Posted in Whathaveyou on March 20th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
The first single from Crystal Spiders‘ upcoming third album Metanoia — they’re also three-for-three on one-word album titles that start with ‘m,’ so there — brings an intriguing sound and twist on the heavy vibes the trio has wrought before, flexible as that is between doom and classic heavy rock. As it happens, “Torche” speaks to both.
I’m pretty sure it’s not about the band Torche — you never know, I guess, but there’s no mention of it below if that’s the case and I’ve been through the songs a couple times and at no point does bassist/vocalist Brenna Leath seem to shout out Steve Brooks, rad as it might be if she did — but especially with the stark accompaniment of the video below, the song piques interest as to where Metanoia might go and how it might get there.
Info and side-of-your-boogie-van-worthy cover art came from the PR wire:
US heavy rock trio CRYSTAL SPIDERS unleash first track and video off upcoming new album “Metanoia”; out May 23rd on Ripple Music!
North Carolina’s fiercest hard’n’heavy rockers CRYSTAL SPIDERS return with their third full-length “Metanoia” on Ripple Music this May 23rd, and present the roaring “Torche” single and video.
Riding the tides of doom-laden riffs and intoxicating grooves, Crystal Spiders returns with their highly anticipated third album, “Metanoia” on Ripple Music. Known for their alchemical blend of heavy metal and psychedelic soundscapes, the North Carolina power trio delves deeper into the abyss, exploring themes of transcendentalism and expansion in a collection of gritty and beautiful tracks. On “Metanoia”, Crystal Spiders masterfully intertwines searing NWOBHM guitar solos, thunderous fuzzed-out basslines, and howling vocal harmonies.
The album’s title, derived from the ancient Greek word for a transformative change of heart, encapsulates a journey of transcending boundaries and venturing into uncharted territories while blending personal introspection and broader societal commentary into a dark, poetic and highly evocative imagery and lyricism. “Overall, “Metanoia” is a profound exploration of the human condition, using powerful imagery and introspective lyrics to invite listeners on a transformative journey. The song “Torche” sets the tone with its visceral depiction of a primal struggle, using fire and light as symbols of both conflict and illumination,” says bassist and vocalist Brenna Leath.
“Metanoia” will be issued on May 23rd in various LP formats, CD digipack and digital, with preorders available now from Ripple Music. It was produced at Volume 11 Studios by Mike Dean (Corrosion of Conformity) in Raleigh, NC, and mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege Mastering Studios. Artwork by Tyler Pennington and graphics by Mark Aceves.
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 3rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Granted it wasn’t the first time in Corrosion of Conformity‘s more than four decades that they did so, but it was a surprise nonetheless in September when the band bid farewell to founding bassist/vocalist Mike Dean, announcing they’d be continuing on with someone new. The someone has turned out to be Bobby Landgraf, who solidifies the lineup around guitarist/vocalist Pepper Keenan, guitarist/backing vocalist Woodroe Weatherman, and onstage drummer (I think it’s still) John Green.
The band didn’t make an announcement as such — it was the holidays, you know how it is — but Landgraf posted the photo-collage and brief confirmation on his socials. If you’re not familiar, his pedigree includes shenanigans-laced heavy rockers Honky, playing guitar alongside Keenan, fronting Snakes of Central Texas, teching for Pantera and a bunch of others, and so on. And of course, there’s video of him doing the thing filmed at Headbangers Boat a few weeks back (the photos below would seem to have originated there as well). It’s bootleg sound, but it’s also “Albatross,” so even if they weren’t showing off a revamped dynamic, really it’s its own excuse for being.
Last I heard, C.O.C. were still in-progress on the follow-up to their 2018 album, No Cross No Crown (review here), working with drummer Stanton Moore (who last appeared on the band’s 2005 outing, In the Arms of God) in the studio with Warren Riker producing. Videos go up periodically of this or that being recorded, but you wouldn’t accuse them of rushing it, and fair enough. No doubt the proceedings will be different without Dean there, but change is the order of the universe, so there you go.
2025 release? Surprise album and tour drop sometime in Spring? That’d rule. I, of course, know nothing. Ever. About anything. You get used to it after a while. A stupid kind of zen.
