[Click play above to stream Temple Fang’s Live at Freak Valley in its entirety. Album is out on CD April 21 through Stickman Records with preorders available here and through Electric Spark/Right on Mountain on LP with preorders available here.]

Temple Fang were smack in the middle of the fourth and final day of 2022’s Freak Valley Festival, Saturday, June 18. Their set (review here) was the centerpiece of the lineup, and by the time they went on, the assembled masses had long since been sun-baked and ear-blasted in a celebration of heavy vibe unto itself. The narrative — blessings and peace upon it — goes that just before being introduced by Volker Fröhmer, whose robust “liebe freunden” greets bands and fans alike in announcing each act to hit the stage and is a part of the ritual itself and features on many of the Live at Freak Valley-type releases but is absent here, the Amsterdam four-piece scrapped the setlist they were going to play.

Maybe it was material from their 2021 studio debut, Fang Temple (review here), or the then-unreleased Jerusalem/The Bridge EP (review here) that came out at the end of last year, but either way, they put it aside in favor of “Grace,” a yet-unrecorded single piece that would comprise the entirety of their set. Recorded by Niek Manders, the Stickman-backed Live at Freak Valley presents “Grace” in in full breadth, feeling likewise bold and searching in its approach as its circa-45-minute run holds sway in a series of builds and crashes, meditative and consuming in a way that live music, especially outside on a sunny day, can’t always be. By no means alone in this regard for that long weekend, it was nonetheless a beautiful, affirming moment to be alive.

Comprised of guitarist/vocalist Jevin de Groot, bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer, guitarist/keyboardist Ivy van der Veer (who also sings a little here) and drummer Egon Loosveldt, Temple Fang have — including Live at Freak Valley — now issued four live albums in the last three years, starting with 2020’s Live at Merleyn (review here) that was their first release. Put in a ratio to studio recordings, that’s four-to-one, at least as regards LPs; though I’ll gladly argue that Jerusalem/The Bridge wanted nothing for substance, so if it’s four-to-two, fine. Still, let that math — which gets even murkier when one considers the live-recorded basic tracks of Fang Temple — stand as testament to their ethic as a group and, amid the other narrative surrounding Live at Freak Valley, serve as a demonstration of their priorities.

At least thus far into their tenure and as much as has been possible over the last few years, they’re a live band. That they’d even be comfortable enough to step out on a stage and play a 45-minute-long song to a crowd that’s never heard it before supports the argument, let alone that they would consider releasing it afterward or that “Grace” unfolds in such a patient manner, fluidly shifting in volume and dynamic before its sweeping final movement, a multi-tiered apex with a subtly doomed riff at its foundation that turns to space rock and airy comedown lead work before another soloing tonal-wash crescendo. I don’t know if it was the first time Temple Fang had broken out “Grace” at a show, but standing in front of the stage and watching it happen at Freak Valley, it certainly felt like a landmark for them, which this release seals it as being.

Would it be too on-the-nose to call “Grace” graceful? Probably. But while the nature of from-stage recordings is such that the sundry little bumps and flubs along the way that go almost universally unnoticed by the crowd (and can define an evening for the band in question, whoever it might be) become part of the finished product, and that’s invariably the case here as well, the slow rise of effects noise and cymbals that begins it and shifts within two minutes to anticipatory howls of guitar set as fitting a scene as one could hope for what follows, in range as well as methodical delivery. Loosveldt‘s drums enter after the third minute with Duijnhouwer‘s bass, one guitar softly noodling, the other holding to undulating swells of manipulated feedback as they immerse the audience  in the song-in-progress seemingly before it’s even started.

The first verse is Duijnhouwer‘s, and like the rest of “Grace,” it is rolled out gently, complemented by dual-channel echoing guitar solos from one lyrical stanza to the next, de Groot joining on vocals to deliver what no one knew then was the title of the song in a next-stage kind of arrival that more fully reveals the build that’s been taking place all the while beneath the entrancing sounds on the surface, consciousness buried but by no means absent from the proceedings, just sort of placed to the side in favor of the invitation to the crowd to get lost early and stay that way for the duration. Bass and drums hold steady as the guitar drops the scorch to allow the next verse to begin. Nine minutes have passed, whatever time used to mean, and they get back to what’s now revealed itself as the chorus, and at 10:30, a vocal culmination is met by a heavy surge, winding soloing from de Groot underscoring that first build’s payoff stretch.

