Posted in Questionnaire on August 25th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Jeff Irwin of Will Haven
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I define what I do as just an artist first and foremost, I play drums and guitar but never took lessons, I wanted to learn on my own and create my own artistic stylings, I loved the challenge of it, this goes the same with writing music for my band will haven, I had a lot of influences but wanted to create my own twist on things and come up with something new, pushing the envelope on my own terms is what I have always set out to do, not into the status quo
Describe your first musical memory.
I have a couple that moved me into wanting to be a part of music and not just a listener, the first was hearing Micheal Jackson Off the Wall, I remember hearing that as a little kid and the music on that whole record just moved me, the melodies were so catchy and that’s when music made sense, then when I first heard Motley Crue Too Fast For Love I knew I wanted to play that kind of music, then I got to see them live when I was 12 and thought, yep I want to play on stage one day just like that, those are the ones that set me in motion
Describe your best musical memory to date.
As per the last question, seeing Motley Crue at 12 was bigger than life to me, I wanted to be a rockstar after that, then seeing Pink Floyd when I was 13 was another moment that changed my life forever, Personally when my band got to tour with the band Deftones and we played two sold out nights at the Astoria Theatre in London, England, to play that legendary place and the energy of those shows were the most unreal moments I have ever had playing in a band or in life in general
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
To be honest I don’t know if I have concrete beliefs, I do believe in love but outside of that I have no idea what is real and what is not, life is an ongoing journey of wondering, why am I here? What am I doing? What is reality? What is not? I don’t think I will ever know the answers to that, maybe in the next realm it will make sense but this lifetime it’s all just trying to figure stuff out, I do believe there is something that creates energy and life but I do not know what that is, so life in itself is one big test, you will have good times and bad and to if you truly believe in something directing you you might get let down, so I just let life move fluently and learn from it and accept it’s just part of the plan of living.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
I believe it leads to pure happiness, as an artist you always want to push yourself, to create something better than the last, The challenge can be so much fun, to be able to open your brain and use it and be free of anything else, it’s a blessing to have that use of the brain to create, to keep progressing and create something you love is a feeling that is unmatched, pure joy and happiness,
How do you define success?
Success to me is if you look back at your resume and see what you created, if you can look back at your catalogue of work and be completely happy with it then that is more than anything, money, fame does not stand the test of time, your music or art does, so if you know that you are leaving art behind that inspired people and will always inspire people that is true success
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
The evil side of humanity, I always thought that if we have one shot at life it should be amazing, we are only here for a very short time and it should be filled with adventure and love and everything that is here for us to survive, but deep down there is a part of humanity that believes in greed and torture and taking advantage of others, It makes you think what kind of place is this that creates such evil intentions for a life that is so short, Seeing that has definitely made me question the pureness of humanity when I shouldn’t have to
What is something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create?
I am always reaching for that perfect song, that song that can bring up every emotion the human body has, to make that song where one second you are angry, then sad, then you are at complete peace by then end, the song that takes you on a insane journey of every aspect of life, I am always searching for that, I don’t know if I ever will be able to do it but I will keep trying to figure it out
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
to move people, I know some artist create just for themselves which is awesome, but to share your art with people and have them feel it, it creates an amazing energy, to connect with people that you would never normally connect with is amazing, to have a common bond with someone, its that life is all about, sharing energy and coming together as a whole, music is very powerful, its vibrations that connect with others that only you as the artist can put out, it’s a pretty amazing feeling bringing people together, but in a good way
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
moving onto my next chapter of life, spending it with the people I love, looking back at all the amazing things I have done and creating more, moving to a new place and starting new adventures there, all I know is that life is just a dream…..
I’m drinking coffee out of a different mug today. It may not surprise you to learn that I’m particular about that kind of thing. I have two mugs — one from Baltimore, one from Salem, Mass. — that are the same. They are huge, blue and black, and they curve slightly inward at the top. They can hold half of a 10-cup pot of coffee. I use one of them per day for a pot in the morning.
Not today. The Pecan gifted me a Mr. Spock mug — he’s in his dress uniform, so it’s likely based on the TOS episode ‘Journey to Babel,’ where we meet his parents for the first (our time) time — and it’s smaller and lighter in the hand, will require an extra trip up to the kitchen to finish the pot, but I think she’ll be glad to see me use it, and maybe that’ll help her get a decent start to the day in a bit when she comes downstairs.
Today’s the last day for this week of QR, but we dive back in on Monday and Tuesday to close out. Hope you find something you dig, and if I don’t catch you at the closeout post for the week, have a great weekend.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Motorpsycho, Yay!
Long-running and prolific Norwegian prog rockers Motorpsycho have proven time and again their stylistic malleability across their north-of-100-strong catalog of releases, and comprised of 10 tracks running 42 minutes of acoustic-led-but-still-lushly-arranged, melodic and sometimes folkish craft. If you ever needed an argument that Motorpsycho could have been writing simplified, ultra-accessible, soundtrack-to-your-summer fare — and I’m not sure you have — Yay! provides that, with a classic feel in the harmonies of “Sentinels” and “Dank State,” though the lyrics in that last cut and in pieces like the leadoff “Cold & Bored,” the later isolated strummer “Real Again (Norway Shrugs and Stays at Home)” and in the lost-love-themed “Loch Meaninglessness and the Mull of Dull” have a cynical current to their framing contrasts that the outwardly pretty face lent to it by the Paul Simon-style lead vocals from Bent Sæther (also guitar, mandolin, omnichord here and more elsewhere). If the record is a gimme for an audience looking for a more earthbound Motorpsycho, then the arrival of the 7:46 “Hotel Daedalus” is where they give a nod to the heavier heads in their fanbase, with one of several guest spots from Reine Fiske (Dungen, Träden, etc.) and a shift in the balance between electric and acoustic guitar and synth at the foreground. Standout as that is, it’s also consistent with the spirit of Yay! more generally, which is built to be more complex in emotion than it presents on its face, and the work of masters, whether they’re writing longform prog epics or sweet closer “The Rapture,” which paints the change of seasons through an image of unmelted leftover snow “sulking in the shade.” One should expect no less than that kind of reach and attention to expression, and one should never engage Motorpsycho with expectations beyond that.