From socials:
Absolutely Thrilled to be in Corrosion of Conformity. Onwards and Upwards
Posted in Reviews on October 15th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I’ll be honest, I don’t even want to talk about how well this Quarterly Review is going because I worry about screwing it up. It’s always a lot of work to round up 10 records per day, even if there’s a single or and EP snuck in there, but it’s been a long time now that I’ve been doing things this way — sometimes as a means of keeping up, sometimes to herald things to come, usually just a way to write about things I want to write about regardless of timeliness — and it’s always worth it. I’ve had a couple genuinely easy days here. Easier than expected. Obviously that’s a win.
So while I wait for the other shoe to drop, let’s keep the momentum going.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
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Massive Hassle, Unreal Damage
Brotherly two-piece Massive Hassle, comprised of brothers Bill Fisher and Marty Fisher — who played together in Mammothwing and now both feature in Church of the Cosmic Skull — get down with another incredibly complex set of harmonized ’70s-style soul-groovers, nailing it as regards tone and tempo from the big riff that eats “Lost in the Changes” to the strums and croons early in the penultimate “Tenspot,” hitting a high note together in that song that gives over to stark and wistful standalone guitar meander that with barely a minute ago gorgeously becomes a bittersweet triumph of nostalgic fuzz reminiscent of Colour Haze‘s “Fire” and having the sheer unmitigated gall to tell the world around them it’s no big deal by naming the band Massive Hassle and stating that as the thing they most want to avoid. When they did Number One (review here) in 2023, it felt like they were proving the concept. With Unreal Damage, they’re quietly pushing limits.
Iress are the Los Angeles-based four-piece of Michelle Malley (vocals), Michael Maldonado (bass), Glenn Chu (drums) and Graham Walker (guitar). Sleep Now, In Reverse is their fourth full-length in nearly 15 years of existence. As a record, it accomplishes a lot of things, but what you need to understand is that where it most succeeds and stands itself out is in bringing together a heavy post-rock sound — heavygaze, as the kids don’t say because they don’t know what it is — with emotive expression on vocals, a blending of ethereal and the most human and affecting, and when Malley lets loose in the payoff of “Mercy,” it’s an early highlight with plenty more to follow. It’s not that Iress are reinventing genre — evolving, maybe? — but what they’re doing with it is an ideal unto itself, taking those aspects from across an aesthetic range and incorporating them into a whole, at times defiantly cohesive sound, lush but clearheaded front to back.
When the band put the shimmying “Apocalypse Babes” up as a standalone single last year, it was some five years after their debut full-length, 2018’s Mindtripper (review here) — though there was a split between — so not an insignificant amount of time for Norway’s Magmakammer to expand on their methods and dig into the songs. To be sure, “Doom Jive” and “Zimbardo” still have that big-hook, Uncle Acid-style dirty garage buzz that lends itself so well to cultish themes but thankfully here is about more than murder. And indeed, the band seems to have branched out a bit, and the eight-song/43-minute Before I Burn is well served by divergences like the closing “I Will Guide Your Hand” or the way “Cult of Misanthropy” sounds like a studio outtake on a bootleg from 1969 until they kick it open around a build of marching guitar, even as it stays loyal to Magmakammer‘s core stylistic purposes. A welcome return.
The kind of sludge rock Ohio’s Evel play, informed by Mondo Generator‘s druggy, volatile heavy punk and C.O.C.‘s Southern metal nod, maybe a bit of High on Fire in “Alaska,” with a particularly Midwestern disappointment-in-everything that would’ve gone over well at Emissions From the Monolith circa 2003, isn’t what’s trendy. It’s not the cool thing. It doesn’t care about that, or about this review, or about providing social media content to maximize its algorithmic exposure. I’m not knocking any of that — especially the review, which is going swimmingly; I promise a point is coming — but if Evel‘s six-songer debut EP, Omen, is a foretell of things to come, the intention behind it is more about the catharsis of the writing/performance than trying to play to ‘scene’-type expectations. It is a pissed-off fuckall around which the band — which features guitarist/vocalist Alex Perekrest, also of Red Giant — will continue to build as “Dust Angel” and the swinging “Dawn Patrol” already find them doing. The going will likely be noisy, and that’s just fine.
