy use of synth, the second album offers “Zorn” in the place the first put “Slift,” and while it’s true the band remain not without influence from the modern European heavy psychedelic ouevre — some of the twists in “Zemestån” feel Elderian, as an example — they’re distinguished not only by how heavy “Zorn” eventually gets or “WRZL” is at its outset, or by Julius Watzl‘s stellar hold-it-together drumming amid the currents of synth being run by both guitarist Sasan Bahreini and bassist Stefan Wettengl there, but also by the float and patience of “Ammoglÿd” — imagine a mid-period Anathema intro but it unfolds as the whole song and it works — which only underscores the progressive mindset underlying all of this material. The kind of record that won’t hit with everybody but will hit with some very, very hard.
While based largely in doom, Altareth‘s Passage: The Welfare Sessions absolutely soars in the solo of its centerpiece track “Singapore,” picking up from a mellower kind of lumbering brood and answering the lift of its middle with a push to the finish. Passage: The Welfare Sessions may be worth the asking price for that alone, but that hardly means that’s all the Gothenburg five-piece have on offer, when there’s acoustic to layer into the subsequent “Pilgrim” or the blend of murk and impact in the rolling leadoff “Passage,” the way “The Stars” holds to its crawling tempo but offers a sense of payoff anyhow, or the psychedelia that runs alongside the march of “Recluse,” which rounds out the reportedly live-recorded proceedings with emotive melancholy and a final stretch of quiet, sample-topped guitar. Produced by Kalle Lilja and Per Stålberg at Welfare Sounds, hence the title, Passage: The Welfare Sessions speaks even more boldly to the band’s potential than their 2021 debut, Blood (review here). Don’t be fooled by smooth transitions and a subtlety of scope. Altareth are onto something.
If you find yourself wanting to applaud in the couple seconds of silence between “Bat Trip” and the pointedly doomjazzy “Piosenka o przemijaniu,” at least know that you’re not alone. Antropocen is the debut full-length from Kraków, Poland’s Jarzma, and with it, the band invent a style of playing that is immediately their own, basing their arrangements around nyckelharpha and imaginative percussion and drumming either folkish or not, voices coming and going through songs that don’t just sound the way they do as a novelty, but break their own rules from the very outset in the poppish dance hook of opener “Big Heat.” It’s brazen, it’s masterful in terms of performance, and it’s made from a place of wanting to add to the scope of the genre that birthed it (doom/heavy) and represent something about its place to those outside. I guess you could call it experimental in terms of sound, but that’s not to say there’s anything haphazard about it. Given the range of what they’re doing — the band is comprised of Piotr Aleksander Nowak on the aforementioned nyckelharpa and drummer/vocalist Katarzyna Bobik, and there are guests throughout — it’s kind of astonishing for how clearly the plan comes across, actually. When you want something in heavy music you’ve never heard before, Jarzmo will be waiting.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 8th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Comprised of Piotr Aleksander Nowak on nyckelharpa and vocals and drummer Katarzyna Bobik, who also adds vocals and various percussive whatnot, the Kraków-set two-piece Jarzmo have released their debut album, Antropocen through Interstellar Smoke Records, with an aim toward bringing together traditional Polish folk elements with the groove and tonal presence of heavy rock and roll.
It’s not an idea without conceptual precedent — I can’t think of another specifically Polish outfit who’ve done the same, but countries like Finland and Spain have certainly managed successful folk/heavy fusions, and there’s the entire genre of folk metal itself, if you want to talk about that — but the sound of the nyckelharpa brings an unique range of tones to Antropocen‘s dense-feeling 11-track/52-minute course, and Nowak and Bobik incorporate live sessions and guests into the proceedings, so in addition to their own ability to explore different ideas in songwriting — without which I expect the band wouldn’t exist in the first place; the whole idea is an experiment — and shifts between instrumental and periodic vocal arrangements and outwardly heavier distortion like “Court Dances” that makes for such a highlight, there are layers of change to be found throughout.
This makes Antropocen a work of scope as much as it’s proof-of-concept for what Jarzmo are doing aesthetically. Would you be surprised if I told you “Twin Peaks” reminded me a bit of the Melvins? Probably you shouldn’t be.
Info came down the PR wire, but it’s the audio you want here. If you don’t want the Bandcamp player, the streaming link is right under the headline below. Can’t miss it. If you’ve got thoughts on what you’re hearing and want to share in the comments, I’m curious to know for sure:
JARZMO – Debut Album of the polish stoner etno duo “Antropocen”
Emerging from a fusion of medieval resonance and modern grit, Jarzmo’s debut album, “Antropocen”, unveils 11 progressive compositions that blend stoner rock/metal with folk sounds.
This ethno-stoner duo Jarzmo is based in Kraków. They center their music around the unique tones of the nyckelharpa (or keyboard viola), played by Piotr Aleksander Nowak, who also provides vocals. The beat and pulse come from Katarzyna Bobik on drums, who completes the duo with her distinct vocal contributions.
With each track, “Antropocen” explores the pressing themes of today’s world, addressing issues like overproduction, overpopulation, and the climate crisis, encapsulating the challenges of our overstimulated, technology-dependent era.