It is, as noted, not the last. A jazzy flow distinguishes the next movement of “Grace,” making a Pink Floyd comparison feel both lazy and necessary as it re-coalesces and moves into more angular guitar on either side of the 18-minute mark, and though they hit into some improv-sounding urgency about five-to-six minutes later, they emerge unscathed from the freakout — Loosveldt at the foundation, as ever — as they pass 26 minutes into the track, and from there set up the massive ending noted above, fully hypnotic in going to ground and engrossing in the construction from there, the sense of destination apparent even as the journey there continues as from about 30 minutes on, Temple Fang are fully dug into this procession to be realized from there out, the weight of the lumber a few minutes later nod-rolling until more active guitar kicks in for the outward launch and carries through the (spoiler alert) false peak before they actually get to the top of that (right on) mountain, ending with a brief bit of serenity as they look out from it and see how far they’ve come before a noisy finish reinforces the point.

In releasing “Grace” on Live at Freak Valley, Temple Fang give the moment its due ceremony. The video of the set (filmed by Rockpalast) has been available for some time, but the capture of the song pressed on plastic feels especially crucial in light of the scope of the piece itself, and for those who were there, should be considered nothing less than essential. No brainer. Likewise, if you’ve followed Temple Fang to this juncture, “Grace” comes through as a significant forward step in a hopefully continuing progression of chemistry and craft, and while the single-song-album may be an endgame for many longform acts — one recalls de Groot and Duijnhouwer‘s decade-ago cosmic doom project Mühr offering the 47-minute one-tracker LP, Messiah (discussed here; review here), as their final outing in 2013; this isn’t that in sound or purpose, but it’s a relevant example given the personnel — Temple Fang seem to have found a place from which they can keep exploring, regardless of how long whatever they do next might end up being or not.

So maybe it wasn’t the set they had planned on playing, but Temple Fang‘s will to follow their instinct and bring “Grace” to life in front of the Freak Valley crowd more than earns this preservation. It was one in a weekend of righteous performances, but something special that comes through on Live at Freak Valley as shared between artists, art, and audience that now can stand even longer.

Temple Fang, Live at Freak Valley Festival 2022

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One could not accuse Temple Fang of not making the most of their 2022. In addition to following the late-2021 release of their debut album, Fang Temple (review here), with a vinyl issue through Electric Spark this past Spring, signing to Stickman Records to release the 2CD just last month, touring and making stops at the likes of Roadburn, Freak Valley (review here) and frickin’ Duna Jam, releasing 2020’s Live at Merleyn (review here) on tape and hosting their own inaugural Right on Mountain Festival in Nijmegen, the Amsterdam-based four-piece will wrap the year on Nov. 29 — tomorrow — by issuing Jerusalem/The Bridge, a 21-minute, two-song offering on Electric Spark and Right on Mountain that pushes their sound even further.

And in fascinating ways. They offer the narrative below, and the timing is a little opaque, but as the band — guitarist/vocalist Jevin de Groot, bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer, guitarist/pianist Ivy van der Veer and drummer Egon Loosveldt — looked to integrate Loosveldt into the lineup, it seems they essentially did so by writing together. “Jerusalem” (10:04) and “The Bridge” (11:44) came about as a part of that. They had already moved forward from Fang Temple, the basic tracks for which were taken from live recordings, and though they were ostensibly touring to support that album, would head out with new songs in tow, and having seen them perform live this summer, I can tell you first hand that what they present on stage is a vision of cosmic psychedelia very much their own.