Some six years and one reunion after their fourth album, 2018’s The Lucky Ones (review here), Virginia-born classic heavy barnburners Satan’s Satyrs are back with a fifth collection beating around riffs from Sabbath and the primordial ooze of heavy that birthed them, duly brash and infectious in their energy. Founding bassist/vocalist Clayton Burgess and guitarist Jarrett Nettnin are joined in the new incarnation of the band by guitarist Morgan McDaniel (also Mirror Queen) and drummer Russ Yusuf — though Sean Saley has been with them for recent live shows — and as they strut and swing through “Saltair Burns” like Pentagram if they’d known how to play jazz but were still doom, or the buzzy demo-style experimentation of “Genuine Turquoise,” which I’m just going to guess came together differently than was first expected. So much the better. They’ve never been hugely innovative, but Satan’s Satyrs have consistently delivered at this point across a span of more than a decade and they have their own spin on the style. They may always be a live band, but at least in my mind, there’s not much more one would ask that After Dark doesn’t deliver.
Delivered through Kozmik Artifactz, Weight in Gold is the second long-player from Melbourne, Australia’s Whoopie Cat, and it meets the listener at the intersection of classic, ’70s-style heavy blues rock and prog. Making dynamic use of a dual-vocal approach in “Pretty Baby” after establishing tone, presence and craft as assets with the seven-minute opening title-track, the band are unflinchingly modern in production even as they lean toward vintage-style song construction, and that meld of intention results in an organic sound that’s not restricted by the recording. Plus it’s louder, which doesn’t hurt most of the time. In any case, as Whoopie Cat follow-up their 2018 debut, Illusion of Choice, they do so with distinction and the ability to convey a firm grasp on their songwriting and convey a depth of intention from the what-if-Queen-but-blues “Icarus” or the consuming Hammondery of closer “Oh My Love.” Listening, I can’t help but wonder how far into prog they might ultimately go, but they’ve found a sweetspot in these songs that’s between styles, and they fit right in it.
Cheeky, heavy garage punk surely will not be enough to save the immortal souls of Earth Tongue from all their devil worship and intricate vocal patterning. And honestly the New Zealand two-piece — I could’ve sworn I saw something about them moving to Germany, but maybe they just had a really good Berlin show? — sound fine with that. Guitarist Gussie Larkin and drummer Ezra Simons benefit from the straightforward outward nature of their songs. That is, “Out of This Hell,” “The Mirror,” “Bodies Dissolve Tonight!” and any of the other nine inclusions on the record that either were or could’ve been singles, are catchy and tightly written. They’re not overplayed or underplayed, and they have enough tonal force in Larkin‘s guitar that the harder churn of closer “The Reluctant Host” can leave its own impression and still feel fluid alongside some of Great Haunting‘s sweeter psych-punk. Wherever they live, the two-piece make toys out of pop and praise music so that even “Miraculous Death” sounds like, and is, fun.
The collection House of Pain (Demos) takes its title from the place where guitarist/vocalist Tomas Iramain recorded them alongside bassist Matias Maltratador and drummer Jorge Iramain, though whether it’s a studio, rehearsal space, or an actual house, I won’t profess to know. Tomas is the lone remaining member carried over from the band’s 2020 self-titled LP, and the other part of what you need to know about House of Pain (Demos) can also be found in the title: it’s demos. Do not expect a studio sound full of flourish and nuance. Reportedly most of the songs were tracked with two Shure SM57s (the standard vocal mic), save for “Nomad” and “The Way I Am,” I guess because one broke? The point is, as raw as they are — and they are raw — these demos want nothing for appeal. The bounce in the bonus-track-type “Mountain (Take 1)” feels like a Dead Meadowy saunter, and for all of its one-mic-ness, “Nomad” gives a twist on ’50s and early ’60s guitar instrumentals that’s only bolstered by the recording. I’m not saying Las Historias should press up 10,000 LPs immediately or anything, but if this was the record, or maybe an EP and positioned as more substantial than the demos, aside from a couple repeated tracks, you could do far worse. “Hell Bird” howls, man. Twice over.