Jarzmo’s sound takes listeners into a pre-apocalyptic realm—one that is foggy, cold, and heavy with electronic waste, yet echoing with the spirit of traditional folk.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 1st, 2024 by JJ Koczan
The part of the new Mountain of Misery single that really hits me is right around the midpoint, circa four and a half minutes in, where the steady roll that multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Kamil Ziółkowski (also Spaceslug, Palm Desert, and so on) has built up kind of starts to let itself come apart a bit. It’s the transition to a stretch of not-quite-minimal atmospherics, and of course “Valley of Light” has a crash-in waiting on the other side with due heft behind it, but that moment where Ziółkowski, as a full band might, is able to hone an organic band-in-room feel on his own, to me emphasizes a strength in both the production and writing processes. Might’ve just been one of those things that happened as the recording was underway, but it’s in there, it sounds natural, and the track is stronger for it.
Perhaps so much the better, then, that “Valley of Light” is featured on the preorders-up LP edition of Mountain of Misery‘s earlier-2024 sophomore full-length, The Land (review here). It seems to have been recorded after the album, which makes it the latest work from Ziółkowski‘s solo outfit, and all the more encouraging for the sense of progression accompanying its fluidity and dreamy/dreary melody.
Single and album stream at the bottom of the post. Info below comes from Bandcamp:
Here is The “Valley Of Lights”, the heaviest and the longest song of Mountain Of Misery. Hope you enjoy it.
This song is an addition and the last track to the vinyl version of THE LAND album. Pre-order for “The Land/Valley Of Light” (circa 46 minutes of music) is out now:https://mountainofmisery.bandcamp.com/merch
VINYL “THE LAND/VALLEY OF LIGHTS” PRE-ORDER in 2 colors (White & Transparent Pink) available at the merch site and at THE LAND site album. Everyone who purchases Vinyl THE LAND will receive a free code to download “Valley Of Light” song via e-mail.
released June 28, 2024
Recorded by Kamil Ziółkowski at Electric Witch Mountain Recordings (March/June 2024) Mixed & Mastered by Haldor Grunberg (Satanic Audio) Music & Lyrics by Mountain Of Misery Cover photo by Joshue Earle
This is it. This one’s for all the marbles. Well, actually there are no marbles involved, but if you remember way back like two weeks ago when this started out, I told you the tale of a hubristic 40-something dickweed blogger who thought he could review 100 albums in 10 days, and assuming I make it through the below without having an aneurysm — because, hey, you never know — today I get to live that particular fairy tale.
Lamp of the Universe Meets Dr. Space, Enters Your Somas
Who’s ready to get blasted out the airlock? New Zealand solo-outfit Lamp of the Universe, aka multi-instrumentalist Craig Williamson (also Dead Shrine, ex-Datura, etc.), and Portugal-residing synth master Dr. Space, aka Scott Heller of Øresund Space Collective, Black Moon Circle, and so on, come together to remind us all we’re nothing more than semi-sentient cosmic dust. Enters Your Somas is comprised of two extended pieces, “Enters Your Somas” (18:39) and “Infiltrates Your Mind” (19:07), and both resonate space/soul frequencies while each finds its own path. The title-track is more languid on average, where “Infiltrates Your Mind” reroutes auxiliary power to the percussive thrusters in its first half before drifting into drone communion and hearing a voice — vague, but definitely human speech — before surging back to its course via Williamson‘s drums, which play a large role in giving the material its shape. But with synthy sweeps from Heller, Mellotron and guitar coming and going, and a steady groove across both inclusions, Lamp of the Universe Meets Dr. Space offer galactic adventure limited only by where your imagination puts you while you listen.
Richmond, Virginia’s Inter Arma had no small task before them in following 2019’s Sulphur English (review here), but from the tech-death boops and bops and twists of New Heaven‘s leadoff title-track through the gothic textures of “Gardens in the Dark,” self-aware without satire, slow-flowing and dramatic, this fifth full-length finds them continuing to expand their creative reach, and at this point, whatever genre you might want to cast them in, they stand out. To wit, the blackdeath onslaught of “Violet Seizures” that’s also space rock, backed in that by the subsequent “Desolation’s Harp” with its classically grandiose solo, or the post-doom lumber of “Concrete Cliffs” that calls out its expanse after the seven-minute drum-playthrough-fodder extremity of “The Children the Bombs Overlooked,” or the mournful march of “Endless Grey” and the acoustic-led Nick Cavey epilogue “Forest Service Road Blues.” Few bands embrace a full spectrum of metallic sounds without coming across as either disjointed or like they’re just mashing styles together for the hell of it. Inter Arma bleed purpose in every turn, and as they inch closer to their 20th year as a band, they are masters unto themselves of this form they’ve created.
The opening “Chimera” puts Chasing Shadows quickly into a ritualized mindset, all the more as Warsaw meditative doomers Sunnata lace it and a decent portion of their 11-track/62-minute fifth album with an arrangement of vocals from guitarists Szymon Ewertowski and Adrian Gadomski and bassist/synthesist Michal Dobrzanski as drummer/percussionist Robert Ruszczyk punctuates on snare as they head toward a culmination. Individual pieces have their own purposes, whether it’s the momentary float of “Torn” or the post-Alice in Chains harmonies offset by Twin Peaks-y creep in “Saviours Raft,” or the way “Hunger” gradually moves from light to dark with rolling immersion, or the dancier feel with which “Like Cogs in a Wheel” gives an instrumental finish. It’s not a minor undertaking and it’s not meant to be one, but mood and atmosphere do a lot of work in uniting the songs, and the low-in-the-mouth vocal melodies become a part of that as the record unfolds. Their range has never felt broader, but there’s a plot being followed as well, an idea behind each turn in “Wishbone” and the sprawl is justified by the dug-in worldmaking taking place across the whole-LP progression, darkly psychedelic and engrossing as it is.