“Apollo,” which was the first single released by Severed Satellites, opens the Baltimore instrumentalists’ first EP, Aphelion, as well, its uptempo blues-informed groove an enticing beginning before “Lost Transmissions” digs further into riffer nod. With five tracks running 27 minutes, Severed Satellites — guitarist Matt Naas, keyboardist Dave Drell, bassist Adam Heinzmann and drummer Chuck Dukehart, the latter two both of heavy rockers Foghound, among others — offer material that’s built out of jamming but that is not itself the jam. Songs, in other words. Recorded by Noel Mueller at Tiny Castle Studio, the EP proves solid through “Lost Transmissions” and the bassier “Hurtling Toward Oblivion” with its ending comedown leading into the coursing keyboard waveform at the start of “Breaking Free From Orbit,” which is the longest inclusion at 7:21 and uses most of that extra time in the intro, building afterward toward a ’70s strutting apex that puts energy ahead of largesse before the keys lead the way out in the two-minute outro “Reaching Aphelion.” Through the variety in the material, Severed Satellites showcase a persona that knows what it’s about and presents that fluidly to the listener with a minimum of indulgence. A rousing start.
The collaboration between baritone/bass guitarist Martin Rude, drummer Jakob Skøtt, both also of Danish psych-jazz and psych-as-jazz explorers Causa Sui, and guitarist Nicklas Sørensen of molten-but-mellow jammers Papir, Edena Gardens issue their first and perhaps not last live album in Live Momentum, a three-song set taped at Jaiyede Jazz Festival — their first onstage appearance — in 2022 and pressed concurrent to the second Edena Gardens studio full-length, Agar (review here) while still not so far removed from their 2022 self-titled debut (review here). “Veil” from the sophomore LP opens, with a thicker guitar sound and more active delivery from the stage, a heavier presence in the guitar early on, hinting at Link Wray and sounding clear enough that the applause at the end is a surprise. Taken from the self-titled, “Now Here Nowhere” is more soothing and post-rocking in its languidity — also shorter at seven minutes — an active but not overbearing jazz fusion, while side B’s 17-minute “Live Momentum” would seem to be the occasion for the release. Exploratory at the start, it settles into a groove that’s outright bombastic in comparison to the other two tracks, brings down the jam and pushes it out, growing in volume again late for a slow, howling finish. What should be a no-brainer to those who’ve heard the band, Live Momentum portrays a side of Edena Gardens that their ‘proper’ albums — which is also where new listeners should begin — hasn’t yet shown, which is no doubt why it was issued to start with. Only fortunate.
Following up 2022’s What Lies Beneath (review here) and the intervening covers collection, Cover Ups, and the Crack the Lock EP, prolific Pennsylvania heavy rock outfit Delco Detention, led by the son/father duo of Tyler and Adam Pomerantz return with their Come and Get It! is suitably exclamatory fashion. The nine-track collection is headlined by a guest guitar spot from Earthless‘ Isaiah Mitchell on “Earthless Delco” near the album’s middle, but stop-bys from familiar parties like Kevin McNamara and Mike DiDonato of The Age of Truth and Jared Collins of Mississippi Bones, among others, assure diversity in the material around the foundation of groovy heavy rock. Clutch remain a strong influence — and the record finishes with a take on “I Have the Body of John Wilkes Booth” — but the fuzzy four minutes of the penultimate “Rock and Roll God” and the swing in opener “Domagoj Simek Told Me Quitters Never Smoke” continue to show the band’s growth in refining their songwriting process and aligning the right performers with the right songs, which they do.
The second full-length from Montana heavy-funk shenanigans purveyors The Gray Goo, Circus Nightmare, sounds like there’s a story to go along with every song, whether it’s the tale of “Nightstocker” no doubt based on a 24-hour grocery store, or the smoke-weed-now anthem “Pipe Hitter” that so purposefully and blatantly takes on Sleep‘s “Dragonaut,” or even the interlude “Cerulean” with its backward wisps of guitar leading into the dreamy-Ween-esque, Beatles-reference-dropping “Cosmic Sea,” or the Primus-informed absurdity of “Alligator Bundee,” which leads off, and the garage punk that caps in “Out of Sight (Out of Mind).” Equal parts brilliant and dopey, “BEP” is a brief delve into surf-toned weirdness while “Wizards of the Mountain” pays off the basement doom of “Pipe Hitter” just before with its raw-captured slowdown, organ included in its post-midpoint creep and “Cumbia de Montana” is perhaps more dub than South American-style mountain jamming — though there’s a flute — but if you want to draw a line and tell me where one ends and another starts, I won’t argue. Bottom line is that after an encouraging start in last year’s 1943 (review here), The Gray Goo are more sure of themselves and more sure of the planet’s ridiculousness. May they long remain so certain and productive. Heavy rock needs more oddballs.
It’s like they packed it with extra nasty. The seven-song/27-minute Shit Hexis is the debut offering from Saarbrücken, Germany’s Shit Hexis, and it stabs, it scathes, it skin-peels and not in the refreshing way. Flaying extreme sludge riffs presented with the cavernous echo and murky purposes of black metal, it is a filthy sound but not completely un-cosmic as “Latrine Odins” feedsback and lumbers through its 92 seconds, or “Erde” drone-plods at terrifying proportion. On paper, Shit Hexis share a mindset with the likes of Come to Grief or even earlier Yatra in bringing together tonal weight with aesthetics born out of the more extreme ends of heavy metal, but their sharp angles, harsh tones and the echoing rasp of “Le Mort Saisit le Vif” are their own. Not that fucking matters, because when you’re this disaffected you probably don’t give a shit about originality either. But as their first release of any kind, even less than a half-hour of exposure seems likely to cause a reaction, and if you’re ever somewhere that you need people not to be, the misanthropic, loathing-born gurgling of “Mkwekm” should do the trick in clearing a room. This, of course, is as the duo of guitarist/vocalist Mo and drummer Pat designed it to be, and so, wretched as it is, their self-titled can only be called a success. But what a vision thereof.
That Sacramento, California, two-piece Oromet — guitarist/vocalist/layout specialist Dan Aguilar and drummer/bassist/synthesist/backing vocalist/engineer Patrick Hills — have a pedigree between them that shares time in Occlith accounts for some of the unity of intent on the grandly-unfolding death-doom outfit’s self-titled three-song Transylvanian Recordings debut full-length. Side A is dedicated solely to the opener/longest track (immediate points) “Familiar Spirits” (22:00), which quiets down near the finish to end in a contemplative/reflective drone, and earlier positions Oromet among the likes of Dream Undending or Bell Witch in an increasingly prevalent, yet-untagged mournful subset of death-doom. “Diluvium” (11:31) and “Alpenglow” (10:07) follow suit, the former basking in the beauty in its own darkness and sounding duly astounded as it pounds its way toward a sudden stop to let the residual frequencies swell before carrying into the latter, which is gloriously tortured for its first six minutes and comes apart slowly thereafter, having found a place to dwell in the melodic aftermath. Crushing spiritually even as it reaffirms the validity of that pain, it is an affecting listening experience that can be overwhelming at points, but its extremity never feels superfluous or disconnected from the sorrowful emotionality of the songs themselves.
