Posted in Whathaveyou on January 6th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
South African heavy rockers Ruff Majik walked away last May, alluding to concerns of mental health and the drain/drag of being in a band trying to engage an audience. No, they didn’t use those words. Their return with a new single, which features Ben from Slomosa and apparently a slew of others from the South African underground on vocals, expressing a collective point of view of those left behind by suicide. The chorus, “May valkyries carry you home,” is duly stirring, and all the more effective for the group voice delivering it. Ruff Majik always had a good sense of production adding to their material.
The band’s last album, late 2024’s Moth Eater (review here), stepped forward from 2023’s Elektrik Ram (review here) but was perhaps too much too soon as the band’s manic pace of touring and releasing led to their unwinding, even if just for a time. There’s talk of restraint in the PR wire info below, but you’ll find the track has plenty of let-loose behind its push, and while it’s not the first time Ruff Majik have purposefully directed themselves toward the anthemic, they’re going for community resonance here, and the track is affecting. More so when you read the lyrics on the Bandcamp page.
Surprise this morning from the PR wire:
A new chapter begins for Ruff Majik with the release of latest single Can Of Wyrms
South African heavy rock outfit Ruff Majik return with Can Of Wyrms, a stark and emotionally unguarded single that confronts suicide from the perspective of those left behind.
Rather than romanticizing loss or framing it through spectacle, Can Of Wyrms documents grief as an ongoing presence — unresolved, heavy, and communal. The song was written years ago, but only now finds its moment, arriving as the band re-emerge after a period marked by silence, distance, and personal reckoning.
Frontman Johni Holiday has previously spoken openly about PTSD, agoraphobia, and cycles of dependency formed while touring — struggles that ultimately led to Ruff Majik stepping away before the weight became fatal. That pause, and the clarity it forced, directly informs the song’s restraint. Can Of Wyrms does not seek answers. It acknowledges absence, as well as the battle waged by those in the thick of it.
Musically, the track balances Ruff Majik’s stoner-punk urgency with a raw yet anthemic vulnerability. Gang vocals — recorded with friends and members of the South African underground music community — form the emotional core of the song, reinforcing its central idea: this grief is shared, not isolated.
The single also features guest vocals by Ben from Slomosa, adding a further layer of communal voice and international solidarity to a deeply personal release.
All proceeds from Can Of Wyrms, including associated merchandise, will be directed toward mental-health support initiatives.
The release coincides with Ruff Majik’s first live performance (31 January, Pretoria, South Africa) , since their hiatus — not framed as a victory lap, but as a statement of intent. In the band’s own words: “There is work to be done.”
Can Of Wyrms is not a eulogy. It is a warning, a remembrance, and a refusal to buckle under the pressures of the world.
This single is currently available on BandCamp only, and will be released on all other platforms on 16 January 2026. The band will take no requests for press until the first phase is complete.
Special crowd vocal features from Delilah LaVey, Shinesh Rambali, Danny Ylang, Jess Anderson, Matthew Nijland, Wilco Meyer, Estian Smith, Jimmy Glass, Brendon Bez, Lars Key, Kayleigh Mocke, Ahreev Govender, Zuanre Voges, Lumar Schutte
Ruff Majik are: Johni Holiday (vocals & guitar) Cowboy Bez (guitar & vocals) Jimmy Glass (bass) Steven Bosman (drums)
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 27th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Admittedly, I’m not getting “band is done forever” vibes off Ruff Majik‘s somewhat vague breakup post. Some bands lay it all out — this is what happened, who what where when, etc. — but Ruff Majik founding guitarist/vocalist Johni Holiday is lighter on details: “…I want to live. I want to survive whatever this is. I want to feel, without bleeding for it.”
Mental health has been at play for Ruff Majik all the while, sometimes with emphasis on ‘play.’ Their two most recent albums, last Fall’s Moth Eater (review here) and 2023’s Elektrik Ram (review here), certainly put the theme forward, and chaos has been a friend of the South African rockers for the last decade. If you shake hard enough, eventually the wheels are going to come off. If they need to stop before that happens, it’s a commendable thing that they’re stopping.