Among the most vital classic elements of The Sonic Dawn‘s style is their ability to take spacious ideas and encapsulate them with a pop efficiency that doesn’t feel dumbed down. That is to say, they’re not capitulating to fickle attention spans with short songs so much as they’re able to get in, say what they want to say with a given track, and get out. Phantom is their fifth album, and while the title may allude to a certain ghostliness coinciding with the melancholy vibe overarching through the bulk of its component material, the Copenhagen-based trio are mature enough at this stage to know what they’re about. And while Phantom has its urgent stretches in the early going of “Iron Bird” or the rousing “Think it Over,” the handclap-laced “Pan AM,” and the solo-topped apex of “Micro Cosmos in a Drop,” most of what they’re about here harnesses a mellower atmosphere. It doesn’t need to hurry, baby. Isn’t there enough rush in life with all these “21st Century Blues?” With no lack of movement throughout, some of The Sonic Dawn‘s finest stretches here are in low-key interpretations of funk (“Dreams of Change,” “Think it Over,” “Transatlantique,” etc.) or prog-boogie (“Scorpio,” “Nothing Can Live Here” before the noisier crescendo) drawn together by organ, subdued, thoughtful vocal melodies and craft to suit the organic production. This isn’t the first The Sonic Dawn LP to benefit from the band knowing who they are as a group, but golly it sure is stronger for that.
It’s not until the hook of second cut “Ohm Ripper” hits that Rifflord let go of the tension built up through the opening semi-title-track “Serpent Power,” which in its thickened thrashy charge feels like a specific callout to High on Fire but as I understand it is just about doing hard drugs. Fair enough. The South Dakota-based five-piece of bassist/vocalist Wyatt Bronc Bartlett, guitarists Samuel Hayes and Dustin Vano, keyboardist Tory Jean Stoddard and drummer Douglas Jennings Barrett will echo that intensity later in “Church Keys” and “Tumbleweed,” but that’s still only one place the 38-minute eight-track LP goes, and whether it’s the vocals calling out through the largesse and breadth of “Blessed Life” or the ensuing crush that follows in “LM308,” the addled Alice in Chains swagger in the lumber of “Grim Creeper” or the righteously catchy bombast of “Hoof,” they reach further than they ever have in terms of sound and remain coherent despite the inherently chaotic nature of their purported theme, the sheer heft of the tonality wielded and the fact that 39 Serpent Power has apparently been waiting some number of years to see release. Worth the wait? Shit, I’m surprised the album didn’t put itself out, it sounds so ready to go.
At the core of Mothman and the Thunderbirds is multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Alex Parkinson, and on the band’s second album, Portal Hopper, he’s not completely on his own — Egor Lappo programmed the drums, mixed, and plays a guitar solo on “Fractals,” Joe Sobieski guests on vocals for a couple tracks, Sam Parkinson donates a pair of solos to the cause — but it’s still very much his telling of the charmingly meandering sci-fi/fantasy plot taking place across the 12 included progressive metal mini-epics, which he presents with an energy and clarity of purpose that for sure graduated from Devin Townsend‘s school of making a song with 40 layers sound immediate but pulls as well from psychedelia and pop-punk vocals for an all the more emphatic scope. This backdrop lets “Fractals” get funky or “Escape From Flatwoods” hold its metallic chicanery with its soaring melody while “Squonk Kingdom” is duly over-the-top in its second-half chase soon enough fleshed out by “So Long (Portal Hopper)” ahead of the lightly-plucked finale “Attic.” The specificity of influence throughout Portal Hopper can be striking as clean/harsh vocals blend, etc., but given the narrative and the relative brevity of the songs complementing the whims explored within them, there’s no lack of character in the album’s oft-careening 38-minute course.
Given its pro-shop nature in production and performance, the ability of The Lunar Effect to grasp a heavy blues sound as part of what they do while avoiding either the trap of hyper-dudely navelgazing or cultural appropriation — no minor feat — and the fluidity of one piece into the next across the 40-minute LP’s two sides, I’m a little surprised not to have been sick of the band’s second album, Sounds of Green and Blue before I put it on. Maybe since it’s on Svart everyone just assumed it’s Finnish experimentalist drone? Maybe everybody’s burnt out on a seemingly endless stream of bands from London’s underground? I don’t know, but by the time The Lunar Effect make their way to the piano-laden centerpiece “Middle of the End” — expanding on the unhurried mood of “In Grey,” preceding the heavy blues return of “Pulling Daisies” at the start of side B that mirrors album opener “Ocean Queen” and explodes into a roll that feels like it was made to be the best thing you play at your DJ night — that confusion is a defining aspect of the listening experience. “Fear Before the Fall” picks on Beethoven, for crying out loud. High class and low groove. Believe me, I know there’s a lot of good stuff out already in 2024, but what the hell more could you want? Where is everybody?