Each of the four tracks of Le Mur‘s fourth record, Keep Your Fear Away From Me, corresponds to a place in time and point of view. That is, we start in the past with 15-minute leadoff “…The Past Will Be Perfect…” — and please note that the band’s name is also stylized all-caps where album and song titles are all-lowercase — moving through “Today is the Day/The Beauty of Now” (9:27) in the present and “Another Life/Burning the Tree/I See You” (11:19) confirming the subjectivity of one’s experience of self and the world, and closer “…For the Puzzles of the Future.” (12:12) finishing the train of thought by looking at the present from a time to come. Samples peppered throughout add to the otherwise mostly instrumental proceedings, focused on flow and at least semi-improvised, and horns on the opener/longest cut (immediate points) sets a jazzy mindset that holds even as “Another Life/Burning the Tree/I See You” forays through its three-stage journey, starting with a shimmy before growing ever-so-slightly funky in the middle and finishing acoustic, while the (electric) guitar on “…For the Puzzles of the Future.” seems to have saved its letting loose for the final jam, emerging out of the keyboardy intro and sample to top a raucous, fun finish.
Pushing through sax-laced, dug-in space jamming, Tunisia’s 10-20 Project reportedly recorded Snakes Go Dark to Soak in the Sun during the pandemic lockdown, perhaps in a bid just to do anything during July 2020. Removed from that circumstance, the work of the core duo of guitarist Marwen Lazaar and bassist Dhia Eddine Mejrissi as well as a few friends — drummer Manef Zoghlemi, saxophonist Ghassen Abdelghani and Mohammed Barsaoui on didgeridoo — present a three-track suite that oozes between liquid and vaporous states of matter across “Chutney I” (25:06), “Chutney II” (14:32) and “Chutney III” (13:00), which may or may not have actually been carved out of the same extended jam. From the interweaving of the sax alongside the guitar in the mix of the opener through the hand-drumming in the middle cut and “Chutney III” picking up with an active rhythm after the two pieces prior took their time in building quietly, plus some odd vocalizations included for good measure, the 52-minute outing gets its character from the exploratory meld in their arrangements and the loose nature with which they seem to approach composition generally. It is not a challenge to be entranced by Snakes Go Dark to Soak in the Sun, as even 10-20 Project seem to have been during its making.
If one assumes that “Side A” (19:58) and “Side B” (20:01) of Landing‘s are the edited-down versions of what appeared as part of the Connecticut ambient psych troupe’s Bandcamp ‘Subscriber Series Collection 02’ as “Motionless I-III” (29:56) and “Motionless IV-VI” (27:18), then perhaps yes, the Sulatron Records-issued Motionless I-VI has been markedly altered to accommodate the LP format. The (relatively) concise presentation, however, does little to undercut either the floating cosmic acoustics and drones about halfway through the first side or the pastoral flight taken in “Side B” before the last drone seems to devour the concept with especially cinematic drama. Whereas when there are drums in “Side A” the mood is more krautrock or traditional space rock, the second stretch of Motionless I-VI is more radical in its changes while still being gentle in its corner turning from one to the next, as heard with the arrival of the electric guitar that fades in at around six and a half minutes and merrily chugs through the brightly-lit serenity of what might’ve at some point been “Motionless V” and here is soon engulfed in a gradual fade that brings forward the already-mentioned drone. There’s more going on under the surface than at it — and that dimension of mix is crucial to Landing‘s methodology — but Motionless I-VI urges the listener to appreciate each element in its place, and is best heard doing that.
Posted in Reviews on January 11th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Not to get too mathy or anything — stay with me, folks — but today is the day the Winter 2023 Quarterly Review passes the three-quarter mark on its way to 80 of the total 100 releases to be covered. And some of those are full-lengths, some are EPs, some are new, one yesterday was almost a year old. That happens. The idea here, one way or the other, is personal discovery. I hope you’ve found something thus far worth digging into, something that really hits you. And if not, you’ve still got 30 releases — 10 each today, tomorrow, Friday — to come, so don’t give up yet. We proceed…
Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #71-80:
Black Math Horseman, Black Math Horseman
Though long foretold by the prophets of such things, the return of Black Math Horseman with 2022’s self-titled, live-recorded-in-2019 EP some 13 years after their 2009 debut full-length, Wyllt (discussed here, interview here), helped set heavy post-rock in motion, is still a surprise. The tension in the guitars of Ian Barry (who also handled recording/mixing) and Bryan Tulao in the eponymous opener is maddening, a tumult topped by the vocals of Sera Timms (who here shares bass duties with Rex Elle), and given thunder by drummer Sasha Popovic, and as part of a salvo of three cuts all seven minutes or longer, it marks the beginning of a more intense extraction of the atmospheric approach to heavy songcraft that made their past work such a landmark, with the crashes of “Cypher” and the strummy sway of “The Bough” following ahead of shorter, even-driftier closer “Cypber.” There’s a big part of me that wishes Black Math Horseman was a full-length, but an even bigger part is happy to take what it can get and hope it’s not another decade-plus before they follow it with something more. Not to be greedy, but in 2009 this band had a lot more to say and all this time later that still feels like the case and their sound still feels like it’s reaching into the unknown.
The names here should be enough. It’s Aidan Baker from heavy drone experimentalist institution Nadjaja (‘and’ in Finnish) Jussi Lehtisalo from prog-of-all masters Circle, collaborating and sharing guitar, bass, vocal and drum programming duties — Lehtisalo would seem also to add the keyboards that give the the titular neon to centerpiece “Neon Splashing (From Your Eyes)” — on a 53-minute song cycle, running a broad spectrum between open-space post-industrial drone and more traditional smoky, melancholic, heady pop. Closer “Racing After Midnight” blends darker whispers with dreamy keyboard lines before moving into avant techno, not quite in answer to “I Wanna Be Your Bête Noire” earlier, but not quite not, and inevitably the 14-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “(And I Want Your Perfect) Crocodile Tears” is a defining stretch in terms of ambience and setting the contextual backdrop for what follows, its howling guitar layered with drum machine churn in a way that’s analogous to Jesu in style but not form, the wash that emerges in the synth and guitar there seeming likewise to be the suddenly-there alt-reality New Wave destination of the more languid meander of “Face/Off.” The amalgam of beauty and crush is enough to make one hope this isn’t Baker and Lehtisalo‘s last get together, but if it is, they made something worth preserving. By which I mean to say you might want to pick up the CD.