“Jerusalem” and “The Bridge” capture an emerging duality in progress, structurally and in terms of presentation. Duijnhouwer and de Groot switch out as lead vocalists between the two, and each has a strong persona coming through the material. For Duijnhouwer, he fronts the mellow-space-riffer “Jerusalem” very much in command of the proceedings, not a krautrock auteur — the band’s vibe is too collaborative for such things — but aware of the audience and mindful of the engagement of the listener. a A hairy roll of groove is duly underscored by righteous-punch bass, and a verse/chorus pattern unfolds, molten but catchy, across the song’s first half before a short break of guitar introduces the build on which they’re about to embark.

Enter van der Meer on piano — an element one does not expect (or hope, for that matter) Temple Fang are utilizing for the last time — as an essential part of the lush fluidity that ensues. In plotted but exploratory fashion — that is, they know where they’re going even if they’re willing to throw in a few turns en route — the band coalesce toward a mini-apex, a dropdown and rebuild, pushed into prog territory by Loosveldt‘s snare work alone, never mind the trades in guitar lines between de Groot and van der Meer or the winding conclusion that seems to end the song suddenly despite the distance traveled. “Jerusalem” is vibrant, a push in tempo and rhythm but not a shove, memorable in its early chorus, and it insists on nothing because it doesn’t need to. By the time they’re done with it, the case is well and gorgeously made.

“The Bridge” also has a build, but is less business-up-front-party-in-the-back (the mullet structure) in enacting it. There’s little hint early of the consuming wash of distortion to come, but a standalone guitar introduction clues the listener immediately to the shift toward outright exploration. There are verses, a chorus of sorts, but as de Groot takes over on vocals, with Duijnhouwer seeming to answer each measure of the initial echoing vocal lines on bass, the direction is handwriting-on-page lyrically and there’s a patience in how the track plays out that feels like a departure from “Jerusalem” even as the tonal richness of the guitar and bass is consistent. A second-ish verse is backed by headphone-ready, am-I-imagining-this whispers circa the five-minute mark as the volume continues to grow into the chorus, and it’s when the howl of lead guitar starts that the song reveals its full scope.

The great irony of “The Bridge” is that it never really lets go of its structure. But it sounds like it does. “Jerusalem,” on the other hand, drops the verse/chorus tradeoffs for an instrumental back end while coming across as more straightforward. This is Temple Fang. As “The Bridge” slow-careens through its somewhat understated payoff, it’s more about spiritual realization than pummeling volume, and the execution remains dynamic — which is to say, it’s not like they get to a riff, ride it out for four or eight lines and end the song; there’s more happening — and Loosveldt and Duijnhouwer hold the central progression together even as the guitars seem intent on pulling it apart at around eight minutes in. There’s a comedown, a quick resurgence, and over bass and sparse guitar, de Groot ends with cyclical recitations of the chorus lyric; the band letting go with gentleness that probably shouldn’t be as surprising as it is.

It is a tale of the going and the gone, and what does any of it mean? Well, we exist in an incomprehensible universe that’s either expanding around us at all times every single atom or perhaps already contracting in an unstoppable crush of everything and who the hell even knows. So what does anything mean? We live, maybe, and we die. Maybe there’s solace in that truth — it is a thing to know — but if you want to talk about rock and roll, it means that Temple Fang have left Fang Temple behind, and that their first album, glorious as it was, was not the sum total of what they have to offer by a longshot in sound or style. Not one for betting, but I’d wager Jerusalem/The Bridge isn’t either, and rather that the real heart of the band is in the process of manifestation, the sheer creativity itself. However they choose to interact with their audience, whatever route they take to entrancing the crowd before them, real or imagined, it is the journey that will define them and the journey that they’re for and with which they’re searching and communing.

Jerusalem/The Bridge is streaming in its entirety on the player below, and I feel fortunate to host it ahead of the release tomorrow. The prior-alluded background follows in blue, courtesy of the band.

Thanks and enjoy:

When we found our new drummer Egon Loosveldt in August of 2021 we had 5 weeks with him to prepare for the upcoming run of shows we had booked, the first ‘real’ shows after the pandemic.

Because our first ever jams with him were so inspired, instead of teaching him the old songs we decided we were gonna go off the deep end and write a totally new set of material, a bit of a risky move as we didn’t know how audiences were going to react to us playing all new stuff but a decision essential to us as a band and what we hold sacred, the music and the moment.