Certainly “Come With Me” and others on Aquanaut‘s self-titled debut have their desert rocking aspects, but there’s at least as much The Sword as Kyuss in what the Trondheim, Norway, newcomers unfurl on their self-titled, self-released debut, and when you can careen like in “Gamma Rays,” maybe sometimes you don’t need anything else. The seven-track/35-minute outing gets off to a bluesy, boozy start with “Lenéa,” and from there, Aquanaut are able to hone an approach that has its sludgier side in some of the Eyehategod bark of “Morality” but that comes to push increasingly far out as it plays through, so that “Living Memories” soars as the finale after the mid-tempo fuzzmaking of “Ivory,” and so Aquanaut seem to have a nascent breadth working for them in addition to the vigor of a young band shaping a collective persona. The generational turnover in Norway is prevalent right now with a number of promising debuts and breakouts in the last couple years. Aquanaut have a traditionalism at their core but feel like they want to break it as much as celebrate it, and if you’re the type to look for ‘bands to watch,’ that’s a reason to watch. Or even listen, if you’re feeling especially risk-friendly.
While I would be glad to be writing about Ghost Frog‘s quirky heavy-Weezerism and psychedelic chicanery even if their third album, Galactic Mini Golf didn’t have a song called “Deep Space Nine Iron” on it, I can’t lie and say that doesn’t make the prospect a little sweeter. It’s an interlude and I don’t even care — they made it and it’s real. The Portland, Oregon, four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Quinn Schwartz, guitarist/synthesist Karl Beheim, bassist Archie Heald and drummer Vincent LiRocchi (the latter making his first appearance) keep somewhat to a golfy theme, find another layer’s worth of heavy on “Shadow Club,” declare themselves weird before you even press play and reinforce the claim in both righteous post-grunge roll of “Burden of Proof” and the new wave rock of “Bubble Guns” before the big ol’ stompy riff in “Black Hole in One’ leads to a purposeful whole-album finish. Some things don’t have to make the regular kind of sense, because they make their own kind. Absurd as the revelry gets, Ghost Frog make their own kind of sense. Maybe you’ll find it’s also your kind of sense and that’s how we learn things about ourselves from art. Have a great rest of your day.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 20th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
An architect and driving force behind one of the most successful heavy rock bands in the history of the style, bassist/vocalist Mike Dean will step away from the band he co-founded, Corrosion of Conformity. The band’s announcement today comes as something of a shock, and lands even as the long-tenured C.O.C. look to release a new album next year following-up 2018’s No Cross No Crown (review here), which reunited the group with guitarist/vocalist Pepper Keenan, also of Down.
The band notes below that those recordings are in progress, and this seems to be a fresh enough advent that there’s no word of who will replace Dean in handling the crucial bottom end of C.O.C.‘s sound, but at the very least, it means the next C.O.C. record will be just the second in the band’s 42-years-and-counting tenure not to feature Dean, who fronted both early and later incarnations, on bass. That leaves guitarist/backing vocalist Woody Weatherman as the lone remaining founding member, with Keenan having first come aboard for the other Dean-less LP, 1991’s Blind (discussed here), before stepping into the lead vocalist role on 1994’s commercial breakthrough, Deliverance (discussed here), for which Dean also made a return.
You can see his reasons listed below, among them the 2020 passing of drummer Reed Mullin, but whatever drove the decision, there’s no question that seeing the band onstage without him will be a big change, even if it’s not the first time such a thing has happened. And as Dean has a number of other projects and outlets, there’s a certain comfort in knowing it probably won’t be long before the next thing comes up.
Just saw this on socials, so here it is:
This is from our brother, Mike Dean:
“Recently I made a decision to step away from Corrosion Of Conformity, a band started 40 odd years ago by Reed Mullin, Woody Weatherman, and myself.
I’m extremely proud of everything we’ve done together, and look forward to hearing more from the band going forward.
When I rejoined COC for the finishing touches of the “Deliverance” album, I moved back to Raleigh, NC for an all-in creative campaign, but time, distance and side projects and life in general has changed all of that.
Ever since Reed drifted away from the band and then passed way, it’s been difficult for me to collaborate on new material with bandmates who live hundreds of miles away.
I look forward to putting together a new Raleigh based outlet to create new music with more alacrity and with more of an emphasis on my own ideas than in recent times.
Also, I look forward to continuing to record and produce other artists.
All the best to Woodroe, Pepper, and COC crew, and most importantly, many big thanks to the fans of all iterations of the band, who have made this real for all of these years.
Salute!
Mike Dean
PS Stay tuned here for links and more information”
We, Woodroe and Pepper, are in full support of Dean’s future endeavors and wish him all the best in the quest. Thankful for the music made and (R)evolutionary paths created.
