Here we are. Welcome to 2023 and to both the first Quarterly Review of this year and the kind of unofficial closeout of 2022. These probably won’t be the last writeups for releases from the year just finished — if past is prologue, I’ll remain months if not years behind in some cases; you do what you can — but from here on out it’s more about this year than last in the general balance of what’s covered. That’s the hope, anyway. Talk to me in April to see how it’s going.

I won’t delay further except to remind that we’ll do 10 reviews per day between now and next Friday for a total of 100 covered, and to say thanks if you keep up with it at all. I hope you find something that resonates with you, otherwise there’s not much point in the endeavor at all. So here we go.

Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #1-10:

Buddha Sentenza, High Tech Low Life

With a foundation in instrumental meditative heavy psychedelia, Heidelberg, Germany’s Buddha Sentenza push outward along a number of different paths across their third album, High Tech Low Life, as in the second of five cuts, “Anabranch,” which builds on the mood-setting linear build and faster payoff of opener “Oars” and adds both acoustic guitar, metal-impact kick drum and thrash-born (but definitely still not entirely thrash) riffing, and later, heavier post-rock nod in the vein of Russian Circles, but topped with willfully grandiose keyboard. Kitchensinkenalia, then! “Ricochet” ups the light to a blinding degree by the time it’s two and a half minutes in, then punks up the bass before ending up in a chill sample-topped stretch of noodle-prog, “Afterglow” answers that with careening space metal, likewise progressive comedown, keyboard shred, some organ and hand-percussion behind Eastern-inflected guitar, and a satisfyingly sweeping apex, and 12-minute finale “Shapeshifters” starts with a classic drum-fueled buildup, takes a victory lap in heavy prog shove, spends a few minutes in dynamic volume trades, gets funky behind a another shreddy solo, peaks, sprints, crashes, and lumbers confidently to its finish, as if to underscore the point that whatever Buddha Sentenza want to make happen, they’re going to. So be it. High Tech Low Life may be their first record since Semaphora (review here) some seven years ago, but it feels no less masterful for the time between.

Buddha Sentenza on Facebook

Pink Tank Records store

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Magma Haze, Magma Haze

Captured raw in self-produced fashion, the Sept. 2022 debut album from Magma Haze sees the four-piece embark on an atmospheric and bluesy take on heavy rock, weaving through grunge and loosely-psychedelic flourish as they begin to shape what will become the textures of their sound across six songs and 42 minutes that are patiently offered but still carry a newer band’s sense of urgency. Beginning with “Will the Wise,” the Bologna, Italy, outfit remind somewhat of Salt Lake City’s Dwellers with the vocals of Alessandro D’Arcangeli in throaty post-earlier-Alice in Chains style, but as they move through “Stonering” and the looser-swinging, drenched-in-wah “Chroma,” their blend becomes more apparent, the ‘stoner’ influence showing up in the general languidity of vibe that persists regardless of a given track’s tempo. To wit, “Volcanic Hill” with its bass-led sway at the start, or the wah behind the resultant shove, building up and breaking down again only to end on the run in a fadeout. The penultimate “Circles” grows more spacious in its back half with what might be organ but I’m pretty sure is still guitar behind purposefully drawn-out vocals, and closer “Moon” grows more distorted and encouragingly fuzzed in its midsection en route to a wisely understated payoff and resonant end. There’s potential here.

Magma Haze on Facebook

Sound Effect Records store

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Future Projektor, The Kybalion

Instrumental in its entirety and offered with a companion visual component on Blu-ray with different cover art, The Kybalion is the ambitious, 40-minute single-song debut long-player from Richmond, Virginia’s Future Projektor. With guitarist/vocalist Adam Kravitz and drummer Kevin White — both formerly of sludgesters Gritter; White is also ex-Throttlerod — and Sean Plunkett on bass, the band present an impressive breadth of scope and a sense of cared-for craft throughout their immersive course, and with guitar and sometimes keys from Kravitz leading the way as one movement flows into the next, the procession feels not only smooth, but genuinely progressive in its reach. It’s not that they’re putting on a showcase for technique, but the sense of “The Kybalion” as built up around its stated expressive themes — have fun going down a Wikipedia hole reading about hermeticism — is palpable and the piece grows more daring the deeper it goes, touching on cinematic around 27 minutes in but still keeping a percussive basis for when the heavier roll kicks in a short time later. Culminating in low distortion that shifts into keyboard revelation, The Kybalion is an adventure open to any number of narrative interpretations even beyond the band’s own, and that only makes it a more effective listen.

Future Projektor on Facebook

Future Projektor on Bandcamp

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Grin, Phantom Knocks

Berlin duo Grin — one of the several incarnations of DIY-prone power couple Jan (drums, guitar, vocals, production) and Sabine Oberg (bass) alongside EarthShip and Slowshine — grow ever more spacious and melodic on Oct. 2022’s Phantom Knocks, their third full-length released on their own imprint, The Lasting Dose Records. Comprised of eight songs running a tight and composed but purposefully ambient 33 minutes with Sabine‘s bass at the core of airy progressions like that of “Shiver” or the rolling, harsh-vocalized, puts-the-sludge-in-post-sludge “Apex,” Phantom Knocks follows the path laid out on 2019’s Translucent Blades (review here) and blends in more extreme ideas on “Aporia” and the airy pre-finisher “Servants,” but is neither beholden to its float nor its crush; both are tools used in service to the moment’s expression. Because of that, Grin move fluidly through the entirety of Phantom Knocks, intermittently growing monstrous to fill the spaces they’ve created, but mindful as well of keeping those spaces intact. Inarguably the work of a band with a firm sense of its own identity, it nonetheless seems to reach out and pull the listener into its depths.

Grin on Facebook

The Lasting Dose Records on Bandcamp

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Teverts, The Lifeblood

Though clearly part of Teverts‘ focus on The Lifeblood is toward atmosphere and giving its audience a sense of mood that is maintained throughout its six tracks, a vigorousness reminiscent of later Dozer offsets the post-rocking elements from the Benevento, Italy, three-piece. They are not the first to bring together earthy bass with exploratory guitar overtop and a solid drum underpinning, but after the deceptively raucous one-two of the leadoff title-track and “Draining My Skin,” the more patient unfurling of instrumental side A finale “Under Antares Light” — which boasts a chugging march in its midsection and later reaches that is especially righteous — clues that the full-fuzz stoner rock starting side B with the desert-swinging-into-the-massive-slowdown “UVB-76” is only part of the appeal rather than the sum of it. “Road to Awareness” portrays a metallic current (post-metal, maybe?) in its shouty post-intro vocals and general largesse, but wraps with an engaging and relatively spontaneous-sounding lead before “Comin’ Home” answers back to “The Lifeblood” and that slowdown in “UVB-76” in summarizing the stage-style energy and the vast soundscape it has inhabited all the while. They end catchy, but the final crescendo is instrumental, a big end of the show complete with cymbal wash and drawn solo notes. Bravo.