We also knew, as the official tour started in April 2022, we wanted to hit the road hard and therefore wouldn’t have time to do much recording. However, when we heard our beloved Galloway Studios in Nijmegen was to be demolished and build back up from scratch at a different location, we knew we wanted one last chance to record there. So in May 2022, after doing three shows in Switzerland and Austria, we drove 700+ miles from Graz to Nijmegen, set up our backline and recorded what was essentially our live set at the time while the building around us was being torn down, slowly covering everything in a layer of dust.

The two songs on this EP represent two different poles of Temple Fang. Sung by Dennis, Side A (“Jerusalem”) is a hard hitter, born from the original sessions with Egon and featuring a surprise turn on piano from Ivy. This take was done right after setting up our gear and checking sounds, the only one we ended up doing of this song.

Sung by Jevin, Side B (“The Bridge”) was a song we had been kicking around for a while, originally intended for “Fang Temple” but not fully realised until a few weeks before this tour. A slow-burner, harboring a lot of tension and not much release. Thanks for listening, XO DD/TF

Jerusalem/The Bridge is released in an edition of 500 on black vinyl, 300 through Electric Spark and 200 through Right on Mountain. Digital through Stickman.

Produced, engineered and mixed by Sebastiaan van Bijlevelt at Galloway Studio, Nijmegen
Assistance by Niek Manders
Mastered by Alex McCollaugh at True East Mastering, Nashville
Art and Design by Right On Mountain
Music by Temple Fang

Temple Fang is:
Dennis Duijnhouwer: Vox, Bass
Jevin de Groot: Vox, Guitar
Ivy van der Veer: Guitar, Piano
Egon Loosveldt: Drums

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Electric Spark Records website

Right on Mountain on Facebook

The first outing from Amsterdam’s Temple Fang was the 2020 live album, Live at Merleyn (review here). Recorded in Oct. 2019, it was comprised of two extended pieces that showcased the Netherlands four-piece’s megacosmic psychedelia, a blend of atmospheres conjured through effects, gradual builds and patient craft. At that point, the band had already made an impression on Europe’s festival scene, having featured at Roadburn (review here) as well as Desertfest Belgium and being slated for a slew of subsequently-canceled/postponed 2020 festivals. Fang Temple, a 2LP issued through Right on Mountain and Electric Spark, is something closer to a studio debut, but its root is still in live performance, the band having snuck three sets between lockdown mandates on Dec. 13, 2020, at Db’s in Utrecht, recorded them, and subsequently used those as “basic tracks” to build the rest of the album around. So let us understand immediately, then, that Temple Fang‘s Fang Temple is not a record looking for rigid definition.

While the 79-minute offering from vocalist/guitarist Jevin de Groot (also synth/percussion), bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer (also guitar/synth), guitarist/pianist/percussionist Ivy van der Veer and drummer Jasper van den Broeke (since replaced by Egon Loosveldt) approaches what might be considered escape velocity for space rock in the final stretches of 22:15 closer “Not the Skull” — a somewhat shorter rendition of which capped Live at Merleyn as well — stretches like the gentle, minimal, ceremonial beginning of opener “Let it Go/When We Pray” (21:54) aren’t so easily accounted for in terms of style apart from vague catch-alls like progressive or psychedelic. Some of the guitar meandering, underscored by a firm foundation of bass, can be traced back to de Groot and Duijnhouwer‘s work together in the underrated cosmic doom outfit Mühr, but as the first verses in “Let it Go/When We Pray” begin the forward procession of that song’s two-part movement — the shift “Let it Go” to “When We Pray” follows a crescendo solo section and drift-out that happens between minutes 11 and 14 — they set up a passionate vocal delivery in both stretches that becomes an essential part of Fang Temple‘s identity, particularly as “When We Pray” transforms gospel blues into multi-hued celestial worship; the repeated line, “When we trust the hand of god,” arriving as a shared joy rather than an entreaty to conversion.