That being said, this book of Corrosion is not finished, nor will the train stop. The opportunity to play music and create is something that we don’t take lightly, and we will not waver. New COC recording is well underway and will be released in 2025.
Much love and respect to all the free thinkin’ beer drinkin’ friends and fans worldwide, looking to making more. Without you, we are just growing deaf in a garage.
Posted in audiObelisk on September 18th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Thee Old Night make their self-titled debut on Oct. 17. Releasing through Firelight Records, the acoustic-based three-piece represents a creative sidestep for Erik Sugg, known for harder-hitting fare in outfits like Demon Eye, Lightning Born and The Magpie, and carries shades of foregone country wistfulness in the pedal steel of Kevin Wade Inge (Horsehead) and the stately, sometimes sad cello of Michigan-based Anne Polesnak (The Ready Set and others).
But while the root style of the project is Americana in its affect and songs like “Leave the Day Behind” and “All Around Us” are structurally stripped down, the arrangements want nothing for flourish between the three players — Inge also contributes synth and piano — and the possibilities feel broad as they lean into neofolk drawing from the likes of Wovenhand, Johnny Cash‘s American recordings, and while closer “Darling” starts out relatively minimal with Sugg on guitar and vocals, the manner in which the textures take shape around that is distinguishing and speaks to a progression starting out.
You can read the background of how Sugg, Polesnak and Inge came together, and in the album’s spirit of trimming out what doesn’t need to be there, you’ll pardon me if I skip paraphrasing. Before that blue text, you’ll find the premiere of a video for “Precious Blood” from Thee Old Night‘s Thee Old Night. It’s the opening track of the 10-song/39-minute LP and, and in addition to introducing the basic sounds involved — i.e. what the recording is like and how the material is presented in the mix; spoiler: the recording is clear and the mix mostly but not exclusively puts guitar and voice forward — it showcases some of the christian-imagery influence in Americana that’s the source of the Wovenhand comparison above, and the vocal approach that Sugg has ported over from his other bands.
It by no means represents the scope of craft throughout Thee Old Night, as the later “Life in Pain” takes the Nirvana Unplugged version of “Polly” for a doomfolk strut and “The River The Mountain” feels born out of Led Zeppelin‘s impulses to bask in the empty space rather than attempt to fill it in their subdued moments, taking a quieter approach than the dug-in low strum of “Sibyl” or the handclap-and-organ-inclusive “Red Like Crimson.” The pedal steel on “Leave the Day Behind” plays more toward country, but the earlier “Shadows” is heavy and dark regardless of the actual volume or distortion quotient. You can almost hear the band learning who they are collectively as “Darling” builds up to the finish.
The sense they give as a result is that they’ll move forward from here, but I won’t try to predict a shape for things to come except to say Thee Old Night set themselves up for a multifaceted growth around the songs, which carry the solidity that Sugg has brought to numerous projects to new and differently-engaging places. They may end up moving toward one tradition or another sound-wise, experimenting with arrangements or different aesthetics, but there’s songwriting at work here, and the album is about more than the atmosphere that nonetheless emerges from its tracks.
All of which is to say enjoy the clip. If “Precious Blood” is your first exposure to the band — it’s mine too, that’s okay — just know that they build a world around it from there on the record.
PR wire info follows:
Thee Old Night, “Precious Blood” video premiere
Thee Old Night is a dark, minimalist folk trio based out of North Carolina and Richmond, VA, featuring members of Demon Eye, Lightning Born, Utah, and Horsehead. The group blends elements of psychedelia, classic country, and traditional doom metal into an unprecedented, spectral sound focused on melody, meditation, and the liminal spaces between established genre norms.
1. Precious Blood 2. Shadows 3. The River, The Mountain 4. All Around Us 5. Red Like Crimson 6. Life in Pain 7. Sibyl 8. Leave the Day Behind 9. Salvation 10. Darling
The group began as a solo foray for Erik Sugg, following his years of fronting the celebrated doom metal outfit, Demon Eye, and his work as a guitarist and songwriter for Ripple Records artists, Lightning Born. Delving into his long-standing love for the Imaginational Anthem school of acoustic guitar, Erik experimented with various elements of British folk, vintage psychedelia, and classic country, finding solace in the simplicity of rhythm and mournful melodies, allowing his voice to soar through lyrical explorations of human consciousness and the mystical notion of the “dark night of the soul.”