While their crux is no less in the dreamy, sometimes minimalist, melodic parts and ambient stretches of their longer-form songs and the interludes “In the Tall Grass” and “Bloom (Reprise),” the outright crush of Sacramento’s Chrome Ghost on their third record, House of Falling Ash (on Seeing Red), is not to be understated, whether that’s the lumber-chug of 14-minute opener “Rose in Bloom” or the bookending 13-minute closing title-track’s cacophonous wash, through which the trio remain coherent enough to roll out clean as they give the record its growl-topped sludge metal finish. Continuing the band’s clearly-ain’t-broke collaboration with producer Pat Hills, the six-song/50-minute offering boasts guest appearances from him on guitar, as well as vocals from Eva Rose (ex-CHRCH) on “Furnace,” likewise consuming loud or quiet, punishing or spacious, Oakland-based ambient guitarist Yseulde in the lengthy, minimalist midsection of “Where Black Dogs Dream,” setting up the weighted and melodic finish there, with Brume‘s Susie McMullin joining on vocals to add to the breadth. There’s a lot happening throughout, loud/quiet trades, experimental flourish, some pedal steel from Hills, but guitarist/vocalist Jake Kilgore (also keys), bassist Joe Cooper and drummer Jacob Hurst give House of Falling Ash a solid underpinning of atmospheric sludge and post-metal, and the work is all the more expressive and (intermittently) gorgeous for it.
Straight-ahead, metal-informed, organ-inclusive classic heavy rock is the order of the day on Wölfhead‘s second album, Blood Full Moon, which is the Barclona-based four-piece’s first offering since their 2011 self-titled debut and is released through Discos Macarras, Música Hibrida and Iron Matron Records. An abiding impression of the 11-song offering comes as the band — who filled out their well-pedigreed core lineup of vocalist Ivan Arrieta, guitarists Josue Olmo and Javi Félez, and drummer Pep Carabante with session players David Saavedra (bass) and Albert Recolons (keys) — present rippers like the Motörhead (no real surprise, considering) via Orange Goblin rocker “Funeral Hearse” as the tail end of a raucous opening salvo, or the later “Mother of the Clan,” but from there the proceedings get more complex, with the classic doom roll of “Rame Tep” or the Jerry Cantrell-esque moody twang of “Everlasting Outlaw,” while “Eternal Stone Mountain” blends keyboard grandiosity and midtempo hookmaking in a way that should bring knowing nods from Green Lung fans, while “The Munsters” is, yes, a take on the theme from the tv show, and closer “El Llop a Dins” takes an airier, sans-drums and more open feel, highlighting melody rather than an overblown finish that, had they gone that route, would have been well earned.
Issued through Argonauta Records, Exodus‘ seven inclusions are situated so that their titles read as a sentence: “Is,” “The Future of Mankind,” “Forced By,” “The King of Monsters,” “Because,” “Everything That Has Been Given,” “Will Be Taken Away.” Thus Leipzig, Germany, instrumentalists Godzilla in the Kitchen‘s second album is immediately evocative, even before “Is” actually introduces the rest of what follows across three minutes of progressively minded heavy rock — parts calling to mind Pelican duking it out with Karma to Burn — that give way to the longest cut and an obvious focal point, “The Future of Mankind,” which reimagines the bass punch from Rage Against the Machine‘s “Killing in the Name Of” as fodder for an odd-timed expanse of Tool-ish progressive heavy, semi-psych lead work coming and going around more direct riffing. The dynamic finds sprawl in “Because” and highlights desert-style underpinnings in the fading lead lines of “Everything That Has Been Given” before the warmer contemplation of “Will Be Taken” caps with due substance. Their use of Godzilla — not named in the songs, but in the band’s moniker, and usually considered the “king of monsters” — as a metaphor for climate change is inventive, but even that feels secondary to the instrumental exploration itself here. They may be mourning for what’s been lost, but they do so with a vigor that, almost inadvertently, can’t help but feel hopeful.
Megalurching post-sludgers Onhou leave a crater with the four-song Monument, released by Lay Bare Recordings and Tartarus Records and comprising four songs and a 41-minute run that’s crushing in atmosphere as much as the raw tonal heft or the bellowing vocals that offset the even harsher screams. Leadoff “When on High” (8:19) is the shortest cut and lumbers toward a viciously noisy payoff and last stretch of even-slower chug and layered extreme screams/shouts, while “Null” (10:39) is unremittingly dark, less about loud/quiet tradeoffs though there still are some, but with depths enough to bury that line of organ and seeming to reference Neurosis‘ “Reach,” and “Below” (11:55) sandwiches an ambient beginning and standalone keyboard finish around post-metallic crunch and not so much a mournfulness as the lizard-brain feeling of loss prior to mourning; that naked sense of something not there that should be, mood-wise. Sure enough, “Ruins” (11:03) continues this bleak revelry, rising to a nod in its first couple minutes, breaking, returning in nastier fashion and rolling through a crescendo finish that makes the subsequent residual feedback feel like a mercy which, to be sure, it is not. If you think you’re up to it, you might be, or you might find yourself consumed. One way or the other, Onhou plod forward with little regard for the devastation surrounding. As it should be.
Less meditative than some of Germany’s instrumental heavy psych set, Bremen’s Fuzzerati explore drifting heavy psychedelic soundscapes on their 47-minute second album, Zwo, further distinguishing themselves in longform pieces like “Claus to Hedge” (13:01) and closer “Lago” (13:34) with hints of floaty post-rock without ever actually becoming so not-there as to be shoegazing. “Lago” and “Claus to Hedge” also have harder-hitting moments of more twisting, pushing fuzz — the bass in the second half of “Claus to Hedge” is a highlight — where even at its loudest, the seven-minute “Transmission” is more about dream than reality, with a long ambient finish that gives way to the similarly-minded ethereal launch of “Spacewalk,” which soon enough turns to somewhat ironically terrestrial riffing and is the most active inclusion on the record. For that, and more generally for the fluidity of the album as a whole, Fuzzerati‘s sophomore outing feels dug in and complete, bordering on the jazziness of someone like Causa Sui, but ultimately no more of their ilk than of My Sleeping Karma‘s or Colour Haze‘s, and I find that without a ready-made box to put them in — much as “instrumental heavy psych” isn’t a box — it’s a more satisfying experience to just go where the three-piece lead, to explore as they do, breathe with the material. Yeah, that’ll do nicely, thanks.