It is not the first nor the last beautiful moment on Fang Temple. In fact, the album is rife with little-seeming flourishes that might be passed over on one listen while a highlight of the next, whether it’s the percussion backing the Floyd-via-Motorpsycho prog unfurling of “A Strange Place to Land” (18:01) or the jazzy jab of guitar at 5:22 that just seems to have a bit extra behind it than the others around it. No surprise, immersion of the listener is part of the intention, but as with their longform runtimes, Temple Fang are working on a scale of their own — aided by Niek Manders, who recorded the live tracks, and engineer/mixer Sebastiaan van Bijlevet at Galloway Studios in Nijmegen; both also provided “extra instrumentation” — in terms of aesthetic reach, and even if one might drift in and out on the float of guitar interplay from de Groot and van der Veer throughout “A Strange Place to Land,” both the vocals and the rhythm section effectively complement with a hint toward structure, even as elements might come and go, as the drums do after crashing out 13 minutes into the second cut fading way back as the guitars and bass set the plotline for the song’s last linear build, which brings the vocals back as part of the payoff no less engaging than was that of “Let it Go/When We Pray.”

Is that a landing? Not really. Duijnhouwer‘s bass becomes the central piece of “The Knife” (the shortest song at 17:42), but one would still hardly call the proceedings grounded. If anything, bringing the bass more relatively forward allows the initial guitar lines and effects swirls to feel all the more exploratory. “A Strange Place to Land” doesn’t hit the same kind of intensity as “Not the Skull,” but neither is it completely languid, and across its first 10-plus minutes, “The Knife” makes it seem like a rager, and it’s to the band’s credit that even when they begin the louder stretch of their penultimate inclusion, they hold firm to the graceful manner in which their journey began, either on that song or in “Let it Go/When We Pray” nearly an hour earlier. As “The Knife” hits its swell, it remains melodically resonant and light in its swing, not insisting, inviting, ending with a final curiosity of guitar as if to ask if you’re ready yet to go where “Not the Skull” inevitably leads.

And yes, the closer is inevitably about its thrusters-fired breakout in the second half, but that’s not even the only climax in the song, let alone the album surrounding. In a fitting summary of the record proceeding, “Not the Skull” balances its urgency with serenity, and its plotted feel with an improvised, this-is-how-it-happened-this-day-tomorrow-might-be-different sensibility that can be heard in the drums and guitar before it hits its midpoint. Maybe that’s reading into it knowing that it was at least in part recorded live — they are a band aware of narrative and their own ability to set it — but it’s supported as well by the fact that Temple Fang to-date have two releases, “Not the Skull” is on both of them, and it’s changed from one to the next. Further, “Not the Skull” does not neglect the finer details and nuances wrought by the songs before it, and even as the wash gives way to feedback ahead of the fireball about to be launched — have I mentioned that last payoff yet? — the hum feels mindful and no less purposeful than what follows as it relates to Fang Temple as a whole. It must have been quite a show last December.

As to Temple Fang‘s plans to return to touring or festivals or whatnot, I don’t know, but there is no question Fang Temple draws benefit from its methodology. The energy. The substance and the ethereal. The chemistry. They’ll be a different band their next time out, should such a thing happen, but with as much fervency as they deliver these songs, it’s hard to imagine they won’t want to push themselves further.

Temple Fang, Fang Temple (2021)

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I wanted to listen to the Temple Fang album before writing about it, and now, having listened to it — it’s called Fang Temple and they put it out digitally the other day ahead of a vinyl release sometime in 2022 — all I want to do is review it. Hearing the thing is not a minor undertaking — its four tracks run a statistically significant 79 minutes, and the amount of journey they pack into that time supercedes, well, certainly whatever else you were going to do with your afternoon.

So I guess I’ll be finding a day to review it. This week? Maybe. Depends on how many chunks of 79 minutes I can devote to listening. Not that you’re holding your breath, I know, but I do feel a certain sense of urgency to talk about it, which is always fun. The Pecan was playing ukulele along to it this morning while we made our way through. He asked how many people were in the band and then added himself to the lineup. Cute kid. I should probably encourage him to go into finance or some shit, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.