With a voice that often draws comparisons to Roky Erickson, rhythmically matched with Lou Reed’s minimalist strumming to the head-bobbing boogie of Billy Gibbons, Erik looked to the influence of fellow dark travelers, contemporaries like Nick Cave, Mark Langegan, Steven Von Till, and Chelsea Wolfe, to voices of the past, like Townes Van Zandt, Hank Williams, and Nick Drake. After a few solo performances throughout the Raleigh area, Erik opened doors for others to join him on his journey.
Cellist and Michigan native, Anne Polesnak, was a widely known and respected musician throughout the North Carolina triangle region, having played with indie rock outfits, Utah, The Ready Set, and The Monologue Bombs. Erik reached out to Anne during the pandemic era, asking if she would lend her talents to his visions. As the COVID years waned, Anne and Erik got together for a joining of the strings. The powerful, low richness of Anne’s cello was the perfect accompaniment to Thee Old Night’s developing sound.
Kevin Wade Inge was a kindred rock and roll spirit to Erik during the late ’90s and early 2000s in Richmond, VA. wherein they split sonic duties as guitarists for the MC5-influenced rock and roll band, The Dragstrip Syndicate. Throughout the years, Kevin made a name for himself, not only as the skilled multi-instrumentalist for the beloved Americana rock darlings, Horsehead, but also as a go-to session musician for artists all across the sonic spectrum, (including the debut solo album from Windhand’s Dorthia Cottrell). His atmospheric pedal steel guitar, along with his keyboard wizardry, completed Thee Old Night’s unique musical dynamics.
Thee Old Night will release their self-titled debut in October of 2024 via Firelight Records. The group performs regionally throughout the southeast, gaining new listeners beyond the confines of genre, scenes, and traditional expectations of what music should be.
Erik Sugg: Guitars and Vocals Anne Polesnak: Cello Kevin Wade Inge: Pedal Steel Guitar, Piano, Synthesizer
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.
I heard “Dance of the Dead” on the radio this week — that’s right, FM radio; thanks WSOU — and it prompted this revisit. Corrosion of Conformity‘s Blind came out in 1991 on Relativity Records with a follow-up release in 1995 through Columbia during the Raleigh, North Carolina-based outfit’s major label era, and to this day, it occupies a singular place in their history and discography. Running a ’90s-style 52 minutes and 13 songs, it was the first time they worked with producer John Custer, who has helmed everything they’ve done since, the only album they’ve ever done as a five-piece, the first that featured guitarist Pepper Keenan, who after this record would take over as their primary singer, and to my knowledge the only studio release they’ve had without founding bassist/sometimes-vocalist Mike Dean in the lineup.
Dean would be back in the band in time for 1994’s Deliverance (discussed here) as part of the definitive lineup with Keenan and fellow founders Woody Weatherman (guitar) and Reed Mullin (drums; R.I.P. 2020), but for Blind, bass was handled by Phil Swisher, while Karl Agell served as standalone frontman. Those two would play together in Leadfoot afterward, and Agell currently sings for both Lie Heavy and Legions of Doom, the latter of which is the post-Eric Wagner offshoot of The Skull, but during their time in C.O.C., they were part of the transitional moment between the raw punk and hardcore that defined their first two LPs, 1984’s Eye for an Eye, 1985’s Animosity, as well as 1987’s Technocracy EP, etc., and the Southern heavy rock they would in no small part help to shape over the rest of the 1990s.
You should know this isn’t an album I can pretend to be impartial about, let alone the band or the fact that human objectivity is a myth to begin with. Blind was one of the first CDs I ever owned, having unceremoniously swiped my older sister’s copy along with Master of Puppets, Rollins Band‘s Weight, Suicidal Tendencies‘ The Art of Rebellion, Alice in Chains‘ Sap and a couple others at around 10 years old, probably sometime in 1992 if I had to guess. “Damned for All Time” and the aforementioned “Dance of the Dead” — the one-two punch of charged riffing and crunching groove that follows the creeper-feedback-into-march of the intro “These Shrouded Temples…” — were on just about every mixtape I made for probably the next three years, the metal band connecting the over-ear headphones of my off-brand Walkman from the Caldor on Rt. 10 pulling my disaffected pubescent sadboy hair out with every tiny adjustment. I remember plotzing through the neighborhood on long walks with nowhere to put myself, sitting by the pond down the road, doing what I’d already been warned was irreparable damage to my hearing.