But there’s no “done forever” here. The word ‘hiatus’ isn’t used, and Holiday is one to choose words carefully if you’ve ever read his lyrics, but it’s pretty clear he and Ruff Majik aren’t disappearing forever so much as stepping back and sorting out what they feel like needs sorting. Holiday, joined in the band by bassist/sometimes-vocalist Jimmy Glass, guitarist/sometimes-vocalist Cowboy Bez and drummer Steven Bosman, recently opened a venue, Sowaar Bar, in Pretoria, and surely that’s going to eat up some of your available-otherwise-for-anything hours. And between that, life, and the state of the world, taking care of yourself can sometimes require radical action. Ruff Majik were never strangers to being rad.
I included a couple links above. I could’ve included more. Going back to their early EPs, Ruff Majik‘s brash, attitude-laced and readily transgressive desert-heavy rock undertook a special, distinctive and honest progression. Whether that’s all the way done or not — and if we’re placing bets, I’m going with “not” — if it’s done for now, that’s an ending worth marking on the way to whatever the future might bring, even if that’s nothing.
Either way, I’m really, really glad I got to see this band the one time I did. Here’s looking forward to the next one.
From social media:
2015 – ♾️
For years now I’ve been pushing through grief, exhaustion, heartbreak, sickness, and occasional self-sabotage. Now, for the sake of myself, I need to stop.
I don’t know what happens next — and I think that’s okay.
What I do know is that I want to live. I want to survive whatever this is. I want to feel, without bleeding for it.
We’ll see each other again somewhere in a dimly lit dive bar. We’ll sing together again. Until then, thank you for everything.
— Johni Holiday
Ruff Majik are: Johni Holiday (vocals & guitar) Cowboy Bez (guitar & vocals) Jimmy Glass (bass) Steven Bosman (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 19th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
There’s not exactly a mountain of information to go on, but there is a mountain’s worth of volume packed into Acid Magus‘ new single — see what I did there? — “Emperor,” which is a herald of their third full-length to come. Though it is particularly satisfying in its largesse and melodic reach, progressivism and raw, heavy impact aligning comfortably side-by-side in their sound, “Emperor” follows behind “Wytch” (posted here), which came out this past August. There’s one more track to be unveiled from the apparently-not-that-impending long-player, which will be the follow-up to 2023’s Hope is Heavy (review here), but to keep centered in the moment, “Emperor” offers plenty to chew on in the meantime.
Even more than “Wytch,” it speaks to the growth of the band’s songwriting and aspirations toward spaciousness in the production. They float and crush in kind. I don’t know the release date for the album — next single early 2025, LP sometime thereafter, preferably sooner than later? — or even when the last song to advance it will drop, but “Emperor” is a reminder of why I look forward to hearing both.
To the PR wire, then:
Acid Magus Drops Explosive New Single Emperor from Upcoming Album
Emerging from the shadows of Pretoria’s rock scene, Acid Magus unleash Emperor, the fiery second single from their upcoming album. Known for their intoxicating blend of doom, stoner, punk, and psych rock, Acid Magus has crafted a track that is both an intense journey into sound and a searing exploration of power’s dark allure.
In a swirl of distorted guitars, heavy riffs, and hypnotic rhythms, Emperor introduces the album’s central antagonist—a power-hungry overlord who thrives on destruction. As a metaphor for colonialism and the erasure of culture, the Emperor embodies raw, destructive ambition. The track invites listeners to confront the brutality of conquest, with haunting lyrics that echo the relentless drive for control. Acid Magus’s characteristic musical grit and psychedelic edge deliver a visceral experience, drawing inspiration from the likes of Mastodon, Kylesa, and Baroness, all while infusing their signature South African flair.