Teverts on Facebook

Karma Conspiracy Records store

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Ggu:ll, Ex Est

An engrossing amalgam of lurching extreme doom and blackened metal, the second long-player, Ex Est, by Tilburg, Netherlands’ Ggu:ll is likewise bludgeoning, cruel and grim in its catharsis. The agonies on display seem to come to a sort of wailing head in “Stuip” later on, but that’s well after the ultra-depressive course has been set by “Falter” and “Enkel Achterland.” In terms of style, “Hoisting Ruined Sails” moves through slow death and post-sludge, but the tonal onslaught is only part of the weight on offer, and indeed, Ggu:ll bring dark grey and strobe-afflicted fog to the forward, downward march of “Falter” and the especially raw centerpiece “Samt-al-ras,” setting up a contrast with the speedier guitar in the beginning minutes of closer “Voertuig der Verlorenen” that feels intentional even as the latter decays into churning, harsh noise. There’s a spiritual aspect of the work, but the shadow that’s cast in Ex Est defines it, and the four-piece bring precious little hope amid the swirling and destructive antilife. Because this is so clearly their mission, Ex Est is a triumph almost in spite of itself, but it’s a triumph just the same, even at its moments of most vigorous, slow, skin-peeling crawl.

Ggu:ll on Facebook

Consouling Sounds store

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Fulanno & The Crooked Whispers, Last Call From Hell

While one wouldn’t necessarily call it balanced in runtime with Argentina’s Fulanno offering about 19 minutes of material with Los Angeles’ The Crooked Whispers answering with about 11, their Last Call From Hell split nonetheless presents a two-track sampler of both groups’ cultish doom wares. Fulanno lumber through “Erotic Pleasures in the Catacombs” and “The Cycle of Death” with dark-toned Sabbath-worship-plus-horror-obsession-stoned-fuckall, riding central riffs into a seemingly violent but nodding oblivion, while The Crooked Whispers plod sharply in the scream-topped six minutes of “Bloody Revenge,” giving a tempo kick later on, and follow a steadier dirge pace with “Dig Your Own Grave” while veering into a cleaner, nasal vocal style from Anthony Gaglia (also of LáGoon). Uniting the two bands disparate in geography and general intent is the dug-in vibe that draws out over both, their readiness to celebrate a death-stench vision of riff-led doom that, while, again, differently interpreted by each, sticks in the nose just the same. Nothing else smells like death. You know it immediately, and it’s all over Last Call From Hell.

Fulanno on Facebook

The Crooked Whispers on Facebook

Helter Skelter Productions site

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Mister Earthbound, Shadow Work

Not all is as it seems as Mister Earthbound‘s debut album, Shadow Work, gets underway with the hooky “Not to Know” and a riff that reminds of nothing so much as Valley of the Sun, but the key there is in the swing, since that’s what will carry over from the lead track to the remaining six on the 36-minute LP, which turns quickly on the mellow guitar strum of “So Many Ways” to an approach that feels directly drawn from Hisingen Blues-era Graveyard. The wistful bursts of “Coffin Callin'” and the later garage-doomed “Wicked John” follow suit in mood, while “Hot Foot Powder” is more party than pout once it gets going, and the penultimate “Weighed” has more burl to its vocal drawl and an edge of Southern rock to its pre-payoff verses, while the subsequent closer “No Telling” feels like a take on Chris Goss fronting Queens of the Stone Age for “Mosquito Song” on Songs for the Deaf, and yes, that is a compliment. The jury may be out on Mister Earthbound‘s ultimate aesthetic — that is, where they’re headed, they might not be yet — but Shadow Work has songwriting enough at its root that I wouldn’t mind if that jury doesn’t come back. Time will tell, but “multifaceted” is a good place to start when you’ve got your ducks in a row behind you as Mister Earthbound seem to here.

Mister Earthbound on Facebook

Mister Earthbound on Bandcamp

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Castle Rat, Feed the Dream

Surely retro sword-bearing theatrics are part of the appeal when it comes to Brooklyn’s potential-rife, signed-in-three-two-one-go doom rockers Castle Rat‘s live presentation, but as they make their studio debut with the four-and-a-half-minute single “Feed the Dream,” that’s not necessarily going to come across to all who take the track on. Fortunately for the band, then, the song is no less thought out. A mid-paced groove that puts the guitar out before the ensuing march and makes way purposefully for the vocals of Riley “The Rat Queen” Pinkerton — who also plays rhythm guitar, while Henry “The Count” Black plays lead, Ronnie “The Plague Doctor” Lanzilotta is on bass and Joshua “The Druid” Strmic drums — to arrive with due presence. With a capital-‘h’ Heavy groove underlying, they bask in classic metal vibes and display a rare willingness to pretend the ’90s never happened. This is to their credit. The sundry boroughs of New York City have had bands playing dress-up with various levels of goofball sex, violence and excess since before the days of Twisted Sister — to be fair, this is glam via anti-glam — but the point with Castle Rat isn’t so much that the idea is new but the interpretation of it is. On the level of the song itself, “Feed the Dream” sounds like a candle being lit. Get your fire emojis ready, if that’s still a thing.

Castle Rat on Instagram

Castle Rat on Bandcamp

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Mountains, Tides End

Immediate impact. Mountains‘ Tides End is the London trio’s second long-player behind 2017’s Dust in the Glare (discussed here), and though overall it makes a point of its range, the first impression in opener “Moonchild” is that the band are already on their way and it’s on the listener to keep up. Life and death pervade “Moonchild” and the more intense “Lepa Radić,” which follows, but it’s hard to listen to those two at the beginning, the breakout in “Birds on a Wire,” the heavy roll of “Hiraeth” and the rumble at the core of “Pilgrim” without waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Mountains to more completely unveil their metallic side. It’s there in the guitar solos, the drums, even as “Pilgrim” reminds of somewhat of Green Lung in its clarity of vision, but to their credit, the trio get through “Empire” and “Under the Eaves” and most of “Tides End” itself before the chug swallows them — and the album, it seems — whole. A curious blend of styles, wholly modern, Tides End feels more aggressive in its purposes than did the debut, but that doesn’t at all hurt it as the band journey to that massive finish.

Mountains on Facebook

Mountains on Bandcamp

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The new release from Richmond, Virginia’s Thunderchief brings together a series of covers the duo have been releasing over the course of the last year in one handy collection. You’ll find the latest of the bunch — a take on Dinosaur Jr.‘s “Don’t” — streaming at the bottom of this post along with 2021’s Synanthrope (review here), and between here and there is a decent stretch of tour dates they’ll undertake beginning Jan. 9. Their route takes them southward, because who the hell wants to head north in January anyway, and be out for two solid weeks, heading as far west as San Antonio before looping back around toward home.

The title here, Dekk Meg…, is “cover me” in Norwegian, if you’re wondering, so fair enough for being a collection of covers. As you can see below, it’s been a not-insignificant undertaking on the part of Rik Surly and Erik Larson (the latter also Alabama Thunderpussy, etc.), and I’ll look forward to digging into the whole bunch together when the opportunity presents itself.