I’ll admit it’s been years since I actively engaged with it, but it’s always been there. The sinewy delivery of Agell in the chorus of “Mine Are the Eyes of God,” or the swaggering riff in “Painted Smiling Face,” the MTV-ready hooks and a sound that was in conversation with a classic heavy rock I’d yet to encounter; it was all new for me at that point, and I won’t say it’s the dragon of heavy I’ve been chasing all along for the last three-plus decades, but it spoke to me in a way that ‘regular’ rock and roll didn’t and helped me find my path into heavier and more metallic listening. Put simply, it changed my life.
Hearing it now, Blind is striking in its political theme. Even aside from “Vote with a Bullet,” which brought Keenan to lead vocals for the first time and is still a staple of C.O.C. live sets, its declarations of intended violence landing in something of a different context than when it first came out, cuts like the anti-white-supremacist “White Noise,” the envisioning a new world in “Great Purification” and more general anti-authority lines like “If the system had one neck/You know I’d gladly break it” in “Dance of the Dead,” and so on, land with a disaffection to coincide with the conversant-with-metal thrust behind the shred in “Painted Smiling Face,” and do so with a directness that one rarely if ever encounters in heavy rock now. It wasn’t the first or last time C.O.C. talked about social issues — lest we forget that the 2018 return LP from the Keenan, Dean, Weatherman and Mullin lineup was called No Cross No Crown (review here), or, you know, that the band’s name is Corrosion of Conformity — but while the language used and rhetoric have changed in the last 30 years, Blind taps American-style anti-governmentalism in a way that, coming off the Reagan years and as George Bush took the country to war in the Middle East in a preface to decades of moral and fiscal bankrupting, still resonates from its place in time.
Obviously, these weren’t cues I was picking up at 11 years old, but I understood wanting to break out, to not be told what to do, and internalized a lot of that from these songs, especially the singles. What I didn’t appreciate at the time was the connection via riffing to Black Sabbath in the starts and stops of “Buried” or the brooding, slower-rolling finale “Echoes in the Well” before the bookending outro “…Remain,” but that’s all over Blind in a way that not much I would’ve heard on the radio at the time would have captured. The idea of ‘heavy rock’ as something separate from metal didn’t really exist in the commercial sphere, but it’s inarguably here, and with the backdrop of what Corrosion of Conformity would accomplish in Deliverance, 1996’s Wiseblood (discussed here) and 2000’s more smoothly produced and undervalued America’s Volume Dealer, it feels both like the sore thumb standing out of their catalog and the root from which they grew into the band they wanted to be.
As noted, Agell is now in Lie Heavy and Legions of Doom, both of which one might consider actively active. Meanwhile, C.O.C. were last year beginning the process of putting together their next LP to follow No Cross No Crown, with Dean, Keenan and Weatherman collaborating with Galactic drummer Stanton Moore, who’d previously appeared on 2005’s In the Arms of God. I don’t know if that’ll be out this year, next year, or ever, but here’s hoping. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading.
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I don’t have much time here. It’s coming on eight in the morning and The Patient Mrs. and The Pecan will soon be finished playing games on the iPad and ready to start a morning that, whatever shape it takes, will require direct participation from me. Off-laptop, in other words.
This week was my daughter’s spring break from school. It started last Friday ahead of Easter, and she goes back Monday unless we decide to abscond to Pittsburgh to watch the solar eclipse. Depends on the weather, partially. It hasn’t been the easiest of weeks — it rained and was cold and miserable from Monday through yesterday morning — but she had a half-day camp thing and ice skating lessons to keep her busy. But stuck-in-the-house, tv-off boredom might be a piece of why there’s been an uptick in attitude and more punches thrown. The other day I ended up carrying her screaming and kicking from the rink after she unloaded on The Patient Mrs. for trying to stop her from skating through the next lesson taking place on the ice. I held her down to get her skates off because I didn’t think she was in control enough to stop herself from hurting either of us. It was an especially shitty moment to be alive.
