Posted in Reviews on August 5th, 2016 by JJ Koczan
It starts out unassuming enough with a quiet two-minute intro, but even the title of that track — “The Ledge” — seems to bring out ideas of jumping off into something vast. Sure enough, that’s basically how it plays out as 5R6‘s Islands gets underway with the circular progressive riffing of “Potion” The four-piece of guitarist/vocalist/keyboardist Igor Zubko, guitarist Kiril Brener, bassist Ievgenii Zinchenko and drummer/backing vocalist/keyboardist/noisemaker Dmytro Zinchenko (one assumes the rhythm section is related) hail from the Ukraine’s fertile heavy underground, in Kharkiv, which along with Kiev about six hours away by car has established a base of bands who cut a wide swath through various styles, creatively open but set in their purposes.
5R6‘s debut album, Islands, basks in a prog metal that owes some of its more intense moments to thrash, but is no less comfortable proffering post-grunge harmonies in “Gasping for Breath” or Nirvana-style jangle and rawness on “The City of X” than it is in the furious chugging in the second half of “Potion.” It can be a strange mix at times, but for Islands, which is released by Robust Fellow Records, that’s very clearly the intent. 5R6 careen through their seven-track/43-minute runtime and ultimately succeed in bringing these stylistic disparities to common ground, and it’s precisely because of this that their debut — recorded at Studio O! in Kharkiv over the course of 14 months by Alex Aizatsky and Dmytro Zinchenko (who also mixed) — succeeds as well as it does.
Over a bed of tense guitar notes and ambient noise, Zubko asks in the first two lines of the album, “I am standing on a ledge/Should I jump with arms oustretched?” He very clearly makes the decision to do just that as the speedier and more intense “Potion” takes hold. One of Islands‘ longer tracks at 7:27, it starts with an almost secondary intro behind “The Ledge,” but no question that the leadoff cut brings an immediate sense of atmosphere to bolster the proceedings that follow. Teeth-clenched riffing opens up a bit in the chorus before shifting into a section of Megadeth-esque speed-chugging in a preview for the apex of the song still to come. They make their way back through the verse and into an intricate bridge over tom runs and back through the chorus before reverting back to that same headbang-worthy groove, which this time carries the song out with a couple shouted final lines. “This River” is shorter and offers a less frantic vibe overall, starting off quiet and moving fluidly through introducing a kind of prog-grunge with its foundation in the creative drum work of Zinchenko.
A distinctly ’90s feel is pushed even further in the midsection of “This River,” which features one of the record’s best hooks and brings in heavier crash late before finishing melodic and leading smoothly into centerpiece “TV Snow,” the shortest (intro aside) song on Islands at 4:58 and a more straight-ahead thrust initially that breaks just before two minutes in to a stretch of minimal guitar and drums and spoken word/sampling that leads once more into a heavier surge, more bounce in the riff, but pushing toward the apex efficiently and paying off the first half of the album in the process as it makes way for the final three tracks.
That trio of cuts — “Gasping for Breath,” “The City of X” and closer “Islands” — all top seven minutes and very much have a side-B spirit to them in terms of how they expand the palette from what 5R6 are doing in the first four. Even though my copy of Islands is a CD and Robust Fellow‘s tape version seems to either move or eliminate “Gasping for Breath,” this split is evident as that song follows the pattern of opening gradually before shifting into heavier fare while also introducing more complex vocal arrangements. “TV Snow” previewed some of that, so the change isn’t out of nowhere, and it makes sense that 5R6 would work some Alice in Chains influence into their already potent brew. Perhaps most effective because of its more patient roll, “Gasping for Breath” leads to the straight-up grunge jangle and punkish forward thrust of “The City of X,” which plays a back and forth initially in quieting down to make room for the verses before resuming the rush for the chorus.
Past its halfway point, the song works through a bridge and back to the hook before an ending instrumental section takes hold at 5:26 that carries the last two minutes to their final fadeout, feeling a little tacked on, but serving atmospheric purpose all the same going into the concluding title-track. Granted, “Islands” would seem to have a difficult task in summing up the record that shares its name, but 5R6 don’t necessarily seem interested at the end in tying up loose ends that have already been tied up so much as pushing the limits further. In so doing, they wind up with a fitting summary anyhow. A single linear build plays out from the ground up and pushes through a finish that’s never out of control but still suitably vibrant, and the album ends quietly, as thoughtfully as it began.
If you were looking for a central theme to Islands, thoughtfulness would be a good start. As 5R6‘s first full-length, its cohesion and complexity would seem to signal that the band are not only willing to put clear time and effort into developing their material and level of performance, but that they have a burgeoning ability to balance aggression and fluidity in a way that makes their songwriting richer. That can only bode well going forward.