Info from the PR wire:

THUNDERCHIEF is heading South in support of their new release “Dekk Meg…” (ASR Records)

Richmond, VA’s 2–piece nihilistic Sludge ‘n’ Roll outfit THUNDERCHIEF are heading out due south to support their new CD release, “Dekk Meg…” (ASR Records), slated for Friday, January 6, 2023.

The album is the culmination of 12 cover songs that were digitally released as singles throughout 2021/2022, and have now been re-mastered at New Alliance East in Boston, MA. This collection of deep cuts by Sheer Terror, Joe Walsh, Neanderthal, among others, showcases the band making full use of the pandemic downtime.

“Dekk Meg…” (“Cover Me…”) was created in 3 sessions with 6 powerhouse engineers–Mike Dean, Mark Miley, Jordan Faett, Lance Koehler, Allen Bergendahl, and Nick Zampiello

Tour begins January 9 in Asheville, NC and continues on with heavy support from CrankBait, Hot Ram, Christworm, and a rare appearance from Southern heavyweight titans, Hexxus.

1/9 Asheville, NC Static Age Records
1/10 Murfreesboro, TN cXr
1/11 Little Rock, AR Whitewater Tavern
1/12 Denton, TX Dan’s Silverleaf
1/13 San Antonio, TX Faust
1/14 Austin, TX Lost Well
1/15 Houston, TX Black Magic Social Club
1/16 New Orleans, LA Siberia
1/17 Gulfport, MS VFW #1406
1/18 Birmingham, AL Saturn
1/19 Atlanta, GA Star Community Bar
1/20 Charlotte, NC The Milestone
1/21 Charleston, SC Trolley Pub
1/22 Raleigh, NC School Kids Records

Cover & Artist Photos: Chris Boarts Larson

Thunderchief are:
Rik Surly – Guitar/vocals
Erik Larson – Drums

www.thethunderchief.com
www.thethunderchief.bandcamp.com
www.instagram.com/thunderchiefofficial
www.facebook.com/thunderchiefrva

Thunderchief, “Don’t” (Dinosaur Jr. cover)

Thunderchief, Synanthrope (2021)

4:15PM – Before show

I’ve never been to Richmond, which is host to Richmond Music Hall, the venue for this Alabama Thunderpussy reunion. No better spot, probably. Hometown show, friends in Suplecs and Loud Night on the bill. If it was ever going to happen, why the hell not now and here? I can think of no reason this reunion should not go forth as planned.

Soundcheck is, fundamentally, a re-gathering of friends. The ATP guys and the Suplecs guys go back decades, and what feels like an old rapport is quickly revived. Spinal Tap references, inevitably. I didn’t bring water, which was a rookie error, but I walked up to the local metal shop, Vinyl Conflict, and found that vinyl won the conflict. No complaints. I wasn’t really looking to spend the money. I hobbled back to the venue, a bar that looks like it is doing well, place you could taken your kids if you had the kind of kids you could make sit still for a meal, and the venue space is right next door with exposed brick, nice dark wood floor, bare ceiling, fans spinning lazily. Look up, no ninja strike force waiting for their move.

Left at 7:51AM, arrived 1:34PM, so the ride wasn’t terrible. I’ll need to pick up a fridge magnet on my way out of town tomorrow. It has not escaped my attention that Richmond on first impression looks like a lot of towns on the Eastern Seaboard; the place where a city happened. It’s got its fancy condos — more coming, perpetually, it seems, but it’ll stop next time the housing market collapses — and it’s got its older houses, a lot of growth post-WWI/II you can see in the brickwork. Older roots, had its industrious time when industry was a thing. Now restaurants, apartments. The vinyl store. Ups and downs to everything, man.

I am lucky to have The Obelisk present shows at various times and in various places around the world. If someone asks me if they can put a logo on a poster, I rarely say no. This one feels a little special, I’ll admit. ATP were one of the first bands who in my mind came to represent a lot of what worked best about Southern heavy rock around and after the turn of the century, and I’m pleased to say they always delivered live, every time I saw them, and I saw them a bunch, from spots like Irving Plaza in NYC to a (beloved) hole in the wall like The Saint in Asbury Park.

And Suplecs it’s been since probably SXSW in 2004 or 2005, so if you believe in due, I have to qualify. They soundcheck after Alabama Thunderpussy are done, play a funky psych jam that just kind of comes out, as I expect it might anytime, anywhere from them, but it’s basically a warm-up, dropped soon enough in favor of getting the kick drum right. Guitar getting shocked stops the whole thing. They reverse the polarity. It works. Next jam is blues, as it would be.

It’s barely after 5PM, show is still hours off. I don’t mind sitting, so I expect I’ll do a good bit of that before things actually get started.

Loud Night show up, soundcheck. Dudes eat. Pretty mellow scene before doors then the stories start quick about how long it’s been, last time who saw what band, this and that and that kind of thing. The room is excited before even Loud Night starts, stage waiting in red light. 8PM start, me waiting on a bench along the wall, needing more water.

Here’s notes from the show:

Loud Night

Dudes would join the filth-encrusted lineage of Motörhead and Venom and they know it. A good dose of humor in the between-song banter gave a bit of context to the onslaught, sociopolitical lyrics to set finale “Holy Hell” arriving with the disclaimer that we’re already there. Fair enough. Black metal, thrash-in-dirt, what would be fuckall if it wasn’t so physically demanding to play, this was my first exposure to Loud Night, who are obviously schooled in older school methodologies despite being the youngest band on the bill. They had a backdrop that was righteous in how much it looked homemade, and their sound was very much embodied in that. Full-speed, all-go, stop to breathe between but hit it again soon enough. I don’t mind saying it was the most metal thing I’ve seen in some time, but especially encouraging coming from a bunch of not-grayhairs. They weren’t kids, by any means — local citizens, upstanding and all that shit I’m sure — but they played like raw bastards and that is a thing to be appreciated when one can appreciate it. Maybe that’s the future of metal. No genres, only spit. There’s part of me that hopes so, and part of me that thinks that kind of thing will always be relegated to the few ears willing to be so decisively battered.

Suplecs

Okay, I looked it up. The last time I saw Suplecs was in Philadelphia in 2011 (review here). That’s probably long enough. And I don’t want to seem overly sentimental, but wow that set took me back. Suplecs doing “White Devil?” Has stoner rock ever been more stoner rock? Maybe when they did “Rock Bottom?” Hell if I know, but I was transported watching them to a simpler and, for me, drunker time, circa 2004/2005, bumming around SXSW in a well-earned 20-something’s stupor, making it to see them lay waste to one room or another, maybe not for the first time that day. Today, my back is sore and my knee is sore and I’m tired because I’ve been up since five this morning not drinking but they still tore it up. If this is getting old, at least the music is good. It is my sincere hope that, if I ever get to see this band again, it won’t be in another 11 years. They were a blast as well as a blast from the past, and they remain one of the aughts’ most undercelebrated original era stoner bands. They should be out playing festivals in Europe when not doing the reunion gigs of bands with whom they toured pre-9/11. I don’t think that will happen, but for just three dudes, they made the stage feel small and they had heads in the crowd singing along to more than just their take on “I Want You (She’s So Heavy),” though most certainly to that as well. Like a lot of bands from their cohort, they would be bigger if they were starting out now, but so it goes. They remain better and more fun than they’ve ever gotten credit for being.