At least seemingly in part a lyrical narrative about a demon killing an infant Jesus and then going to hell to rip the wings off angels and so on — it’s fun to play pretend — Afghan Haze‘s Hallucinations of a Heretic feels born of the same extreme-metal-plus-heavy-rock impulse that once produced Entombed‘s To Ride Shoot Straight and Speak the Truth, and yeah, that’s a compliment. The bashing of skulls starts with “Satan Ripper” after the Church of Misery-style serial murderer intro “Pushing up Daisies,” and though “Hellijuana” has more of a stomp than a shove, the dudely-violence is right there all the same. “Occupants (Of the Underworld)” adds speed to the proceedings for an effect like High on Fire born out of death metal instead of thrash, and though the following closer “Gin Whore” (another serial killer there) seems to depart from the story being told, its sludge is plenty consistent with the aural assault being meted out by the Connecticut four-piece, omnidirectional in its disdain and ready at a measure’s notice to throw kicks and punches at whosoever should stand in its way, as heard in that burner part of “Gin Whore” and the all-bludgeon culmination of “Occupants (Of the Underworld).” This shit does not want to be your friend.
My only wish here is that I could get a lyric sheet for the Britpsych-style banger that is “Costco Get Fucked.” Otherwise, I’m fully on board with Canadian trio Massirraytorr‘s debut LP, Twincussion — which, like the band’s name, is also styled all-caps, and reasonably so since the music does seem to be shouting, regardless of volume or what the vocals are actually up to in that deep-running-but-somehow-punk lysergic swamp of a mix. “Porno Clown” is garage raw. Nah, rawer. And “Bong 4” struts like if krautrock had learned about fuckall, the layer of effects biting on purpose ahead of the next rhythmic push. In these, as well as leadoff “Calvin in the Woods” and the penultimate noisefest “Fear Garden,” Massirraytorr feel duly experimentalist, but perhaps without the pretension that designation might imply. That is to say, fucking around is how they’re finding out how the songs go. That gives shades of punk like the earliest, earliest, earliest Monster Magnet, or The Heads, or Chrome, or, or, or, I don’t know fuck you. It’s wild times out here in your brain, where even the gravity slingshot of “The Juice” feels like a relatively straightforward moment to use as a landmark before the next outward acceleration. Good luck with it, kids. Remember to trail a string so you can find your way back.
Serbian five-piece Tona make their self-titled second LP with a 10-song collection that’s less a hodgepodge and more a melting pot of different styles coming together to serve the needs of a given song. “Sharks” is a rock tempo with a thrash riff. “Napoleon Complex Dog” is blues via hardcore punk. Opener “Skate Zen” takes a riff that sounds like White Zombie and sets it against skate rock and Megadeth at the same time. The seven-minute “Flashing Lights” turns progadelic ahead of the dual-guitar strut showoff “Shooter” and the willful contrast of the slogging, boozy closer “Just a Sip of It.” But as all-over-the-place as Tona‘s Tona is, it’s to the credit of their songwriting that they’re able to hold it together and emerge with a cohesive style from these elements, some of which are counterintuitively combined. They make it work, in other words, and even the Serbian-language “Atreid” gets its point across (all the more upon translation) with its careening, tonally weighted punk. Chock full of attitude, riffs, and unexpected turns, Tona‘s second long-player and first since 2008 gives them any number of directions in which to flourish as they move forward, and shows an energy that feels born from and for the stage.
Posted in Reviews on December 8th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The shape of sludge to come, one hopes. It Thrives in Darkess is the follow-up to Sky Pig‘s impressive 2020 four-songer EP, Hell is Inside You, issued through Forbidden Place Records, and it charts a course forward for dirt-coated heavy that feels particularly bold for being the band’s first album. The apparently-need-a-drummer Sacramento, California, two-piece of Rob Sneddon (guitar/vocals) and Jude Croxford (bass) — Chelsea Wright plays drums on the recording — cast an ambient impression over the course of their six-track/41-minute debut full-length, with echoing vocals and fluid loud/quiet transitions that make their more subdued stretches not an aside from the more weighted shove, but actually part of the proceedings and buildups. This distinguishes them in both atmospheric sludge and post-metal, and though they’re leaned more toward the former than the latter, they further draw on psychedelia, drone of various sorts, and a range of other styles.
Their methods might be likened to Neurosis, YOB or even younger Kylesa on paper, but these comparisons all fall short in capturing the full breadth of Sky Pig‘s output here. Throwing elbows all the while and having absorbed the knowledge of what worked on the prior short release, It Thrives in Darkness harness individualism from familiar murk, extend their grim aesthetic to the Droned Artworks cover art and twist listener expectation to suit their progression, so that whether it’s the watery clean vocals topping the quiet-but-tense drums in the verse of “Motionless” — calling out Black Sabbath‘s “Black Sabbath” without actually calling it out before surging into a shouted chorus — or the intense crunch that arises from the long build in the second half of the penultimate “In Light of Your Death,” they are able to do what they want when they want by simply doing it.
If it’s post-metal — and I’m not convinced it is, at least not entirely — it is a decisively American take, feeling more gut-born than hyper-cerebral in its roots despite a clear plan at work across its span that lets each half of the tracklisting start with a song about half the length of what follows. That is, on side A, the record launches with “State of Anger,” a rawer push that’s heavy enough to be called lumber and is immediate and intense in a way that becomes more a tool in the band’s shed than the sum total of what they can do, but is striking at the outset nonetheless, and telling in the echoing reach of Sneddon‘s solo of some of the swirling underpinnings that will show themselves throughout, as well as a touch of noise rock in the later groove.
But there’s less of a break than a rearing-back, and that’s a distinguishing feature that allows the subsequent “Larva” and side A capper “Motionless” to expand the context of the album as a whole in an organic-feeling way. I wouldn’t call it subtle perhaps because there’s so much tonal grit involved and when It Thrives in Darkness hits hard it feels like it’s leaving dents in the skull, but it is emblematic of a considered presentation just the same. Side B works similarly, with “Sinning Time” picking up from a second of silence with a persistent chug, a vocal-drone chant verse and shoutier tension offset, broader-feeling but shorter solo and consuming, head-down wrenching that never seems to fully let go in the drums, despite the roll that emerges in the last of its four and a half minutes, leaving a residually-heavy quiet from which the mellow and otherworldly-weirdo-effected guitar intro of “In Light of Your Death” takes hold.