Even if I were generally inclined to do so — read: I’m not — it would be hard to begrudge Portland heavy rock institution Danava wanting to do a live record after their 2023’s Nothing But Nothing (review here) found them in such raucous form. But the aptly-titled Live is more than just a post-studio-LP check-in to remind you they kick ass on stage, as side A’s space, classic, boogie, heavy rocking “Introduction/Spinning Temple” and “Maudie Shook” were recorded in 2008, while the four cuts on side B — “Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun,” “Nothing but Nothing,” “Longdance,” “Let the Good Times Kill” and “Last Goodbye” — came from the European tour undertaken in Fall 2023 to support Nothing But Nothing. Is the underlying message that Danava are still rad 15 years later? Maybe. That certainly comes through by the time the solo in “Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun” hits, but that also feels like reading too much into it. Maybe it’s just about representing different sides of who Danava are, and if so, fine. Then or now, psych or proto-thrashing, they lay waste.
A free three-songer from Varese, Italy’s Moonlit, Be Not Afraid welcomes the listener to “Death to the World” with (presumably sampled) chanting before unfurling a loose, somewhat morose-feeling nighttime-desert psych sway before “Fort Rachiffe” howls tonally across its own four minutes in more heavy post-rock style, still languid in tempo but encompassing in its wash and the amp-hum-and-percussion blend on the shorter “Le Conseguenze Della Libertà” (1:57) gives yet another look, albeit briefly. In about 11 minutes, Moonlit — whose last studio offering was 2021’s So Bless Us Now (review here) — never quite occupy the same space twice, and despite the compact presentation, the range from mid-period-QOTSA-gone-shoegaze (plus chanting! don’t forget the chanting!) to the hypnotic Isis-doing-space-push that follows with the closer as a but-wait-there’s-more/not-just-an-afterthought epilogue is palpable. I don’t know when or how Be Not Afraid was recorded, whether it’s portentous of anything other than itself or what, but there’s a lot happening under its surface, and while you can’t beat the price, don’t be surprised if you end up throwing a couple bucks Moonlit‘s way anyhow.
Much of Northern Lights is instrumental, but whether or not Leo Scheben is barking out the endtimes storyline of “Darkhammer” — stylized all-caps in the tracklisting — or “Night Terrors,” or just digging into a 24-second progression of lo-fi riffing of “Paranoid Isolation” and the Casio-type beats that back his guitar there and across the project’s 16-track latest offering, the reminder Doom Lab give is that the need to create takes many forms. From the winding scales of “Locrian’s Run” to “Twisted Logic” with its plotted solo lines, pieces are often just that — pieces of what might otherwise be a fleshed-out song — and Doom Lab‘s experimentalism feels paramount in terms of aural priorities. Impulse in excelsis. It might be for the best that the back-to-back pair “Nice ‘n’ Curvy” and “Let ’em Bounce” are both instrumental, but as madcap as Scheben is, he’s able to bring Northern Lights to a close with resonant homage in its title-track, and cuts like “Too Much Sauce on New Year’s Eve” and “Dark Matter” are emblematic of his open-minded approach overall, working in different styles sometimes united most by their rawness and uncompromising persona. This is number 100 of 100 records covered in this Quarterly Review, and nothing included up to now sounds like Doom Lab. A total win for radical individualism.
Good morning and heavy riffs. Today is day 7 of the Quarterly Review. It’s already been a lot, but there are still 30 more releases to cover over the next three days, so I assure you at some point I’ll have that nervous breakdown that’s been ticking away in the back of my brain. A blast as always, which I mean both sincerely and sarcastically, somehow.
But when we’re done, 100 releases will have been covered, and I get a medal sent to me whenever that happens from the UN’s Stoner Rock Commission on Such Things, so I’ll look forward to that. In the meantime, we’re off.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
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Ufomammut, Hidden
Italian cosmic doomers Ufomammut celebrate their 25th anniversary in 2024, and as they always have, they do so by looking and moving forward. Hidden is the 10th LP in their catalog, the second to feature drummer Levre — who made his debut on 2022’s Fenice (review here) alongside bassist/vocalist Urlo and guitarist Poia (both also keyboards) — and it was preceded by last year’s Crookhead EP (review here), the 10-minute title-track of which is repurposed as the opener here. A singular, signature blend of heft and synth-based atmospherics, Ufomammut roll fluidly through the six-tracker check-in, and follow on from Fenice in sounding refreshed while digging into their core stylistic purposes. “Spidher” brings extra tonal crush around its open verse, and “Mausoleum” has plenty of that as well but is less condensed and hypnotic in its atmospheric midsection, Ufomammut paying attention to details while basking in an overarching largesse. The penultimate “Leeched” was the lead single for good reason, and the four-minute “Soulost” closes with a particularly psychedelic exploration of texture and drone with the drums keeping it moving. 25 years later and there’s still new things to discover. I hear the universe is like that.