We continue today to make our way through The Obelisk’s Summer 2016 Quarterly Review. Yesterday we passed the halfway point, always pivotal, and today brings another batch of 10 albums from the realms of doom, heavy rock, heavy psych, boogie rock, and beyond that I’m looking forward to digging into. I’ve been waking up early mornings all week to put these together — in bed circa 10PM, out of bed at 6AM — but it’s been worth it to see the response the posts have gotten so far and, I’ll say it once again, I hope you’ve found something you dig in what’s already out there, or if not, that by the time we wrap tomorrow something piques your interest. Let’s do it.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
The Order of Israfel, Red Robes
Swedish double-guitar four-piece The Order of Israfel make their second offering in Red Robes. Issued, like its 2014 predecessor, Wisdom, by Napalm Records, the new collection tops out at 59 minute/eight tracks of classically rolling doom. Guitarist/vocalist Tom Sutton (also Horisont, ex-Church of Misery) leads the charge for the Gothenburg-based unit, and along with guitarist Staffan Björck, bassist Patrik Andersson Winberg and drummer Hans Lilja, he brings to light a trad doom not so far removed in some of its impulses from some others throughout Northern Europe in the post-Reverend Bizarre sphere, but showing a personality of its own in the layered vocals of “Von Sturmer” and the acoustic “Fallen Children,” which follows, the choral arrangement in the earlier “The Red Robes” and the speedier “A Shadow in the Hills,” which precedes the crawling 16-minute closer “The Thirst,” its slow-nodding finish underscoring what The Order of Israfel bring of themselves to the classic form in songwriting and overall cohesion of purpose.
It’s a little bit of everything. Landskap’s aptly-titled third album, III, brings out ‘70s vibe with the organ and underlying shuffle of opener “Wayfarer’s Sacrifice,” but offers a doomier feel in the vocals and guitar, and the band go on to execute Doors-gone-prog moodiness on centerpiece “The Trick to Letting Go” and more psychedelic fuzz on the subsequent “The Hand that Takes Away.” So yeah, the London five-piece of vocalist Jake Harding, guitarist George Pan, bassist Christopher West (ex-Trippy Wicked, Groan), drummer Paul Westwood and keyboardist Kostas Panagiotou cover a good bit if ground in just five tracks, tying it all together via Harding’s vocals and a comfortable pace across the board, even on the more insistent “Awakening the Divide,” though that consistency gets toyed with some as nine-minute closer “Mask of Apathy” moves from its dreamy, spacious initial stretch into more uptempo push as payoff for the album as a whole. All the better to have Landskap shift their own methods as fluidly as they meld different styles across III’s engaging span.
If I have a speed at this point, Pooty Owldom is pretty much it. The Virginia-based duo of Matt “Big Jim” Shively and Walter Barry – also two-thirds of the trio Olson/Shively/Barry, which released their debut, Teirra del Fuego Blues (review here), in 2014 – cross the lines between psychedelia, krautrock, folk, weirdo prog and funk with the carefree fluidity of pre-jam-band Ween on their self-titled first outing under their new moniker, and hopefully it’s not the last one, because whether it’s the soap-opera daydream keys of “The Owlet” or any number of the other owl-themed cuts here – “Fuzzy Pellet” is a personal favorite, but who could argue with the bassline/piano tap of “Owls with Big Donuts?” – there’s a considerable creative breadth at work in kind with what sounds like a really good time in progress. Not one for everybody, but for me, I’d love to hear Shively and Barry flesh these ideas out further over longer pieces – “Torus Landing” goes furthest here at 4:53 – and bring the jazzy rhythmic sunbathing of “Target: Mouse” to even greater experimental realization. However it comes, more please.
A guitar/drum duo based in Cherkasy, Ukraine, Celophys issued their third album, Ammonite, last year through Robust Fellow Records. The CD arrives as yet another example of the Ukraine’s burgeoning heavy scene, along with Kiev acts like Stoned Jesus, Bomg, Soom, Mozergush, Ethereal Riffian and others, and brings a noteworthy sense of lumbering across its mostly-extended seven tracks, beginning with 12-minute opener and longest cut (immediate points) “Baron,” which melds slow-grind sludge riffing with deathly growls and rasp, which the charmingly-named “Spaceburger” and the later drumless drone-feast “Caveman Ritual” continue to build out in atmosphere and snail’s-pace intensity. Feedback, massive tonality, plodding groove – these are hardly unfamiliar elements, but drummer/vocalist Alexander Beregovoy and guitarist Miroslav Kopeyka bring about a fervent bludgeoning across Ammonite that should have even the jaded among those who approach it nodding approval. Also noteworthy is the limited-to-53 “Nautilus Pack” which comes in a hand-carved, custom-designed oversized wood case with special graffiti art, a sticker and a pin, as well as the digipak version of the album.
Dunbarrow’s self-titled debut hits at a curious moment. They might be a few years ahead of their time in returning to the roots of vintage-style heavy rock, but in so doing, they basically take up the mantle that groups like Witchcraft, Graveyard, Kadavar and Blues Pills have left behind in favor of more modern production styles. Specifically, the Norwegian four-piece, who had a handful of shorter digital releases out before, come across in direct conversation with the self-titled Witchcraft debut from 2004. Strange to think that a record with an aesthetic so bent on looking backward could actually be forward-thinking — portrait of what goes around, coming around — but Dunbarrow offer persuasive argument in favor of retro orthodoxy in the swaying “You Knew I was a Snake” and the subdued brooding of “Guillotine.” Whether their bet pays off will be something to find out over the next couple years and as their sound continues to develop, but for their first full-length, they show clever songcraft, a clear idea of what they want to do, and the potential to move that forward in intriguing ways.