Alabama Thunderpussy

Is the world ready for an Alabama Thunderpussy reunion? I don’t know. Richmond, Virginia, sure as shit is though. I guess the cliché thing to say here is they took the stage like they never left, and who the hell could ever know if such a thing is true, but, well, they definitely didn’t sound like a band who hasn’t spent the last 15 or so years kicking ass, which I suppose is what they are. I never got to see them on their original run with Kyle Thomas — who doubles in Exhorder and triples in Trouble — but with Erik Larson and Ryan Lake on either side of the stage on guitar, Sam Krivanec on bass and Bryan Cox on drums, they were locked in quickly and stayed that way for the duration. It was a thing to witness, and Thomas’ voice only added to the scorch, nailing songs from before he joined the band as well as from the Open Fire album, which remains their most recent outing. Let’s add a big ‘to-date’ to that, because it seems to me that if this was a one-off, it was great but a waste, and if it was a kind of re-proof of concept, the concept was proven long before they even hit into “Wage Slave,” never mind “Rockin’ is Ma Business” at the end of the night. They’ll have to do more. Having stood in front of that stage, it would be hard for me to imagine them not keeping it going, at least for the odd festival here and there. It’s just too good to leave alone. I don’t know if the world is ready, but these guys are. I tend to think of nostalgia as a trap — your lazy brain keeping you tied to old memories so it doesn’t have to go out and make new ones. This set, seeing ATP again after so long, was a little bit of both. But the bottom line is I’m glad I came, and I’m glad I was here to see this happen on their home turf, and I’m glad there was water back on that table by the door. All winning situations. Then you get to all the shred, and groove, and balls-out heavy rock and roll — a band just absolutely going all-in the whole way through. Where’s the next stop on the tour?

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I feel like maybe it’s going to be a bit before I’ve slowed my brain down enough to properly process this evening, but a few things came clear: Suplecs are even better than you remember them being and Alabama Thunderpussy can’t possibly or at least definitely shouldn’t end this here. What I saw and heard come off that stage was too forceful, and the energy too vital, to let it sit untapped. They’re more than 25 years on from their start and tonight seemed like a new beginning just starting to unfurl. I sincerely hope that is the case.

More pics after the jump. Thanks for reading.

Read more »

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: Tommy Hamilton of Druglord & Omen Stones

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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

I was always drawn to heavy guitar from my first memories onward. I had older siblings so random records of that time (early ’70s) were around the house & I was really struck by Uriah Heep “Time To Live” & Grand Funk’s cover of “Gimme Shelter”, just crushing tones. From those years through early punk into hardcore blending with metal it’s hard to describe my angle so I just say I play heavy rock guitar.

Describe your first musical memory.

I think it was hearing Rolling Stones’ “Through The Past Darkly” record and Beatles’ “Magical Mystery Tour”about the same time, I was maybe age six and the sounds on those records blew my little brain. Even then I wondered why the guitars weren’t louder and heavier.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

Within a year time frame I saw Black Sabbath Mob Rules tour and the first Ozzy tour with Randy. I was upset Ozzy left Sabbath but to see it turn into two separate hugely influential entities was amazing!

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

That’s happening right now. It’s always been difficult to hold people in high regard but believed enough rational thinkers would overcome the worst basic instincts in society. I’m adjusting my expectations.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

Learning how to self edit, knowing your strengths and making the most of it is hopefully the result of progressing.

How do you define success?

People interested in what you write and play, that’s about it. Getting validation goes a long way… but a much appreciated perk is playing gigs that don’t COST me money!

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

Can’t think of a single thing I regret seeing, everything is a lesson in something.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

A gatefold double 10” record. Label people laugh at me which is understandable.

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

To take your brain out of the distractions and into the current moment. I hear there are pills for that but art is better.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

My next trip to W VA to the wilderness to climb mountains, which refreshes my brain to write. Everything is about music.

https://www.facebook.com/OmenStonesVA/
https://omenstones.bandcamp.com/

www.facebook.com/DruglordVA/
https://www.instagram.com/druglordva/
https://druglord.bandcamp.com/
https://druglord.bigcartel.com/

Omen Stones, Omen Stones (2022)

Druglord, New Day Dying (2018)

Richmond, Virginia’s Book of Wyrms release their new single ‘Sodapop Glacier’ on Oct. 26 through Desert Records, and much of what you need to know is in the first sentence of the quote from bassist/synthesist Jay “Jake” Lindsey, where he says outright, “We wanted to do something totally different.” All that’s missing is John Cleese sitting at a desk on a beach or in the woods or somewhere; you get the point. And if you’ve heard Book of Wyrms before — which certainly you have, because you’re hip like that, and if not, all are welcome, no gatekeeping — on their 2021 third album Occult New Age (review here) or 2019’s Remythologizer (review here) and 2017’s debut, Sci-Fi/Fantasy (review here), the sense of departure will be pretty immediate in the new piece, the title of which sounds like both a fizzy cloud rolling in over the horizon and a classic Pink Floyd experimentalist epic, and so, I think it’s mission accomplished all around for Lindsey and the rest of the four-piece.

With “Sodapop Glacier,” Book of Wyrms embrace texture as a core methodology. In its 8:54 realization — there is also the 15:42 “Sodapop Glacier (Extended Version)” that comes with the Bandcamp download — the song arrives in movements and waves of drones and synth. Some of the lines of bass hint toward the band’s more structured fare, which is to say, they might sneak in a riff, but the exploratory mindset is paramount, and it is a marked difference from what one generally expects of Book of Wyrms — Lindsey alongside vocalist/synthesist Sarah Moore Lindsey, guitarist Kyle Lewis and drummer Bobby Hufnell — who usually embrace structured and traditional heavy rock songwriting as a central part of their creative ethos. “Sodapop Glacier” is qualitatively ‘something different’ in that it’s directly engaging with ambience and drone meditation in a way that Book of Wyrms never have before.

The result is deeply psychedelic. A mantra of a riff arrives about halfway through the “short” version and the 15-minute version of “Sodapop Glacier” and that feels like a central ground to be touch on as the outward ooze of done and low-key rhythm holds — there are bands in other parts of the world wearing robes and making whole careers out of sounding a lot like this — but it’s a gorgeous procession one way or the other. Also noted below, this is the first time Book of Wyrms have done their own cover art. One sincerely hopes it isn’t the last.