Considering some of the places Dana Schechter has taken Insect Ark over the project’s to-date duration, most of Raw Blood Singing might at times feel daringly straightforward, but that’s hardly a detriment to the material itself. Songs like “The Hands” bring together rhythmic tension and melodic breadth, as soundscapes of drone, low end chug and the drumming of Tim Wyskida (also Khanate, Blind Idiot God) cast a morose, encompassing atmospheric vision. And rest assured, while “The Frozen Lake” lumbers through its seven minutes of depressive post-sludge — shades of The Book of Knots at their heaviest, but still darker — and “Psychological Jackal” grows likewise harsher and horrific, the experimentalist urge continues to resonate; the difference is it’s being set to serve the purposes of the songs themselves in “Youth Body Swayed” or “Cleaven Hearted,” which slogs like death-doom with a strum cutting through to replace vocals, whereas the outro “Ascension” highlights the noise on its own. It is a bleak, consuming course presented over Raw Blood Singing‘s 45 minutes, but there’s solace in the catharsis as well.
Laced through with harmonica and organic vibes, Netherlands-based five-piece Heath make their full-length debut with the four extended tracks of Isaak’s Marble, reveling in duly expansive jams keyed for vibrancy and a live sound. They are somewhat the band-between as regards microgenres, with a style that can be traced on the opening title-cut to heavy ’70s funk-boogie-via-prog-rock, and the harmonica plays a role there before spacing out with echo over top of the psychedelia beginning of “Wondrous Wetlands.” The wetlands in question, incidentally, might just be the guitar tone, but that haze clears a bit as the band saunters into a light shuffle jam before the harder-hitting build into a crescendo that sounds unhinged but is in fact quite under control as it turns back to a softshoe-ready groove with organ, keys, harmonica, guitar all twisting around with the bass and drums. Sitar and vocal harmonies give the shorter-at-six-minutes “Strawberry Girl” a ’60s psych-pop sunshine, but the undercurrent is consistent with the two songs before as Heath highlight the shroomier side of their pastoralism, ahead of side B capper “Valley of the Sun” transitioning out of that momentary soundscape with clear-eyed guitar and flute leading to an angular progression grounded by snare and a guitar solo after the verse that leads the shift into the final build. They’re not done, of course, as they bring it all to a rousing end and some leftover noise; subdued in the actual-departing, but still resonant in momentum and potential. These guys might just be onto something.
The Cosmic Dead, releasing through Heavy Psych Sounds, count Infinite Peaks as their ninth LP since 2011. I’ll take them at their word since between live offerings, splits, collections and whatnot, it’s hard sometimes to know what’s an album. Similarly, when immersed in the 23-minute cosmic sprawl of “Navigator #9,” it can become difficult to understand where you stop and the universe around you begins. Rising quickly to a steady, organ-inclusive roll, the Glaswegian instrumental psilocybinists conjure depth like few of their jam-prone ilk and remain entrancing as “Navigator #9” shifts into its more languid, less-consuming middle movement ahead of the resurgent finish. Over on side B, “Space Mountain” (20:02) is a bit more drastic in the ends it swaps between — a little noisier and faster up front, followed by a zazzy-jazzy push with fiddle and effects giving over to start-stop bass and due urgency in the drums complemented by fuzz like they just got in a room and this happened before the skronky apex and unearthly comedown resolve in a final stretch of drone. Ninth record or 15th, whatever. Their mastery of interstellar heavy exploration is palpable regardless of time, place or circumstance. Infinite Peaks glimpses at that dimensional makeup.
Perhaps telegraphing some of their second long-player’s darker intentions in the cover art and the title Nyctophilia — a condition whereby you’re happier and more comfortable in darkness — if not the choice of Max Norman (Ozzy Osbourne, Death Angel, etc.) to produce, San Francisco’s The Watchers are nonetheless a heavy rock and roll band. What’s shifted in relation to their 2018 debut, Black Abyss (review here), is the angle of approach they take in getting there. What hasn’t changed is the strength of songwriting at their foundation or the hitting-all-their-marks professionalism of their execution, whether it’s Tim Narducci bringing a classic reach to the vocals of “Garden Tomb” or the precise muting in his and Jeremy Von Epp‘s guitars and Chris Lombardo‘s bass on “Haunt You When I’m Dead” and Nick Benigno‘s declarative kickdrum stomping through the shred of “They Have No God.” The material lands harder without giving up its capital-‘h’ Heavy, which is an accomplishment in itself, but The Watchers set a high standard last time out and Nyctophilia lives up to that while pursuing its own semi-divergent ends.
Leipzig’s Juke Cove follow a progressive course across eight songs and 44 minutes of Tempest, between nodding riffs of marked density and varying degrees of immediacy, whether it’s the might-just-turn-around-on-you “Hypnosis” early on or the shove with which the duly brief penultimate piece “Burst” takes off after the weighted crash of and ending stoner-rock janga-janga riff of “Glow” and precedes the also-massive “Xanadu” in the closing position, capping with a fuzzy solo because why not. From opener “The Path” into the bombast of “Hypnosis” and the look-what-we-can-make-riffs-do “Wait,” the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Mateusz Pietrzela, bassist/vocalist Dima Ogorodnov and drummer Maxim Balobin mine aural individualism from familiar-enough genre elements, shaping material of character that benefits from the scope wrought in tone and production. Much to its credit, Tempest feels unforced in speaking to various sides of its persona, and no matter where a given song might go — the watery finish of “Wait” or the space-blues drift that emerges out of psych-leaning noise rock on “Confined,” for example — Juke Cove steer with care and heart alike and are all the more able to bring their audience with them as a result. Very cool, and no, I’m not calling them pricks when I say that.