Surrounding these shorter works, pieces like “Larva” — on which the returning Patrick Hills, who also engineered, mixed and mastered at Sacramento’s seemingly aptly-named Earthtone Studios, adds Mellotron in the midsection break to help set up the mellow, plotted guitar solo that follows before the crushing resumes — and the 9:47 longest-song/finale “It Thrives in Darkness” are likewise graceful and pummeling. “Motionless” begins with a stretch of standalone guitar in proto-YOB style that transitions smoothly into its full-toned thud but maintains the earlier contemplative vibe in its verse (which, if there isn’t more Mellotron there, sure has something that sounds like one), and seems to up the back-and-forth quotient in its volume trades, but never loses the pattern in doing so or comes across as confused about where it’s ultimately going.
In contrast, “In Light of Your Death” proves out a middle-ground for the extremes in “Motionless,” mean enough by the time it’s done, to be sure, but adding a deep-mixed melodic layer of either guitar or keys in its later reaches before the solo hits just past the six-minute mark and gives over to the last swell of riff-led volume, and those kinds of atmospheric noises do much to add to a spirit if not of improvisation than at very least of openness to experiment outside the normal confines of genre — to screw with their own sound, essentially, and follow through on ideas that end up enriching it significantly. The subsequent title-track is no less mindful as it layers vocals over the drifting passage that ends its first half, sparse-feeling guitar, complementing bass and far-off drums all lurking and waiting for the next moment to strike as an effective stop and start brings the louder line of guitar to announce the next round of churn to come.
They’ll cycle through again in that title-track before it’s done, with the drums more at the forefront, mix-wise, resulting in a kind of catharsis of reeling swing before the last push, and It Thrives in Darkness culminates with a deep-breath last shout and final crash that feels somehow suitably unceremonial given the dug-in passages before. Like much of the record, that ending makes a great strength of its lack of pretense, as both the production and the songwriting itself come through with due anguish and a focus on natural tone and rawness of its echoing shouts and plods rather than attempting any kind of stateliness this first time out.
Again, this works only in Sky Pig‘s favor, as even their very moniker seems to gnash teeth on an existential level. I do not know what their plans are in terms of touring or composing — It Thrives in Darkness was recorded between 2021 and 2022, so they had time to work on it and flesh it out, to be sure — but it marks a significant arrival in how it brings together often divergent underground styles and creates something fresh (if rotted-sounding) from them. There are a lot of variables between here and there — not the least a drummer — but if they are able to find a solid lineup and really get out and deliver this cacophony to listeners in-person, they have a real chance to become something the US underground definitely needs in their willingness to bend and break the rules of genre. It’ll be two or three more records before that tale is told either way, but the potential here is massive in keeping with the music itself.
The underlying experimentalism of Venetian Veil‘s new single “The Lamb” is there in the foundation of the song’s dying-light ambience. A 15-years-running collaboration from Sacramento, California — Susan Hunt and Jim Willig, hi — they put atmosphere ahead of traditionalism throughout the impending The Lands of the Living and the Dead, which is more substantive in flow and makeup than an EP but perhaps less in runtime than one commonly expects a full album to be; though perhaps we can just call it a “release” and chalk up one more convention being thoughtfully thwarted.
Mood is the defining current in “The Lamb,” but there is percussive movement in a kind of linear build as well, peppered through with wistfully cinematic keyboard and a purposefully understated figure of electric guitar. There’s a lift to the end some of Hunt‘s lines that reminds of Patrick Walker on the last 40 Watt Sun, but that’s more likely sonic coincidence than any influence either way, the two parties operating in largely different spheres.
But “The Lamb” doesn’t necessarily speak for the entirety of The Lands of the Living and the Dead — out Nov. 11 on Dune Altar with vinyl to follow — as “Quiver” just before rests on electronic pulsations and finds Willig on lead vocals, opener “Asleep in the Land of the Living” starts the release with a threat of feedback and exploratory but not necessarily harsh guitar noise, and the later “Awake in the Land of the Dead” drones pastoral ahead of the soundtracky “Treeline” and the Badalamenti-style brood-gaze “Phantom,” a subsequent remix of which closes. Still, life is short and the dictates of promotion are such that (most of the time) one doesn’t actually put out an entire offering while announcing it, so here we are. “The Lamb” offers intrigue and mystique, and in that and its patience certainly represents the rest of what surrounds.
I’d advise finding out for your sweet self on the player below which is followed by the aforementioned release announcement.
Enjoy:
VENETIAN VEIL is a creative duo from Sacramento, California, who, over the course of the last decade, have released a string of EPs and albums exploring a vast array of dark and ethereal sounds.
Having already started playing together in 2007 in the experimental post-metal band (Waning), Jim Willig (Lament Cityscape, Audioemetic) and Susan Hunt began releasing music as Venetian Veil in 2010. From the gothic kosmische instrumentals of their Conjurings audio cassette series and live film scores, to their more song-oriented albums fusing ambient, goth, and shoegaze sounds, the band has actualized their own virtual world of sound: the sounds of sleep transmissions from the minds of another world.
With their upcoming mini-album THE LANDS OF THE LIVING AND THE DEAD, Venetian Veil weaves a tapestry of sound that could be described as minimilist-Morricone meets post-goth folk with the patience of Steve Von Till and the melancholic worldly beauty of Dead Can Dance. The album will enter the land of the living on 11.11.2022. Make a wish.
Posted in Reviews on December 29th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Just to reiterate, I decided to do this Quarterly Review before making my year-end list because I felt like there was stuff I needed to hear that I hadn’t dug into. Here we are, 70 records later, and that’s still the case. My desktop is somewhat less cluttered than it was when I started out, but there’s still plenty of other albums, EPs, and so on I could and probably should be covering. It’s frustrating and encouraging at the same time, I guess. Fruscouraging. Life’s too short for the international boom of underground creativity.
Anyway, thanks for taking this ride if you did. It is always appreciated.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
Across Tundras, The Last Days of a Silver Rush
Issued as part of a late-2020 splurge by Tanner Olson and Across Tundras that has also resulted in the full-length LOESS – LÖSS (review here), as well as three lost-tracks compilations called Selected Sonic Rituals, an experimental Western drone record issued under the banner of Edward Outlander, and an EP and three singles (two collaborative) from Olson solo, The Last Days of a Silver Rush offers subdued complement to the more band-oriented LOESS – LÖSS, with an acoustic-folk foundation much more reminiscent of Olson‘s solo outings than the twang-infused progressive heavy rock for which Across Tundras are known. Indeed, though arrangements are fleshed out with samples and the electrified spaciousness of “The Prodigal Children of the God of War,” the only other contributor here is Ben Schriever on vocals and there are no drums to be found tying down the sweet strums and far-off melodies present. Could well be Olson bridging the gap between one modus (the band) and another (solo), and if so, fine. One way or the other it’s a strong batch of songs in the drifting western aesthetic he’s established. There’s nothing to say the next record will be the same or will be different. That’s why it’s fun.