I’ll rarely hone in on one instrument throughout an album, but the bass tone on Brutus’ third LP, Wandering Blind (on Svart), has to be heard to be believed. With a goodtime take on ‘70s shuffle, there’s plenty of room for the low end to wind its way around the guitar, and it does. Of course, that’s not all the Swedish/Norwegian five-piece have going for them in these nine live-sounding tracks, as shown in the swaying solo section of “Whirwind of Madness” or the stomp of “Blind Village.” They’re not through the opening title-track before multiple Sabbath references are dropped in the lyrics, and indeed they’re a touchstone, but the more upbeat feel of “The Killer” and the back and forth of closer “Living in a Daze” play to deeper influences from classic heavy rock and its modern incarnations, culminating in a multi-layer guitar solo backed by tambourine, bass, and drums that really seems to sum up the friendly and unpretentious vibe Brutus elicit.
Finnish trio Vallihauta make their self-titled debut on Future Lunch with eight raw tracks that span between the hardcore punk/death ‘n’ roll of “Puoliverinen” and the doomed churn in the early going of “Reviiri.” One can basically tell looking at the runtimes of the cuts where Vallihauta are headed with each song, and they adjust their songwriting capably to coincide with the given tempo shifts, resulting in a back and forth as playful as it is aggressive in its sound and harsh low-end buzz, but to their credit, they bring the two approaches together effectively on closer “Ote,” shifting from the record’s most gurgling rumble and tortured plod to increasingly intense punkishness that hits headfirst into a final slowdown to end the album. A multi-faceted approach is rarely something to complain about, and it certainly isn’t here, but the challenge going forward for Vallihauta will be to build on that bridging of gaps in “Ote” without losing either the ferocity of their faster material or the weight of the slower.
The third Pater Nembrot album, Nusun (on Go Down Records), follows five years behind 2011’s Sequoia Seeds (review here), and for Italian heavy rock, it’s been a hell of a half-decade. Now recognized as one of the strongest scenes in Europe, Italy has become a hotbed and Pater Nembrot’s return couldn’t be better timed. The nine-track outing brings some genuinely expansive moments, as with the 10-minute “Architeuthis” for which Christian Peters (Samsara Blues Experiment) guests on synth, or the wah-soaked second half of “The Rich Kids of Teheran,” but even shorter pieces like “Young Rite” effectively bring together grunge and heavy psych influences. The piano-laced opener “Lostman” and acoustic-strummed closer “Dead Polygon” seem to be speaking right to each other and are somewhat at remove with the rest of the record, perhaps the minute-long bass interlude “Uknap” aside (perhaps not), but the four-piece know their game by this point and just when a song like “Overwhelmed” seems like it’s going to lose its course, they bring it around to Nusun’s most satisfying instrumental build.
Almost immediately upon the band starting “Device,” the sense of ambition in Floodlore’s debut album, When it was Written, is palpable. A psych-infused trio from Northern Virginia, they range freely between the classic-minded “Justice” and fuzzy push of “Bars” before heading back to jammier fare for “Release,” which calls to mind All Them Witches for its meandering blues, and into harder-edged winding riffs for “Evening.” Both “Peace” and “Glow” continue to flesh out one side or the other, but an obvious focal point is the three-part/28-minute closer “Sun/When the Floodlore was Written/In Praise of Alan Watts,” which starts out nodding at surf rock before space-progging out for about 20 minutes, working into an out of extended solos and culminating in swirl and thrust that lives up to the band’s clear will for exploration. Some smoothing out to do in terms of balancing the mix (vocals came through high, though I’ll allow that could be my speakers), but When it was Written impresses in concept and execution and as Floodlore’s first full-length, it’s remarkably encouraging.
When it starts to feel like maybe you’ve got a given track figured out, that seems to be the moment when Eugene, Oregon, five-piece Red Cloud turn something around on their full-length debut, Ursa Minor, and though their foundation is still very much in heavy rock, they build on that shifting into and out of desert stylizations and psychedelic swirl. The band – here guitarist/vocalist/bassist Aaron Williams, guitarist Dennis Medina, drummer/engineer Lauren Roberts and bassist/guitarist Sean Loos, though Loos seems to have left the band and bassist Mike Nemeth and keyboardist Garrett Davis come aboard – keep the material consistent by going back to that heavy rock foundation and through a clear focus on songwriting. Even in the somewhat lumbering starts and stops of “Smoke Screen,” these tracks feel worked on and carefully arranged, and though they go different places – “Ghost Dance” with its manic shuffle, closer “Sick Eagle” with its Songs for the Deaf-style drive – they universally take an efficient route to get there.