Emperor is also the shortest track on the upcoming album, offering a potent glimpse into the broader narrative Acid Magus has woven. With epic vocal cries and spine-chilling drops into sonic oblivion, the song encapsulates the wild thoughts of the loathsome Emperor himself, pulling listeners deeper into his tortured psyche. Acid Magus’s commitment to a raw, DIY approach comes through in every heavy beat and spiraling riff, creating a sound that’s both timeless and immediately captivating.
“We wanted to capture the Emperor’s madness and the absolute corruption of power,” the band shares. “This song channels the darkness in humanity that few dare to confront. Psychosis never sounded this good.”
Fans of Zeppelin, Sabbath, and the heavy psychedelia of modern bands like Slift will recognize Acid Magus’s reverence for rock’s legends, while newcomers to the genre will find themselves immersed in a hypnotic mix of styles, from 60s psych to alt-rock intensity.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 30th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I think maybe Acid Magus are just going to be one of those bands where every record does something different. That’s nothing to complain about, of course, but as they look to follow 2023’s Hope is Heavy (review here) with an impending third full-length, the conversation once again changes in terms of where they’re coming from. They’re not doing black metal like all of a sudden the psychedelia is gone and they’re playing Satyricon tunes or some such, but there is an extreme element to the atmosphere, if one accompanied by a rampant, growing melodic reach.
The underlying point there is that Acid Magus are getting harder, not easier, to predict with time, and that seems to be a purposeful thing. That their songwriting remains engaging while they consistently explore various sides of their persona in sound is, well, it’s fortunate for the listener taking them on, for sure, but it’s emblematic of the band’s priority on craft, which to-date has been a unifying factor. In the case of “Wytch,” vibe is a big part of it over that solid foundation, and it further marks the debut in the band of new drummer Jethro Vlag, who wins names to a degree that is likewise rare and admirable.
No release date or title or other details yet, so for all I know the record isn’t done yet, but here’s the announcement for the single, fresh off the PR wire:
ACID MAGUS UNVEILS “WYTCH” – FIRST SINGLE FROM UPCOMING THIRD STUDIO ALBUM
Prepare to descend into the depths of sonic chaos and transcendence as Pretoria’s very own Acid Magus releases their latest single, Wytch, from their eagerly anticipated third studio album out via Mongrel Records. Known for their self-proclaimed “garage doom on shrooms” sound, the band takes listeners on an intense journey that blends the psychedelic energy of psych rock with the crushing weight of doom metal.
Wytch marks the introduction of the protagonist in what promises to be a compelling concept album. This track sets the stage for a narrative steeped in corruption, loss, and the indomitable strength of community. The rise of an empire and the birth of an unlikely people’s champion are explored through haunting melodies, frenetic rhythms, and the band’s signature doom-laden riffs.
For the first time in their discography, Acid Magus delves into the dark, abrasive world of black metal, adding a new layer of intensity to their already formidable sound. The inclusion of new drummer Jethro Vlag has brought a fresh dynamic to the band, with his prowess behind the kit elevating the music to new heights. Vlag’s contributions shine throughout Wytch, capturing a sound that oscillates between frenetic energy, simple beauty, and bone-crushing weight.
Acid Magus’ upcoming album is shaping up to be their most ambitious project yet. While details of the full album remain under wraps, Wytch offers a tantalizing glimpse into what fans can expect— an aural exploration of epic proportions that pushes the boundaries of what doom metal can be.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 2nd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
“Neon Bloodstains” is the latest single from Pretoria-based aggro-type heavy rockers Crash and the Void, and as noted above, below and sideways, it features a guest collaboration with Johni Holiday of South African heavy forerunners Ruff Majik. Suitably laced with attitude and attention-grabbing fuckall, shove and tumult, it’s a banger in the sense of a brick banging into your face, and another precursor to Crash and the Void‘s self-titled debut album, which as I understand it is hopefully to see release before the end of the year through Mongrel Records.