No, Book of Wyrms aren’t the first usually-verse/chorus band to trip out, but they do it remarkably well and in a way that follows their own rules rather than those of drone as a genre, and that makes it all the more easier to appreciate. Maybe it’s a one-off, or maybe their next record will have something working off similar impulses — Occult New Age, which you can stream near the bottom of this post, has the eight-minute “Hollergoblin” with a goodly bit of jamming, so “Sodapop Glacier” isn’t completely out of the blue (and pink and green and orange, all melting together) — but either way it’s an example of a band being willing to try out a new way of working in sound and in addition to respecting that in theory, the reality of the piece itself is gorgeously hypnotic. And I can hear some of the Indian folk influence Lindsey is talking about — there’s a part that sounds like sunrise; you’ll hear it — but he’s right in pointing out that, indeed, it’s not a raga.

Track is out on Wednesday but you can stream it below, followed by the aforementioned quote.

Please enjoy:

Jay Lindsey on “Sodapop Glacier”:

We wanted to do something totally different. We kind of specialize in LPs of very planned songs, so this was pretty much the exact opposite. By myself on a rainy day over the summer and feeling inspired by the weather, I just started playing bass over a drone for a few hours while it rained and thundered. The melodies and phrases were heavily inspired by Northern Indian monsoon ragas (which I listen to a lot during the late spring and summer), but I don’t want anyone to think it’s an authentic interpretation of that rich tradition.

I picked my favorite sections and cut out the rest, and then went back through and built drones and synths to accompany the bass. We brought those tracks to Absolute Future Studio and Bobby added drums and Kyle added guitar. It was very spontaneous for them – they just sort of showed up and played along. Bobby doesn’t usually play to a click without the rest of the band tracking, and Kyle doesn’t use a Telecaster, so that was another element of trying something new. The song was originally 18 minutes long, which is both a sacred number in Judaism and 6+6+6, but we cut it shorter for release (a longer version is available as a bonus track with the single).

It’s also the first time we did the cover art ourselves. We wanted this to be a really different and idiosyncratic effort from us – it’s a collage of some outer space photos and an old painting of a Lord Dunsany story. The song doesn’t tell a story, but it’s supposed to capture the feeling of relief and drama of watching a storm coming in during the hottest part of the day and just violently cooling everything off. You can feel the energy exchanging through the air and it’s both sublimely relaxing and crushingly powerful. You can smell it coming, and you can almost feel the plants and trees opening themselves to the storm. I guess you could call it a prayer or meditation on nature. Thank you for listening and we hope it takes you somewhere cool.

Virginia stoner metal band BOOK OF WYRMS will release their instrumental single “Sodapop Glacier” on October 26th via Desert Records. The song will be available on Bandcamp and all streaming platforms.

Pre-order: https://bookofwyrms.bandcamp.com/album/sodapop-glacier-single

Book of Wyrms are:
Bobby Hufnell – Drums and Percussion
Sarah Moore Lindsey – Vocals/ Synthesizer
Jay “Jake” Lindsey – Bass/ Synthesizer
Kyle Lewis – Guitar

Book of Wyrms, Occult New Age (2021)

Book of Wyrms on Instagram

Book of Wyrms on Facebook

Book of Wyrms on Bandcamp

Desert Records on Instagram

Desert Records on Facebook

Desert Records on Bandcamp

Richmond, Virginia, noisegazers Twin Drugs release their second album, In Now Less Than Ever, on Oct. 7 through Crazysane Records, and with it, they proffer a twisted-reality psychedelia not so much to escape the vagaries of the daily trudge as to portray them in all their offsetting infliction. With 10 songs and 45 minutes that loop and drum/drum-machine like Godflesh and Jesu put together while running guitars and whatever the hell that is in “We Want Our Heaven” through a Sonic Youth-ian vision of post-everything noise — also they’re heavy — the trio of guitarist/vocalist Blake Melton, bassist Christian Monroe and drummer/electronicsist Alex Wilson hold a mirror up to where we are as a species and seem to ask if we’re living in an alternate timeline. The answer to that question, invariably, is yes.

At some point along what should have been our timeline — maybe it was Watergate, maybe it was the Challenger explosion, 20 years of needless war, 50 years of ignoring climate change, or someone stepping on the wrong bug a million years ago — humans branched off in a weird and mostly tragic direction. Not saying there aren’t upsides to existence, but if the pill-y tripped-out interlude “Fanfare” ahead of the bombastic assertions of “Eyelets and Aglets” is anything to go by, Twin Drugs know that at some point yet to be identified, the species took a turn from what had been its logical course of progress and we’ve been shitting the bed ever since. There’s some mourning, perhaps, in In Now Less Than Ever, but in post-modern style, the wash of “Ash Candied Cough” begins the album with a post-apocalyptic soundscape underscored by repeating swirls; you, out there amid the whipping dust of the wasteland.

Speaking of dust, the later stomp and cacophony of “Dust Worship” takes the more-flat-teeth bite of “World Fell Off” and turns it to a definitive gnash, and as much as Melton‘s quiet melodic vocals — all things ‘gaze are having a moment; don’t be mad about it; just be glad no one’s yelling at you right this second — tie the proceedings together along with that atmosphere of we-took-songwriting-and-bent-it-this-way, there is a spectrum of muted colors being explored through these sounds. All tinted grey, maybe, but pinks and greens and a kind of brownish yellow in “The Velvet Noise,” textured in three aural dimensions; length, width, depth. You could lose a day reading about the mathematics being seemingly referenced in “Room 110,” the relationship between chaos and proof-based order, but the drumless effects/synth wash seems to get the point across without lyrics, answering the caustic beginning of “Ash Candied Cough” with a more meditative, resolute sadness.

Though it feels conclusive, “Room 110” isn’t the end of In Now Less Than Ever. The closing duo “Sazerac” (6:00) and “The Sun While You Can” (7:14) make their own gravy on side B with post-noise sway, charge, and exhaustion in the former and unsafe-at-any-volume volatility in the latter, Melton‘s vocals barely discernible as they seem to be swallowed up by the rising tide of the finale’s midsection. They go quietly on a fade after a burst of intensity marked by particularly gutted-out drumming, but the message by then has been thoroughly delivered. And I hate to argue, but as I look at unprecedented storm surge destroying lives and livelihoods, wildfires burning centuries-old forests, the rise of fascism here in America and abroad, the very oceans dying and no one gives a fuck because capitalism, two years of plague to the point that everyone just kind of gave up (myself included), I think Twin Drugs are very, very much ‘in now.’ If that’s less than ever, it’s still plenty. They’ve captured the warped zeitgeist of right now. As such, don’t expect an easy listen.

And as for the whole living-in-an-alternate-timeline thing: First of all, we should be so lucky to have reality be unreal. Second, doesn’t matter anyway. Just do your best not to be a dick. Thanks for reading.

You’ll find In Now Less Than Ever streaming on the player below, followed by more background from the PR wire.

Please enjoy:

Twin Drugs, In Now Less Than Ever album premiere

ORDER LIMITED VINYL AND CD HERE: http://www.crazysanerecords.com/shop​

Noisy shoegazers TWIN DRUGS return with their self-produced sophomore album, taking their brand of ‘maximalist’ shoegaze in a more brooding, introspective direction. “Being a prepper is normal these days,” says main-songwriter Blake Melton (guitars & vocals), concisely capturing the decay of our modern world. Hailing from Richmond, VA, the trio originally set out to combine the dreamy atmospheres of My Bloody Valentine with the punishing riffing of Metz to create an upbeat and energetic experience of sound. However, upon being confronted with the increasing complexity of life throughout the years, the band made a decisive take a turn for the darker.