What could possibly be left to say about the brilliance of Trondheim, Norway’s Motorpsycho? One only wishes that The All is One could be blasted into place on a pressed gold vinyl so that any aliens who might encounter it could know that humanity isn’t just all cruelty, plagues and indifference. The prolific heavy prog kingpins’ latest is 84 willfully-unmanageable minutes of graceful and gracious, hyperbole-ready sprawl, tapping into dynamic changes and arrangement depth that is both classic in character and still decidedly forward-thinking. An early rocker “The Same Old Rock (One Must Imagine Sisyphus Happy)” and the shuffling “The Magpie” give way after the opener to the quiet “Delusion (The Reign of Humbug)” and the multi-stage “N.O.X.,” which unfolds in five parts, could easily have been an album on its own, and caps with a frenetic mania that is only off-putting because of how controlled it ultimately is. Then they throw in a couple experimental pieces after that between the nine-minute “Dreams of Fancy” and the mellow-vibing “Like Chrome.” Someday archaeologists will dig up the fossils of this civilization and wonder what gods this sect worshipped. Do they have three more records out yet? Probably.
From out of the weirdo hotbed that is Tampere, Finland, Dark Buddha Rising reemerge from the swirling ether with new lessons in black magique for anyone brave enough to be schooled. Mathreyata follows 2018’s II EP but is the band’s first full-length since 2015’s Inversum (review here), and from the initial cosmically expansive lurch of “Sunyaga” through the synth-laced atmosludge roll of “Nagathma” and the seven-minute build-to-abrasion that is “Uni” and the guess-what-now-that-abrasion-pays-off beginning of 15-minute closer “Mahatgata III,” which, yes, hits into some New Wavy guitar just before exploding just after nine minutes in, the band make a ritual pyre of expectation, genre and what one would commonly think of as psychedelia. Some acts are just on their own level, and while Dark Buddha Rising will always be too extreme for some and not everyone’s going to get it, their growing cult can only continue to be enthralled by what they accomplish here.
Together, brothers Yotam and Itamar Rubinger — guitar/vocals and drums, respectively — comprise London’s Vine Weevil. Issued early in 2020 preceded by a video for “You are the Ocean” (posted here), Sun in Your Eyes is the second album from the brothers, who are also both former members of Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, and in the watery title-track and the Beatles-circa-Revolver bounce of “Loose Canon” they bask in a folkish ’60s-style psychedelia, mellotron melodies adding to the classic atmosphere tipped with just an edge of Ween-style weirdness — it’s never so druggy, but that undercurrent is there. “You are the Ocean” hints toward heavy garage, but the acoustic/electric sentimentality of “My Friend” and the patient piano unfurling of “Lord of Flies” ahead of organ-led closer “The Shadow” are more indicative overall of the scope of this engaging, heartfelt and wistful 31-minute offering.
Since before their coronation — when they were just Chiefs — the greatest strength of San Diego heavy rockers King Chiefs has been their songwriting. They’ve never been an especially flashy band on a technical level, never over the top either direction tempo-wise, but they can write a melody, craft a feel in a three-or-four-minute track and tell any story they want to tell in that time in a way that leaves the listener satisfied. This is not a skill to be overlooked, and though on Flying into Void, the follow-up to 2018’s Blue Sonnet (review here), the album is almost entirely done by guitarist/vocalist Paul Valle — Jeff Podeszwik adds guitar as well — the energy, spirit and craft that typify King Chiefs‘ work is maintained. Quality heavy built on a foundation of grunge — a ’90s influence acknowledged in the cover art; dig that Super Nintendo — it comes with a full-band feel despite its mostly-solo nature and delivers 37 minutes of absolutely-pretense-free, clearheaded rock and roll. If you can’t get down with that, one seriously doubts that’ll stop King Chiefs anyhow.
How doomed is Battle Hag‘s doom? Well, on Celestial Tyrant, it’s pretty damn doomed. The second long-player from the Sacramento, California-based outfit is comprised of three worth-calling-slabs slabs that run in succession from shortest to longest: “Eleusinian Sacrament” (12:47), “Talus” (13:12) and “Red Giant” (19:15), running a total of 45 minutes. Why yes, it is massive as fuck. The opener brings the first round of lurch and is just a little too filthy to be pure death-doom, despite the rainstorm cued in at its last minute, but “Talus” picks up gradually, hard-hit toms signaling the plod to come with the arrival of the central riff, which shows up sooner or later. Does the timestamp matter as much as the feeling of having your chest caved in? “Talus” hits into a speedier progression as it crosses over its second half, but it’s still raw vocally, and the plod returns at the end — gloriously. At 19 minutes “Red Giant” is also the most dynamic of the three cuts, dropping after its up-front lumber and faster solo section into a quiet stretch before spending the remaining eight minutes devoted to grueling extremity and devolution to low static noise. There’s just enough sludge here to position Battle Hag in a niche between microgenres, and the individuality that results is as weighted as their tones.
It might take a few listens to sink in — and hey, it might not — but Parisian trio Hyde are up to some deceptively intricate shenanigans on their self-titled debut LP. On their face, a riff like that of second cut “Black Phillip” or “DWAGB” — on which The Big Lebowski is sampled — aren’t revolutionary, but the atmospheric purpose to which they’re being put is more brooding than the band give themselves credit for. They call it desert-influenced, but languid tempos, gruff vocals coated in echo, spacious guitar and rhythmic largesse all come together to give Hyde‘s Hyde a darker, brooding atmosphere than it might at first seem, and even opener “The Victim” and the penultimate “The Barber of Pitlochry” — the only two songs under five minutes long — manage to dig into this vibe. Of course, the 11-minute closing eponymous track — that is, “Hyde,” by Hyde, on Hyde — goes even further, finding its way into psychedelic meandering after its chugging launch rings out, only to roll heavy in its last push, ending with start-stop thud and a long fade. Worth the effort of engaging on its own level, Hyde‘s first full-length heralds even further growth going forward.