I got hit last night too, for missing a button combo in Super Mario RPG and some other infraction I can’t remember. It’s a lot of “you can’t tell me what to do” and “you have to do what I say” from her as she, I guess, works on figuring out her place in the world. It has not been pleasant, but neither was the week unipolar in awfulness. We snuggled and watched Bluey yesterday evening as The Patient Mrs. was out at dinner with a friend. Last weekend we went to Connecticut with family to color eggs. She had a nice Easter, kept it together well at brunch, and we beat Link’s Awakening on the Switch. The lows are low, but the lows aren’t everything, is what I’m saying.
We’ll see how today goes. As regards the arguments, the opposition, the way I think of it is like this: It’s never everything, but it could be anything, and it’s almost always something. I just remembered that the other thing I got hit for last night was that I didn’t anticipate she’d want the Chromecast (which hadn’t been used in a year before The Patient Mrs. and I moved it to our bedroom) to watch the “Dad Baby” episode of Bluey, which isn’t on Disney-Plus. So yeah. I’ll be honest and say I’ve had a hard time looking forward to the last couple days. Another mantra, “things will not always be as they are now.”
Two sides to that, of course. Like everything.
Next week is slammed front-to-back and I’m already behind on news, so whatever. I’ll do my best to write as much as I can and that’s that. I hope you have a great and safe weekend, whatever you’re up to. If you get to see the eclipse, don’t look at it. Otherwise, hydrate, move your body a bit, watch your head, and I’ll be back on Monday with more of whatever you call this at this point.
Lie Heavy will issue their debut album, Burn to the Moon, through Heavy Psych Sounds on April 19. The well-pedigreed North Carolinian outfit comprised of guitarist Graham Fry (ex-Confessor), vocalist Karl Agell (The Skull/Legions of Doom, Patriarchs in Black, Leadfoot, Blind-era Corrosion of Conformity), drummer Jeff “JD” Dennis (Hank Sinatra and the Backsliders) and bassist TR Gwynne self-released the 12-song bangerfest last year and will now see it issued through Europe’s foremost heavy purveyor in its first physical editions.
An interesting passage-of-time aspect to how Lie Heavy are presented, since around the time Agell was were in Leadfoot (you’ll know it’s them because they drink for free) there was little talk of “throwbacks to another era” or this kind of dudely, straight-hitting sound as primal, with the implication of course that more complex ideas have come along since. That happens to be true. You can’t deny that heavy music has developed in the last two decades and that Lie Heavy are intentional in sticking to their guns updating their own versions of ‘the classics’ while themselves being cast with a classic sound.
This is a good thing, distinguishing among generations. You and I will live to see the first generation who made rock and roll die out. It is uncharted territory for the art form, and the narratives of the history of heavy will be made not by those who were there when the first riff was strummed but those who look back after and decide what was ‘classic’ or otherwise worthwhile in terms of influence. If Lie Heavy are a voice from the past stylistically, fine — heavy’s all about speaking to its own beginnings — but let’s also keep in mind that two decades (-plus) will has happened to Agell and company as well, and Lie Heavy are a stronger, fresher band for that.
Their video for “Burn to the Moon” — not a terrible-sounding idea — premieres below to coincide with the opening of preorders for the album from Heavy Psych Sounds. Info below comes from the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Lie Heavy, “Burn to the Moon” video premiere
US heavy rock supergroup LIE HEAVY: Debut album “Burn To The Moon” out April 19th on Heavy Psych Sounds
Raleigh, North Carolina’s Lie Heavy is one of the few, true throwbacks to another era. They feature the vocals of Karl Agell, best known for Corrosion of Conformity’s BLiND album and Leadfoot. Heavy, heavy-ass blues that would have fit on the Man’s Ruin label back in the 90s, around the time that Orange Goblin was making waves. This is primal stuff: not quite Stoner, not quite Metal, and not quite giving a shit.
1. Nothing To Steal 2. In The Shadow 3. Burn To The Moon 4. Drag The World 5. The Long March 6. Lie Heavy 7. When The Universe Cries 8. Chunkadelic 0. Pontius Pilate 10. Unbeliever 11. Diabolik 12. End the World
Karl Agell – Lead Vocals Jeff JD Dennis – Drums & Percussions / Vocals TR Gwynne – Bass / Vocals / Acoustic Guitar Graham Fry – Guitars / Vocals