A little more than a year out from their impressive self-titled debut LP (review here), Philly three-piece Laurel Canyon — guitarist/bassist/vocalist Nicholas Gillespie, guitarist/vocalist Serg Cereja, drummer Dylan DePice — offer the East Side three-songer to follow-up on the weighted proto-grunge vibes therein. “East Side” itself, at two and a half minutes, is a little more punk in that as it aligns for a forward push in the chorus between its swaggering verses, while “Garden of Eden” is more directly Nirvana-schooled in making its well-crafted melody sound like something that just tumbled out of somebody’s mouth, pure happenstance, and “Untitled” gets more aggressive in its second half, topping a momentary slowdown/nod with shouts before they let it fall apart at the end. This procession takes place in under 10 minutes and by the time you feel like you’ve got a handle on it, they’re done, which is probably how it should be. East Side isn’t Laurel Canyon‘s first short release, and they’re clearly comfortable in the format, bolstering the in-your-face-itude of their style with a get-in-and-get-out ethic correspondingly righteous in its rawness.
If you hadn’t yet come around to thinking of Poland among Europe’s prime underground hotspots, Tet offer their four-song/45-minute self-titled debut for your (re-)consideration. With its lyrics and titles in Polish, Tet draws on the modern heavy prog influence of Elder in some of the 12-minute opener/longest track (immediate points), “Srebro i antracyt,” but neither that nor “Dom w cieniu gruszy,” which follows, stays entirely in one place for the duration, and the lush melody that coincides with the unfolding of “Wiosna” is Tet‘s own in more than just language; that is to say, there’s more to distinguish them from their influences than the syllabic. Each inclusion adds complexity to the story their songs are telling, and as closer “Włóczykije” gradually moves from its dronescape by bringing in the drums unveiling the instrumentalist build already underway, Tet carve a niche for themselves in one of the continent’s most crowded scenes. I wonder if they’ve opened for Weedpecker. They could. Or Belzebong, for that matter. Either way, it will be worth looking out for how they expand on these ideas next time around.
Aidan Baker, Everything is Like Always Until it is Not
Aidan Baker, also of Nadja, aligns the eight pieces of what I think is still his newest outing — oh wait, nope; this came out in Feb. and in March he had an hour-long drone two-songer out; go figure/glad I checked — to represent the truism of the title Everything is Like Always Until it is Not, and arranges the tracks so that the earlier post-shoegaze in “Everything” or “Like” can be a preface for the more directly drone-based “It” “Is” later on. And yes, there are two songs called “Is.” Does it matter? Definitely not while Baker‘s evocations are actually being heard. Free-jazz drums — not generally known for a grounding effect — do some work in terms of giving all the float that surrounds them a terrestrial aspect, but if you know Baker‘s work either through his solo stuff, Nadja or sundry other collaborations, I probably don’t need to tell you that the 47 minutes of Everything is Like Always Until it is Not fall into the “not like always” category as a defining feature, whether it’s “Until” manifesting tonal heft in waves of static cut through by tom-to-snare-to-cymbal splashes or “Not” seeming unwilling to give itself over to its own flow. I imagine a certain restlessness is how Aidan Baker‘s music happens in the first place. You get smaller encapsulations of that here, if not more traditional accessibility.
Based in the arguable capitol of the Doom Capitol region — Frederick, Maryland — the three-piece Trap Ratt arrive in superbly raw style with the four-song/33-minute Tribus Rattus Mortuus, the last of which, aptly-titled “IV,” features Tim Otis (High Noon Kahuna, Admiral Browning, etc.), who also mixed and mastered, guesting on noise while Charlie Chaplin’s soliloquy from 1940’s The Dictator takes the place of the tortured barebones shouts that accompany the plod of 13-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “The Sacred Skunk,” seemingly whenever they feel like it. That includes the chugging part before the feedback gets caustic near the song’s end, by the way. “Thieving From the Grieving” — which may or may not have been made up on the spot — repurposes Stooges-style riffing as the foundation for its own decay into noise, and if from anything I’ve said so far about the album you might expect “Take the Gun” to not be accordingly harsh, Trap Ratt have a word and eight minutes of disaffected exploration they’d like to share with you. It’s not every record you could say benefits aesthetically from being recorded live in the band’s rehearsal space, but yes, Tribus Rattus Mortuus most definitely does.
Alright, back at it. Putting together yesterday over the weekend was more scattershot than I’d prefer, but one might say the same of parenting in general, so I’ll leave it at that. Still, as happens with Quarterly Reviews, we got there. That my wife gave me an extra 40 minutes to bang out the Wizzerd video premiere was appreciated. As always, she makes everything possible.
Compared to some QRs, there are a few ‘bigger’ releases here. You’ll note High on Fire leading off today. That trend will continue over this and next week with the likes of Pallbearer, Uncle Acid, Bongripper, Harvestman (Steve Von Till, ex-Neurosis), Inter Arma, Saturnalia Temple spread throughout. The Pelican two-songer and My Dying Bride back to back a week from today. That’ll be a fun one. As always, it’s about the time crunch for me for what goes in the Quarterly Review. Things I want to cover before it’s too late that I can fit here. Ain’t nobody holding their breath for my opinion on any of it, or on anything generally for that matter, but I’m not trying to slight well known bands by stuffing them into what when it started over a decade ago I thought would be a catchall for demos and EPs. Sometimes I like the challenge of a shorter word count, too.