I don’t have particulars on the record yet — if it does end up being December and not early in 2025, there’s still plenty of time for other press releases — but where previous singles like “The Villain” and “Shadow Fiend” fostered an edge of nü-metallic groove in conjuction with the heft of tone and chaotic thrust one hears here, “Neon Bloodstains” sources its sensory overload specifically from the world of gaming, which I think makes sense when you hear how purposefully ferocious it is.
The PR wire has details and the video:
Crash And The Void Unleashes New Single Neon Bloodstains Featuring Johni Holiday of Ruff Majik
Pretoria’s own Crash And The Void is back and bolder than ever with their new single Neon Bloodstains out today via Mongrel Records, featuring guest vocals from Johni Holiday of Ruff Majik. Inspired by the intense and competitive world of the video game Cyberpunk 2077, the band crafted a song that mirrors the violence and drive required to succeed in the music industry. “I feel like the violence and competitive nature found in the game, which I played extensively, was a good parallel to the music industry and how you need to carve your way to success,” says Marius Schutte, the band’s vocalist and primary songwriter. The track’s message is clear: stand your ground, don’t sell yourself short, and be realistic about the monumental task ahead when striving for success.
This self-produced song showcases the collaborative spirit of Crash And The Void. Initially entered into a competition to be featured in Cyberpunk 2077, the song evolved beyond its original form. The final doom breakdown, a highlight of the track, was a collective effort created during a rehearsal. The original demo, solely created by Marius Schutte, didn’t include this breakdown due to competition restrictions. Marius’s love for soundtracks and ludomusicology is evident, with the song’s opening lead line being a heavily distorted synthesizer inspired by Mick Gordon’s work on the DOOM soundtrack.
True to their innovative spirit, the band members recorded their parts in their home studios, with Marius programming the drums. This DIY approach not only highlights their versatility but also their commitment to producing high-quality music.
Posted in Questionnaire on October 9th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Roelof Van Tonder of Acid Magus
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
Simply put, I’m an aspiring musician, heavy emphasis on aspiring. I’ve always been in love and obsessed with music and I’ve dabbled here and there but never committed fully. I fucked around a lot in my early years, had way too much fun (if you know what I mean) and I also thought being like the musicians I admired wasn’t attainable for me. During lockdown I lost my job, and some other stuff happened that threw me into a deep depression. Music is what got me out of bed, practicing for hours every day gave me a sense of purpose and achievement that got me through a really tough time. My friend Keenan started a new project, and was in need of a drummer. I said fuck it and threw in my lot although I could barely play a single song. I realized how happy playing music made me and I should take this chance. I don’t think Keenan imagined anything to come from it at that point, but I was hell bent on proving myself. Many hours of practice, often without a working drum kit I managed to get to a point where my playing was passable. Since then I’ve moved to bass, it was another instrument I had which I could play when I didn’t have a drum kit, and I ‘ve just focused on getting this project to be successful. What I do is very much what is required at the moment, be it play a different instrument, do social media, organize shows or fill in a questionnaire. My journey is my own and I find that pretty cool now.
Describe your first musical memory.
Well… there’s many but one that I’ll never forget is listening to my dad’s Chris de Burgh CD, Spanish Train. The title track if you don’t know is a story of God and the Devil playing a game of cards for the souls of dead, on a train to the afterlife. The combination of storytelling, philosophy and music was just the coolest. I listened to that song many times, sometimes singing along other times thinking about life. I was a very broody child if you can tell!
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Frist show I played with Acid Magus on drums. We all played well, and it was just simply exhilarating! Felt like I was leading a charge into battle, hacked my way through some songs and it was over. Pure bliss!
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
The depression I went through during lockdown had me reevaluating life, it really confronted me with a lot of my beliefs of what a worthy life is and what a successful future looks like.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Art and expression usually are synonymous, and I agree but really dedicating yourself to an instrument, craft or art requires a shit ton of discipline in many aspects of your life not only the time spent practicing. To be able to express yourself effectively, honestly and with confidence you need to get a lot of things right outside of your craft, and you need to find balance and purpose in your daily life. So I think artistic progression stems from the full spectrum of life, knowledge, relationships, philosophy, experiences, and honest hard work. Seeking your inner voice and expressing it is good and all, but I think we overemphasize creativity and art. Life imitates art as they say so stop trying so hard and just live. I say this like I do it with ease, but it’s hard trust me!