“Covid is just one grain of sand in the hourglass of general existential anxiety,” Melton continues, referring to the increasing complexity and ambiguity of our lives in an age of mass-deception, proxy wars and global panic. Inspired by cosmic horror and the near-psychedelic archival footage compilations of British documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis, Melton, together with bandmates Alex Wilson (drums, live-electronics) and Christian Monroe (bass), collages the band’s own image of a world in decay. Mastered to perfection by Cult of Luna’s Magnus Lindberg and with cover art by Christopher Royal King (Symbol, ex-This Will Destroy You), In Now Less Than Ever is a complete experience that creeps up on you like only existential dread can.

In Now Less Than Ever merges two distinct approaches to distortion (shoegaze and noise rock) to create a mind-altering experience that is as much about dreaming on as it is about waking up. The familiarity of found audio extracts, ranging from Indian flute players to obscure Japanese jazz bands, blends with subtle shifts in rhythm, creating a fitting experience of the world’s structural ambiguity. Using noise to induce a turbulent trip and soothing vocals for an indefinite high, TWIN DRUGS take you on a hallucinogenic voyage, conjuring from the haze – images of an oppressive hidden reality.

Twin Drugs on Instagram

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Twin Drugs on Twitter

Twin Drugs on Bandcamp

Crazysane Records website

Crazysane Records on Facebook

Crazysane Records on Bandcamp

Day three, passing the quarter mark of the Quarterly Review, halfway through the week. This is usually the point where my brain locks itself into this mode and I find that even in any other posts where I’m doing actual writing I need to think about I default to this kind of trying-to-encapsulate-a-thing-in-not-a-million-words mindset, for better or worse. Usually a bit of both, I guess. Today’s also all over the place, so if you’re feeling brave, today’s the day to really dig in. As always, I hope you enjoy. If not, more coming tomorrow. And the day after. And then again on Monday. And so on.

Quarterly Review #21-30:

Nadja, Labyrinthine

The second full-length of 2022 from the now-Berlin-based experimental two-piece Nadja — as ever, Leah Buckareff and Aidan Baker — is a four-song collaborative work on which each piece features a different vocalist. In guesting roles are Alan Dubin, formerly of Khantate/currently of Gnaw, Esben and the Witch‘s Rachel Davies, Lane Shi Otayonii of Elizabeth Colour Wheel and Full of Hell‘s Dylan Walker. Given these players and their respective pedigrees, it should not be hard to guess that Labyrinthine begins and ends ferocious, but Nadja by no means reserve the harshness of noise solely for the dudely contingent. The 17-minute “Blurred,” with Otayonii crooning overtop, unfurls a consuming wash of noise that, true, eventually fades toward a more definitive droner of a riff, but sure enough returns as a crescendo later on. Dubin is unmistakable on the opening title-track, and while Davies‘ “Rue” runs only 12 minutes and is the most conventionally listenable of the inclusions on the whole, even its ending section is a voluminous blowout of abrasive speaker destruction. Hey, you get what you get. As for Nadja, they should get one of those genius grants I keep hearing so much about.

Nadja website

Nadja on Bandcamp

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London Odense Ensemble, Jaiyede Sessions Vol. 1

El Paraiso Records alert! London Odense Ensemble features Jonas Munk (guitar, production), Jakob Skøtt (drums, art) and Martin Rude (sometimes bass) of Danish psych masters Causa Sui — they’re the Odense part — and London-based saxophonist/flutist Tamar Osborn and keyboardist/synthesist Al MacSween, and if they ever do a follow-up to Jaiyede Sessions Vol. 1, humanity will have to mark itself lucky, because the psych-jazz explorations here are something truly special. On side A they present the two-part “Jaiyede Suite” with lush krautrock rising to the level of improv-sounding astro-freakout before the ambient-but-still-active “Sojourner” swells and recedes gracefully, and side B brings the 15-minute “Enter Momentum,” which is as locked in as the title might lead one to believe and then some and twice as free, guitar and sax conversing fluidly throughout the second half, and the concluding “Celestial Navigation,” opening like a sunrise and unfolding with a playful balance of sax and guitar and synth over the drums, the players trusting each other to ultimately hold it all together as of course they do. Not for everybody, but peaceful even in its most active moments, Jaiyede Sessions Vol. 1 is yet another instrumental triumph for the El Paraiso camp. Thankfully, they haven’t gotten bored of them yet.

El Paraiso Records on Facebook

El Paraiso Records store

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Omen Stones, Omen Stones

True, most of these songs have been around for a few years. All eight of the tracks on Omen Stones‘ 33-minute self-titled full-length save for “Skin” featured on the band’s 2019 untitled outing (an incomplete version of which was reviewed here in 2018), but they’re freshly recorded, and the message of Omen Stones being intended as a debut album comes through clearly in the production and the presentation of the material generally, and from ragers like “Fertile Blight” and the aforementioned “Skin,” which is particularly High on Fire-esque, to the brash distorted punk (until it isn’t) of “Fresh Hell” and the culminating nod and melody dare of “Black Cloud,” the key is movement. The three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Tommy Hamilton (Druglord), bassist Ed Fierro (Tel) and drummer Erik Larson (Avail, Alabama Thunderpussy, etc. ad infinitum) are somewhere between riff-based rock and metal, but carry more than an edge of sludge-nasty in their tones and Hamilton‘s sometimes sneering vocals such that Omen Stones ends up like the hardest-hitting, stoner-metal-informed grunge record that ever got lost from 1994. Then you get into “Secrete,” and have to throw the word ‘Southern’ into the mix because of that guitar lick, and, well, maybe it’s better to put stylistic designations to the side for the time being. A ripper with pedigree is a ripper nonetheless.

Omen Stones on Facebook

Omen Stones on Bandcamp

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Jalayan, Floating Islands

Proggy, synth-driven instrumentalist space rock is the core of what Italy’s Jalayan bring forward on the 45-minute Floating Islands, with guitar periodically veering into metallic-style riffing but ultimately pushed down in the mix to let the keyboard work of band founder Alessio Malatesta (who also recorded) breathe as it does. That balance is malleable throughout, as the band shows early between “Tilmun” and “Nemesis,” and if you’re still on board the ship by the time you get to the outer reaches of “Stars Stair” — still side A, mind you — then the second full-length from the Lesmo outfit will continue to offer thrills as “Fire of Lanka” twists and runs ambience and intensity side by side and “Colliding Orbits” dabbles in space-jazz with New Age’d keyboards, answering some of what featured earlier on “Edination.” The penultimate “Narayanastra” has a steadier rock beat behind it and so feels more straightforward, but don’t be fooled, and at just under seven minutes, “Shem Temple” closes the proceedings with a clear underscoring the dug-in prog vibe, similar spacey meeting with keys-as-sitar in the intro as the band finds a middle ground between spirit and space. There are worlds being made here, as Malatesta leads the band through these composed, considered-feeling pieces united by an overarching cosmic impulse.