Electric Spark posted the following:

Temple Fang vinyl album out on Electric Spark in April 2022

Fang Temple: The album that (nearly) got lost.

The short version of this story is that yeah, this is the first recorded studio album by the band Temple Fang and it sounds fuckin’ awesome.

However, the story runs much deeper than this being just a debut album. If you want to hear a story about persistence, going off the beaten path, getting stuck, and nearly losing everything accomplished, then just read on. This album has quite a fascinating story. As the title already implies, it almost did not see the light of day.

When Temple Fang started thinking about recording a studio album, the story so far was already very remarkable. From the first show supporting Lonely Kamel to their last gig with Mondo Generator, right before the whole world got in lock-down. Performing at Into The Void, Roadburn, Desert Fest Antwerp, Fortarock, Sonic Whip, and numerous club shows in between, all without a single note recorded in the studio. No album, no video clips, and no record label behind them. They did it all on their own strength and terms. As fans and friends were increasingly putting pressure on the band to record and release an album, the band decided to release a live album as their first official recorded output.

At the start of 2020, Temple Fang seemed on an unstoppable rise. With more gigs and the release of their live album on the horizon, the future looked bright. Then the world stopped spinning. Gigs were either postponed or canceled entirely, but the band did manage to accomplish something truly amazing. Their live album “Live at the Merlyn” sold out on Bandcamp within a week!

That gave them the confidence needed to start working on a proper studio album. The band worked out a plan. They would play and record several shows in the fall/winter of 2020 and use those as reference material for what songs to put on the album. They made plans to record the album in the spring of 2021. It seemed like a solid plan until The Netherlands was forced into another lock-down, causing most of those planned shows to be postponed or canceled. On top of that, they also lost their drummer. For a band that heavily relies on the interaction between its members, it wasn’t just a simple case of finding a new drummer and continue, and what to do with the booked studio time?

Producer Sebastiaan van Bijlevelt asked for the tapes of the three recorded reference shows, intending to make another live album out of those. The band reluctantly gave him the tapes but he was not too keen on mixing another live album. After hearing those tapes, Sebastiaan came with a new proposal. He offered to use the tapes as the framework for their first studio album and have the band use the studio time to record and add parts on top of that frame. In some kind of Frankenstein fashion, only done before by giants like Frank Zappa, the band started recording and adding to the base tracks that were recorded live in Utrecht. The result is this Temple Fang album, released as a double gatefold vinyl, clocking in at nearly 80 minutes!

After the recordings, the band found a new drummer and decided to start with a clean slate. So what to do with these recordings if none of the songs will be played live again? Should they be released only digitally, up for grabs for the fans? Should they be released as a limited cassette run? Or just leave them in the vault, gathering dust forever? The band couldn’t decide what to do with this album, how to approach or how to promote it.

Then the owner of Electric Spark got wind of these recordings and convinced his old childhood friend Dennis Duijnhouwer to release this album the way it properly should, on shiny black vinyl. They struck a deal to release this beast together, both as an ode to the first 3 years of Temple Fang and a transition to the new lineup. So there will be no promotional tour or release show, but these recordings are so good, that all those whistles and bells aren’t necessary. This record speaks for itself!

The first disc starts off nice and serene, like monks praying in a Temple, but by the time you put the needle on the second slab of vinyl, the tone shifts more to a vicious venomous delirium a bite of a snake Fang can deliver. The journey in between is mesmerizing.

Electric Spark is truly grateful to announce that this album will come out in the Spring of 2022 as a double 180 grams vinyl record with a gatefold sleeve.

1. Let It Go / When We Pray 21:54
2. A Strange Place To Land 18:01
3. The Knife 17:42
4. Not The Skull 22:15

Temple Fang on Fang Temple:
Dennis Duijnhouwer – Bass, Vocals, Guitars, Synth
Jevin de Groot – Guitars-Vocals, Synth, Percussion
Ivy van der Veer – Guitars, Piano, Percussion
Jasper van den Broeke – Drums

Additional instrumentation by Sebastiaan van Bijlevelt and Niek Manders

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Temple Fang, Fang Temple (2021)