How do you define success?
Being able to pivot and do what you desire without having to worry about what you’re leaving behind. And simply, being worthy of happiness, emphasizing appreciation. If you can do that every day, you’re a success.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
It’s morbid but I saw my cat Charlie get run over by a car right in front my eyes. She was emotional crutch during lockdown, and got me through a really tough time.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I study history, and I think anyone who has read about South Africa’s early frontier history would agree it’s just waiting to be told in a spaghetti western style movie. My sisters are in the film industry, check out Acid Magus’ music videos for some of their work, and I’ve always wanted to write a historically accurate, narrative script set in South Africa’s frontier and make a movie with them.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Catharsis and documentation or immortalizing memories. Not always to the degree of processing something heavy like trauma, or something official like painting a president’s portrait. It can be something simple like doodling when bored or taking a picture of a friend. We live life and find moments that need processing and art naturally lends itself to this, just as it documents these moments that are important to us. I often think of cave drawings in this sense. People painted what they held dear or had value, but also express tumultuous times or experiences that people should remember and learn from.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Getting old, I’m curious where life will take me and where the world will go.
Pretoria, South Africa’s Acid Magus released their second album, Hope is Heavy, through Mongrel Records in July as the follow-up to their 2021 debut Wyrd Syster (review here). The rolling, loosely hip-hop-informed “Dead Weight” is the third single from the six-track/43-minute long-player, preceded by “Caligulater” (posted here) and “Demon Behemoth” (posted here). Diverging from the band’s general methodology as it appears here, the penultimate cut features a guest appearance from Johni Holiday — whose band Ruff Majik released their excellent Elektrik Ram (review here) album earlier this year; you may have heard me drone on about how perfect it is — and wraps itself around the hook that begins with the line, “Twelve gauges to waste you,” and elephantine-fuzz marches through with due nod until the dreamy midsection, from whence it moves into a slower solo before rallying for a final chorus. Catchy, bouncing in its lumber-prone way, with Acid Magus vocalist Anrico Jeske reminding of Sasquatch during the verse with Holiday joining in effectively for the chorus and introducing the song.
Jeske is new to the band as of Hope is Heavy, as is guitarist/vocalist Brendon “Cowboy Bez” Bezuidenhout (also of Ruff Majik), who take the places respectively of former vocalist Christiaan Van Renen and nobody. Returning players Keenan Kinnear (guitar, songwriting), Jarryd Wood (bass) and Roelof van Tonder (drums on the album, now bass) are fairly consistent in tone and purpose from where Acid Magus was on Wyrd Syster, putting marked heft and fuzz behind heavy psychedelic liquidity with melody over top and an exploratory foundation. But there’s no question Acid Magus are a different band on Hope is Heavy, the title evoking a sense of ‘daring to hope,’ positing perhaps that it’s easier to be hopeless, whereas in order to have any kind of optimism for the future is harder work. I have little doubt this is true, and if you like heavy music named after heavy things, 10-minute LP closer “Trillion Tonne Sun” should satisfy nicely, but the change in the group is almost immediate as opener and previously mentioned single “Demon Behemoth” winds in on feedback and crashes to announce the arrival of its central riff and moves into its first verse.