Jalayan on Facebook

Sound Effect Records store

Adansonia Records store

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Las Cruces, Cosmic Tears

Following 12 years on the heels and hells of 2010’s Dusk (review here), San Antonio, Texas, doomers Las Cruces return with the classic-style doom metal of Cosmic Tears, and if you think a hour-long album is unmanageable in the day and age of 35-minute-range vinyl attention spans, you’re right, but that’s not the vibe Las Cruces are playing to, and it’s been over a decade, so calm down. Founding guitarist George Trevino marks the final recorded performance of drummer Paul DeLeon, who passed away last year, and welcomes vocalist Jason Kane to the fold with a showcase worthy of comparison to Tony Martin on songs like “Stay” and the lumbering “Holy Hell,” with Mando Tovar‘s guitar and Jimmy Bell‘s bass resulting in riffs that much thicker. Peer to acts like Penance and others working in the post-Hellhound Records sphere, Las Cruces are more grounded than Candlemass but reach similar heights on “Relentless” and “Egyptian Winter,” with classic metal as the thread that runs throughout the whole offering. A welcome return.

Las Cruces on Facebook

Ripple Music store

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The Freeks, Miles of Blues

Kind of a sneaky album. Like, shh, don’t tell anybody. As I understand it, the bulk of The Freeks‘ nine-tracker Miles of Blues is collected odds and ends — the first four songs reportedly going to be used for a split at some point — and the two-minute riff-and-synth funk-jam “Maybe It’s Time” bears that out in feeling somewhat like half a song, but with the barroom-brawler-gone-to-space “Jaqueline,” the willfully kosmiche “Wag the Fuzz,” which does what “Maybe It’s Time” does, but feels more complete in it, and the 11-minute interstellar grandiosity of “Star Stream,” the 41-minute release sure sounds like a full-length to me. Ruben Romano (formerly Nebula and Fu Manchu) and Ed Mundell (ex-Monster Magnet) are headlining names, but at this point The Freeks have established a particular brand of bluesy desert psych weirdness, and that’s all over “Real Gone” — which, yes, goes — and the rougher garage push of “Played for Keeps,” which should offer thrills to anyone who got down with Josiah‘s latest. Self-released, pressed to CD, probably not a ton made, Miles of Blues is there waiting for you now so that you don’t regret missing it later. So don’t miss it, whether it’s an album or not.

The Freeks on Facebook

The Freeks website

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Duncan Park, In the Floodplain of Dreams

South Africa-based self-recording folk guitarist Duncan Park answers his earlier-2022 release, Invoking the Flood (review here), with the four pieces of In the Floodplain of Dreams, bringing together textures of experimentalist guitar with a foundation of hillside acoustic on opener and longest track (immediate points) “In the Mountains of Sour Grass,” calling to mind some of Six Organs of Admittance‘s exploratory layering, while “Howling at the Moon” boasts more discernable vocals (thankfully not howls) and “Ballad for the Soft Green Moss” highlights the self-awareness of the evocations throughout — it is green, organic, understated, flowing — and the closing title-track reminisces about that time Alice in Chains put out “Don’t Follow” and runs a current of drone behind its central guitar figure to effectively flesh out the this-world-as-otherworld vibe, devolving into (first) shred and (then) noise as the titular dream seems to give way to a harsher reality. So be it. Honestly, if Park wants to go ahead and put out a collection like this every six months or so into perpetuity, that’d be just fine. The vocals here are a natural development from the prior release, and an element that one hopes continue to manifest on the next one.

Duncan Park on Facebook

Ramble Records store

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MuN, Presomnia

Crushing and atmospheric in kind, Poland’s MuN released Presomnia through Piranha Music in 2020 as their third full-length. I’m not entirely sure why it’s here, but it’s in my notes and the album’s heavy like Eastern European sadness, so screw it. Comprised of seven songs running 43 minutes, it centers around that place between waking and sleep, where all the fun lucid dreaming happens and you can fly and screw and do whatever else you want in your own brain, all expressed through post-metallic lumber and volume trades, shifting and building in tension as it goes, vocals trading between cleaner sung stretches and gut-punch growls. The layered guitar solo on “Arthur” sounds straight out of the Tool playbook, but near everything else around is otherwise directed and decidedly more pummeling. At least when it wants to be. Not a complaint, either way. The heft of chug in “Deceit” is of a rare caliber, and the culmination in the 13-minute “Decree” seems to use every bit of space the record has made prior in order to flesh out its melancholic, contemplative course. Much to their credit, after destroying in the midsection of that extended piece, MuN make you think they’re bringing it back around again at the end, and then don’t. Because up yours for expecting things. Still the “Stones From the Sky” riff as they come out of that midsection, though. Guess you could do that two years ago.

MuN on Facebook

Piranha Music on Bandcamp

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Elliott’s Keep, Vulnerant Omnes

I’ve never had the fortune of seeing long-running Dallas trio Elliott’s Keep live, but if ever I did and if at least one of the members of the band — bassist/vocalist Kenneth Greene, guitarist Jonathan Bates, drummer Joel Bates — wasn’t wearing a studded armband, I think I might be a little disappointed. They know their metal and they play their metal, exclusively. Comprised of seven songs, Vulnerant Omnes is purposefully dark, able to shift smoothly between doom and straight-up classic heavy metal, and continuing a number of ongoing themes for the band: it’s produced by J.T. Longoria, titled in Latin (true now of all five of their LPs), and made in homage to Glenn Riley Elliott, who passed away in 2004 but features here on the closer “White Wolf,” a cover of the members’ former outfit, Marauder, that thrashes righteously before dooming out as though they knew someday they’d need it to tie together an entire album for a future band. Elsewhere, “Laughter of the Gods” and the Candlemassian “Every Hour” bleed their doom like they’ve cut their hand to swear an oath of fealty, and the pre-closer two-parter “Omnis Pretium (Fortress I)” and “Et Sanguinum (Fortress II)” speaks to an age when heavy metal was for fantasy-obsessed miscreants and perceived devil worshipers. May we all live long enough to see that particular sun rise again. Until then, an eternal “fucking a” to Elliott’s Keep.