And I remind myself here again nobody really cares. Fine, let’s go.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
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High on Fire, Cometh the Storm
What seems at first to be business as usual for High on Fire‘s fourth album produced by Kurt Ballou, fifth for MNRK Heavy (formerly E1), and ninth overall, gradually reveals itself to be the band’s tonally heaviest work in at least the last 15 years. What’s actually new is drummer Coady Willis (Big Business, Melvins) making his first studio appearance alongside founding guitarist/vocalist Matt Pike (Sleep, Pike vs. the Automaton) and long-tenured bassist/backing vocalist Jeff Matz (also saz on the instrumental interlude-plus “Karanlik Yol”), and for sure Willis‘ thud in “Trismegistus,” galloping intensity in the thrashy and angular “The Beating” and declarative stomp beneath the big slowdown of 10-minute closer “Darker Fleece” is part of it, but from the way Pike and Matz bring “Cometh the Storm’ and “Sol’s Golden Curse” in the record’s middle to such cacophonous ends, the three-and-a-half-minute face-kick that is “Lightning Beard” and the suckerpunch that starts off with “Lambsbread,” to how even the more vocally melodic “Hunting Shadows” is carried on a wave of filthy, hard-landing distortion, their ferocity is reaffirmed in thicker grooves and unmitigated pummel. While in some ways this is what one would expect, it’s also everything for which one might hope from High on Fire a quarter-century on from their first demo. Triumph.
A release concurrent to a remastered edition of their 2016 debut, Lemanis (review here), only puts into emphasis how much Spaceslug have come into their own over eight productive years. Recorded by drummer/vocalist Kamil Ziółkowski (also Mountain of Misery), with guitarist/vocalist Bartosz Janik and bassist/vocalist Jan Rutka dug into familiar tonal textures throughout five tracks and a quick but inevitably full-length-flowing 32 minutes, Out of Water is both otherworldly and emotionally evocative in the rollout of “Arise the Sun” following the intertwined shouts of opener “Tears of Antimatter,” and in keeping with their progression, they nudge toward metallic aggression as a way to solidify their heavy psychedelic aspects. “Out of Water” is duly mournful to encapsulate such a tragic notion, and the nod of “Delusions” only grows more forcefully applied after the return from that song’s atmospheric break, and while they depart with “In Serenity” to what feels like the escapism of sunnier riffing, even that becomes more urgent toward the album’s finish. The reason it works is they’re bending genre to their songs, not the other way around, and as Spaceslug mature as a group, they’ve become one of Poland’s most essential heavy acts.
First issued on CD through JM Records in 2023, Lie Heavy‘s debut album, Burn to the Moon, sees broader release through Heavy Psych Sounds with revamped art to complement the Raleigh, North Carolina, four-piece’s tonal heft and classic reach in pieces like “In the Shadow” and “The Long March,” respectively. The band is fronted by Karl Agell (vocalist for C.O.C.‘s 1991 Blind album and now also in The Skull-offshoot Legions of Doom), and across the 12-song/51-minute run, and whether it’s the crunch of the ripper “When the Universe Cries” or the Clutch-style heavy funk of “Chunkadelic” pushing further from the start-stops of “In the Shadow” or the layered crescendo of “Unbeliever” a short time later, he and bassist/vocalist TR Gwynne, guitarist/vocalist Graham Fry and drummer/vocalist Jeff “JD” Dennis deliver sans-pretense riff-led fare. They’re not trying to fix what wasn’t broken in the ’90s, to be sure, but you can’t really call it a retread either as they swing through “Drag the World” and its capstone counterpart “End the World”; it all goes back to Black Sabbath anyway. The converted will get it no problem.
Dublin, Ireland, trio Burning Realm mark their first release with the four-song Face the Fire EP, taking the cosmic-tinged restlessness of Wild Rocket and setting it alongside more grounded riffing, hinting at thrash in the ping ride on “From Beyond” but careening in the modern mode either way. Lead cut “Homosapien” gives Hawkwindian vibes early — the trap, which is sounding like Slift, is largely avoided, though King Gizzard may still be relevant as an influence — but smoothly gives over to acoustics and vocal drone once its urgency has bene vaporized, and spacious as the vocal echo is, “Face the Fire” is classic stoner roll even into its speedier ending, the momentum of which is continued in closer “Warped One (Arise),” which is more charged on the whole in a way that feels linear and intended in relation to what’s put before it. A 16-minute self-released introduction to who Burning Realm are now, it holds promise for how they might develop stylistically and grow in terms of range. Whatever comes or doesn’t, it’s easy enough to dig as it is. If you were at a show and someone handed you the tape, you’d be stoked once you put it on in the car. Also it’s like 1995 in that scenario, apparently.