Placed at the presumed end of side A, “Caligulater” gets a little rougher edged in its middle, but the melodic serenity of “Demon Behemoth” and the subsequent “Progeneration” — light touches of guitar there floating over the bassline and a chorus emerging that’s all the more a triumph because it stays slow — is maintained and a fluidity results as “Caligulater” picks up the tempo in seeming response to the song before it, keeping the airiness of guitar but setting it to swing along with the drums. Side B’s “A Planet, a Deathstar” is the shortest inclusion at 4:33, and it uses that time to begin a classic second-half-of-the-record expansion of style, with a spoken vocal over the early, resonant à laAll Them Witches, acoustic-inclusive, low-key galloping verse, and a groove that holds as the fuller-toned fuzz unveiled and the grittier voice returns, suitable to the pulses that punctuate the riff, fading out to let Holiday mark the arrival of “Dead Weight.” And there is no level on which Hope is Heavy‘s penultimate track isn’t play. It’s cheeky, its groove is downright arrogant and the Jeske/Holiday tradeoffs make it a party, even if the video is set in an office with a surprising amount of longhairs in lower management.
It’s a blowout, if a somewhat different kind than “Caligulater,” but ends up in a not entirely dissimilar place following its two-minute intro, shimmering with heavy prog tonality and filled out beneath by denser low-end fuzz, opening for the verse like older-school European heavy rock and touching on ’90s-style alternative, but Acid Magus are clearly aware they’re at the end, and after reaffirming the semi-psych liquidity of side A, they use the final chorus of “Trillon Tonne Sun” for a crescendo with an epilogue of quiet guitar bookending the start of the song. The last purposeful move on the album but by no means the first, Hope is Heavy would feel like a second debut if the band hadn’t put so much detail and depth into the recording. Setting a broad context for themselves, they introduce listeners to their new lineup with intentional creative reach and a sound and style more cohesive than it was two years ago, despite the personnel shifts. And in some ways subtle and some ways not, they put a focus on songwriting that, whether it’s “Dead Weight” or “Progeneration” or “Demon Behemoth,” produces memorable results.
They were a band with potential, and so they remain. They don’t at all sound like they’re done growing, but Hope is Heavy does benefit from lessons gleaned from Wyrd Syster, and in thinking about where they might go for a third long-player, one hopes nothing so much as that Acid Magus continue to develop on the path they’ve set for themselves. That would be the best-case scenario, and they seem to know it, having come into a make-or-break moment for the band with a collection of songs ready to answer the question in decisive fashion: make.
“Dead Weight” video premieres below. Hope is Heavy is out now. More info follows from the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Acid Magus, “Dead Weight (Feat. Johni Holiday)” video premiere
Get ready to be entranced by the dark, thought-provoking soundscape as South Africa’s own progressive doom virtuosos Acid Magus unleash their latest masterpiece — a riveting music video for their track Dead Weight from their critically acclaimed new album Hope Is Heavy out now on Mongrel Records. This release delves into the heart of modern popular culture’s relentless imitation game, challenging conventions and inviting viewers to question the status quo. To amplify the impact, the track features a captivating guest vocals appearance from none other than the esteemed frontman Johni Holiday from prominent South African stoner rock sensations Ruff Majik.
Johni takes on a dual role, gracing the track with his unmistakable voice while also embodying the main antagonist in the music video. In a stunning visual portrayal, he assumes the role of a vampire, reigning as a corporate overlord in a dystopian, cutthroat business environment.
Featuring 6 tracks, the album explores themes of existentialism, introspection, and the human condition. The band’s poetic lyrics delve into profound and introspective territories, inviting listeners to explore the depths of their own psyche.
“As time passed and I grew older, I found myself becoming depressed for no reason other than for the fact that I was becoming a bitter cynic. ‘Hope is Heavy’ is me trying to find that elusive light at the end of the ever present, gloomy tunnel.” – Keenan Kinnear, guitarist/songwriter.
Track Listing: 1. Demon Behemoth 2. Progeneration 3. Caligulater 4. A Planet, A Deathstar 5. Dead Weight (ft. Johni Holiday) 6. Trillion Tonne Sun
Line Up: Keenan Kinnear: guitar Jarryd Wood: bass guitar Roelof van Tonder: drums Anrico Jeske: vocals Brendon Bezuidenhout: guitar, vocals