Elliott’s Keep on Facebook

NoSlip Records store

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Cachemira, Ambos Mundos

Sometime between their 2017 debut, Jungla (review here), and the all-fire-even-the-slow-parts boogie and comprises the eight-song/35-minute follow-up Ambos Mundos, Barcelona trio Cachemira parted ways with bassist Pol Ventura and brought in Claudia González Díaz of The Mothercrow to handle low end and lead vocals alongside guitarist/now-backing vocalist Gaston Lainé (Brain Pyramid) and drummer Alejandro Carmona Blanco (Prisma Circus), reaffirming the band’s status as a legit powerhouse while also being something of a reinvention. Joined by guest organist Camille Goellaen on a bunch of the songs and others on guitar, Spanish guitar and congas, Ambos Mundos scorches softshoe and ’70s vibes with a modern confidence and thickness of tone that put to use amid the melodies of “Dirty Roads” are sweeping and pulse-raising all at once. The name of the record translates to ‘both worlds,’ and the closing title-track indeed brings together heavy fuzz shuffle and handclap-laced Spanish folk (and guitar) that is like pulling back the curtain on what’s been making you dance this whole time. It soars and spins heads until everybody falls down dizzy. If they were faking, it’d fall flat. It doesn’t. At all. More please.

Cachemira on Thee Facebooks

Heavy Psych Sounds store

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Erik Larson has put out no fewer than four full-lengths in the last 10 months, plus one EP. Last September, the Richmond, Virginia, solo artist and Southern heavy maestro offered up Favorite Iron, Siste Latter and the Measwe EP (reviews here) with no fanfare or real leadup — first they weren’t there and then they were. Red Lines, his latest work, and Everything Breaks, which was released earlier this year, follow a roughly similar pattern, though there was an announcement first. As ever for the multi-instrumentalist/vocalist — whose many-tiered pedigree includes drumming for the likes of Avail, Axehandle, Hail!Hornet, Backwoods Payback and currently Thunderchief and Omen Stones, playing guitar in the soon-to-play-a-reunion-gig Alabama Thunderpussy, as well as The Mighty Nimbus, Birds of Prey, The Might Could, and a slew of others — the records he puts out under his own name are songwriting catalogs, and there’s little ego in them needing to be fed by hype. Red Lines, which runs nine songs/45 minutes, and Everything Breaks, nine songs/50 minutes, both follow and break patterns as Larson‘s seventh and eighth long-players (that counts Siste Latter as a full album), working in established songwriting modes while branching out in terms of structure and dynamic.

As regards bands, Larson could easily be one by himself and has on multiple prior occasions, so it’s noteworthy that part of the point of these two latest offerings is partnerships. In the case of Red Lines, it’s with “Minnesota Pete” Campbell (Pentagram, Vulgaari, Place of Skulls, The Mighty Nimbus, etc.), who drums and produces while Larson handles guitar, bass and vocals. The two players, obviously familiar with each other from past collaborations, work with unquestionable fluidity across cuts like the sneering groover “Walk Around Blade,” the hi-hat-up-front “Spilling Over” and the if-grunge-had-happened-in-Virginia “Strike the Never” and “Dangerously,” quieter-strummed-at-the-start-but-wait-for-it “Halo” and the minute-long, ends-with-howls-and-crashes punker “The Jeff Song” with lyrics by Erik‘s son, Stig Larson.

Sandwiched between two six-and-a-half-minute tracks — “Halo” is the  in opener “Nomen est Omen” and the finale “Yeah, Well Fuck You Too,” Red Lines unfolds as a masterclass in Southern heavy rock and roll and one would expect no less. Acoustic guitar is woven throughout, and centerpiece “Dangerously” is strummed in clean electric tones and leads into “You’re Welcome,” which likewise follows a moderated path in comparison to earlier bruisers like “Strike the Never” and “Spilling Over,” as well as the aforementioned “Nomen est Omen,” which launches the album with one of its most vital grooves as it snakes through its second half, but that dynamic is part of the point, as well as the pairing-up of friends to make a record.

Between those two factors and the crashes that punctuate “Yea, Well Fuck You Too” before the next forward run takes off, it becomes apparent just how smoothly Larson and Campbell work together. In listening to Red Lines, it’s easy to imagine them touring as a duo — or trio with a bassist, if they wanted — but whatever comes of their chemistry on record or on stage, in this incarnation or another, as much as it’s drawn from the underlying foundation of Larson‘s songwriting, the spirit and vitality of the material on Red Lines is clearly born from the strength of that partnership. And that theme even more defines Everything Breaks, which was titled in honor of drums themselves — constantly breaking — and finds Larson embracing what seems like a certain logistical nightmare of recording each of the nine inclusions with a different drummer.

For reference, the tracklisting:

1. Eon Eater (w/ Alex Tomlin of Battlemaster)
2. Truncheon (w/ Lance Koehler, who also co-produced)
3. Never Eva Eva (w/ Chris DeHaven of Book of Wyrms)
4. A Drop In The Bucket (w/ Mark Miley, engineer for ATP, Gwar, many others)
5. Can’t Be Bought (w/ Tim Barry of Avail)
6. Bested (w/ Bryan Cox of ATP)
7. ARRESSS (w/ Ryan Parrish of Darkest Hour, Iron Reagan, etc.)
8. Krusher (w/ Dave Witte of Municipal Waste, etc.)
9. Ripoff (w/ Jordan Faett of Paper Trail)

Not a minor undertaking, and from the catchy urgency of opener “Eon Eater” into “Truncheon” — which seems to reference Aerosmith‘s “Ragdoll” in its verse either consciously or not — through “Never Eva Eva” and into the seven-minute “A Drop in the Bucket,” the shifts in rhythmic persona put Larson perhaps inadvertently in the center as the unifying factor. In comparison to Red Lines, Everything Breaks is more outwardly heavy on average — that is, where the middle of the later release leaves behind some of its initial distorted revelry — the closest Everything Breaks comes to following suit is in its own centerpiece, “Can’t Be Bought.”

But even those milder, clean-sung verses (maybe with Barry on backing vocals?) give way to louder rolling hooks and a layered in lead line that’s got me wondering if there’s actually organ on it or if I’m just hearing things. “Bested” and “ARRESS,” which follow, are crushers, and “Krusher” — because go figure — is more of a straight-up heavy rock groove, and while closer “Ripoff” runs eight minutes around a riff that may or may not be copped from ZZ Top and if it is, then fair enough for the nod it becomes in the hands of Larson and Faett. It’s the longest track across these two outings, and riding that riff as it does it could easily go longer.

It has to be mentioned that the drummers with whom Larson works on Everything Breaks are at least reasonably local, and the record is as much a celebration of Richmond’s creative sprawl and vibrant underground history — of which Larson, it also bears mentioning, is part — as it is of its own craft or anything else. I don’t know how long it was in the making, but if on some level Everything Breaks — a title I read both as complaint and boast about drumming — is to serve as Larson‘s hometown homage, then the grit of his delivery throughout feeds into that.

Maybe these two releases are just a case of Larson wanting to make records with people he knows, but after working almost entirely on his own in Siste Latter and Favorite Iron — Faett and Buddy Bryant drummed on Measwe — to have Red Lines and Everything Breaks so pointedly move in the opposite direction feels like a purposeful choice. One more way in which the seemingly impossible logic of never quite knowing where Larson will end up next but consistently being able to rely on the quality of his work comes to fruition. Or two ways, I suppose.

Erik Larson, Everything Breaks (2022)

Erik Larson, Red Lines (2022)

Erik Larson on Bandcamp

Omen Stones on Facebook

Thunderchief on Facebook