Offered through an international consortium of record labels that includes Crême Brûlée Records in the band’s native France, Echodelick in the US, Clostridium in Germany and Weird Beard in the UK, French heavy psych thrusters Kalac‘s inaugural full-length, Odyssée — also stylized all-caps — doesn’t leave much to wonder why so many imprints might want some for the distro. With a focus on rhythmic movement in the we-gotta-get-to-space-like-five-minutes-ago modus of current-day heavy neo-space-rock, the mostly instrumental procession hypnotizes even as it peppers its expanses with verses here or there. That might be most effectively wrought in the payoff noiseblaster wash of “II,” which I’m just going to assume opens side B, but the boogie quotient is strong from “Arguenon” to “Beautiful Night,” and while might ring familiar to others operating in the aesthetic galaxial quadrant, the energy of Kalac‘s delivery and the not-haphazard-but-not-always-in-the-same-spot-either placement of the vocals are enough to distinguish them and make the six-tracker as exciting to hear as it sounds like it probably was to record.
The live-tracked fourth outing from Helsinki psych improvisationalists Alkuräjähdys, the lowercase-stylized ehdot. blends mechanical and electronic sounds with more organic psychedelic jamming, the synth and bassier punchthrough in the midsection of opening piece “.matriisi” indeed evocative of the dot-matrix printer to which its title is in reference, while “központ,” which follows, meanders into a broader swath of guitar-based noise atop a languidly graceful roll of drums. That let’s-try-it-slower ideology is manifest in the first half of the duly two-sided “a-b” as well, as the 12-minute finale begins by lurching through the denser distortion of a central riff en route to a skronk-jazz transition to a tighter midtempo groove that I’ll compare to Endless Boogie and very much intend that as a compliment. I don’t think they’re out to change the world so much as get in a room, hit it and see where the whole thing ends up, but those are noble creative aims in concept and practice, and between the two guitars, effects, synth and whathaveyou, there’s plenty of weird to go around.
Already a significant undertaking as a 95-minute 2LP running 11 tracks themed — as the title(s) would hint — around tarot cards, the mostly serene sprawl of Magick Brother & Mystic Sister‘s Tarot Pt. 1 is still just the first of two companion albums to be issued as the follow-up to the Barcelona outfit’s 2020 self-titled debut (discussed here). Offered through respected Greek purveyor Sound Effect Records, Tarot Pt. 1 gives breadth beyond just the runtime in the sitar-laced psych-funk of “The Hierophant” (swap sitar for organ, synth and flute on “The Chariot”) and the classic-prog pastoralia of closer “The Wheel of Fortune,” and as with the plague-era debut, at the heart of the material is a soothing acid folk, and while the keys in the first half of “The Emperor” grow insistent and there’s some foreboding in the early Mellotron and key lines of “The Lovers,” Tarot Pt. 1 resonates comfort and care in its arrangements as well as ambition in its scope. Maybe another hour and a half on the way? Sign me up.
The eight-year distance from their 2016 debut long-player, Little Cliffs, seems to have smoothed out some (not all, which isn’t a complaint) of the rough edges in Amigo‘s sound, as the seemingly reinvigorated San Diego four-piece of lead guitarist/vocalist Jeff Podeszwik (King Chiefs), guitarist Anthony Mattos, bassist Sufi Karalen and drummer Anthony Alley offer five song across an accessible, straightforward 17 minutes united beneath the fair-enough title of Good Time Island. Without losing the weight of their tones, a Weezery pop sensibility comes through in “Dope Den” while “Frog Face” is even more specifically indebted to The Cars. Neither “Telescope Boy” nor “Banana Phone” lacks punch, but Amigo hold some in reserve for “Me and Soof,” which rounds out the proceedings, and they put it to solid use for an approach that’s ’90s-informed without that necessarily meaning stoner, grunge or alt, and envision a commercially relevant, songwriting-based heavy rock and roll for an alternate universe that, by all accounts here, sounds like a decent place to be.
Culminating in the Sabbathian shuffle of “Eye for an Eye,” Wild Fever is the hook-drenched third full-length from Montreal fuzzbringers The Hazytones, and while they’ve still got the ‘tones’ part down pat, it’s easy to argue the eight included tracks are the least ‘hazy’ they’ve been to-date. Following on from the direction of 2018’s II: Monarchs of Oblivion (review here), the Esben Willems-mixed/Kent Stump-mastered 40-minute long-player isn’t shy about leaning into the grittier side of what they do as the opening title-track rolls out a chorus that reminds of C.O.C. circa In the Arms of God while retaining some of the melody between the vocals of Mick Martel (also guitar and keys) and Gabriel Prieur (also drums and bass), and with the correspondingly thick bass of Caleb Sanders for accompaniment and lead guitarist John Choffel‘s solo rising out of the murk on “Disease,” honing in on the brashness suits them well. Not where one might have expected them to end up six years later, but no less enjoyable for that, either.
God damn that’s harsh. Mostly anonymous industrialists — you get F and N for names and that’s it — All Are to Return are all the more punishing in the horrific recesses and engulfing blasts of static that populate III than they were in 2022’s II (review here), and the fact that the eight-songer is only 32 minutes long is about as close as they come to any concept of mercy for the psyche of their audience. Beyond that, “Moratorium,” “Colony Collapse,” the eats-you-dead “Archive of the Sky” and even the droning “Legacy” cast a willfully wretched extremity, and what might be a humanizing presence of vocals elsewhere is screams channeled through so much distortion as to be barely recognizable as coming from a human throat here. If the question being posed is, “how much can you take?,” the answer for most of those brave enough to even give III a shot will be, “markedly less than this.” A cry from the depths realizing a brutal vision.