Maryland’s best kept secret in heavy rock remain wildly undervalued, but that doesn’t stop power trio Faith in Jane from exploring cosmic existentialism on Mother to Earth even as they likewise broaden the expanse of their grooving, bluesy dynamic. “The Circle” opens in passionate form followed by the crawling launch of “Gone are the Days,” and whether it’s the tempest brought to bear in the instrumental “Weight of a Dream” or the light-stepping jam in the middle of the title-track, the soaring solo from guitarist/vocalist Dan Mize on the subsequent “Nature’s Daughter” or the creeper-chug on “Universal Mind,” the cello guest spot on “Lonesome” and the homage to a party unknown (Chesapeake heavy has had its losses these last few years, to say nothing of anyone’s personal experience) in closer “We’ll Be Missing You,” Mize, bassist Brendan Winston and drummer Alex Llewellyn put on a clinic in vibrancy and showcase the classic-style chemistry that’s made them a treasure of their scene. I still say they need to tour for three years and not look back, but if it’s 56 minutes of new material instead, things could be far worse.
Newcomer four-piece American Dharma want nothing for ambition on their 70-minute debut, Cosmosis, bringing together progressive heavy rock, punk and doom, grunge and hardcore punk, but the Waynesboro, Pennsylvania, outfit are somewhat held back by a rawness of production pulling back from the spaces the songs might otherwise create. A bona fide preach at the outset of “Damaged Coda” is a break early on, but the guitars and bass want low end throughout much of the 14-song proceedings, and the vocals cut through with no problem but are mostly dry even when layered or show the presence of a guest, as on closer “You.” Actually, if you told me the whole thing was recorded live and intended as a live album, I’d believe it, but for a unit who do so well in pulling together elements of different styles in their songwriting and appear to have so much to say, their proggier leanings get lost when they might otherwise be highlighted. Now, it’s a self-released debut coming out during a global pandemic, so there’s context worth remembering, but for as much reach as American Dharma show in their songs, their presentation needs to move into alignment with that.
Call it a burner, call it a corker, call it whatever you want, I seriously doubt Lima, Peru’s Hypernaut are sticking around to find out how you tag their debut album, Ozymandias. The nine-song/38-minute release pulls from punk with some of its forward-thrusting verses like “(This Is Where I) Draw the Line” or “Cynicism is Self-Harm,” but there’s metal there and in the closing title-cut as well that remains part of the atmosphere no matter how brash it might otherwise get. Spacey melodies, Sabbathian roll on “Multiverse… Battleworld” (“Hole in the Sky” walks by and waves), and a nigh-on-Devo quirk in the rhythm of “Atomic Breath” all bring to mind Iowan outliers Bloodcow, but that’s more likely sonic coincidence than direct influence, and one way or the other, Hypernaut‘s “Ozymandias” sets up a multifaceted push all through its span to its maddening, hypnotic finish, but the real danger of the thing is what this band might do if they continue on this trajectory for a few more records.
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 7th, 2018 by JJ Koczan
Californian hyperbole-inspiration specialists CHRCH head out on a tour next week that will take them to Austin Terror Fest the lineup for which indeed looks duly terrifying. Perhaps even scarier than that is that CHRCH in September are on a three-band bill with YOB and Acid King and there’s just about no way in hell I’m going to see any of those shows, let alone follow along the entire tour as it makes its way through the Southwestern desert, which to be perfectly honest seems like a pretty badass way to spend a week, even basically one coming right off of Psycho Las Vegas. Seriously, how could you go wrong with those three bands at a show? Goodness gracious.
CHRCH‘s new album (review pending) is out now on Neurot. The PR wire brings daydream fodder:
CHRCH To Kick Off Mini-Tour Next Week + West Coast Fall Shows With Yob And Acid King Confirmed; Light Will Consume Us All Out Now Via Neurot
Sacramento’s favorite doom practitioners CHRCH will kick off a short run of live dates next week. Set to commence on June 11th in Fullerton, California and run through June 21st in Reno, Nevada, the journey includes performances with Body Void, Trapped Within Burning Machinery, Ugly, Hist, Bird Violence, and The Ditch And The Delta on select shows, as well as a stop at Austin Terror Fest June 16th with Exhorder, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Come To Grief, Cough, and many more. CHRCH’s latest journey follows a recent European jaunt with Fister. Additionally, the bandwill take on a week-long west coast trek supporting Yob and Acid King this September. See all confirmed dates below.
CHRCH’s Light Will Consume Us All is out now on CD, vinyl, and digital formats via Neurot Recordings. For physical order bundles visit THIS LOCATION. Desirers of the the digital edition can go HERE where the record is also streaming in full.
CHRCH: 6/11/2018 Slidebar – Fullerton, CA w/ Body Void, Trapped Within Burning Machinery 6/12/2018 Garage Rock Bar – Tijuana, MX 6/13/2018 The Rogue – Phoenix, AZ w/ Body Void, Ugly 6/14/2018 Cans – Tucson, AZ w/ Body Void, Hist, Bird Violence 6/15/2018 Neon Rose – El Paso, TX w/ Body Void 6/16/2018 Austin Terror Fest – Austin, TX w/ Exhorder, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Come To Grief, Cough, more 6/17/2018 Reno’s – Dallas, TX w/ Body Void 6/18/2018 Hi Dive – Denver, CO w/ Body Void 6/19/2018 Metro Music Hall – Salt Lake City, UT w/ The Ditch And The Delta 6/21/2018 Holland Project – Reno, NV
w/ Yob, Acid King: 9/06/2018 Harlow’s – Sacramento, CA 9/07/2018 Catalyst Atrium – Santa Cruz, CA 9/08/2018 Pappy & Harriet’s – Pioneertown, CA 9/09/2018 Teregram – Los Angeles, CA 9/12/2018 Sister Bar – Albuquerque, NM 9/13/2018 Club Red – Phoenix, AZ 9/14/2018 Brick By Brick – San Diego, CA 9/15/2018 Oakland Metro – Oakland, CA
CHRCH: Eva Rose – vocals Chris Lemos – guitar, vocals Ben Cathcart – bass Adam Jennings – drums Karl Cordtz – guitar, vocals
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 12th, 2018 by JJ Koczan
Yeah, the dark cover art is cool, and it’s nice to know that immediately upon releasing their new album, CHRCH will make a break for European shores to tour with 2017 splitmates Fister, but what I really like to see about Light Will Consume Us All, which is the Sacramento megadoomers’ Neurot Recordings debut and sophomore long-player behind 2015’s Unanswered Hymns (review here), is that it has three songs on it. That was the case as well with the first record — three-song full-length — and as the band also went back to Earthtone Studios to work with engineer Patrick Hills, it would seem they’re following an impulse not to fix what wasn’t broken in their sound.
Needless to say if you heard Unanswered Hymns, but that is very much the right fucking move.
The PR wire brings that tracklisting and the foreboding cover and tour dates and so on, and if you’re not yet looking forward to this one, you should be. A band like this doesn’t sign to Neurot and then not deliver, and in the case of CHRCH, it could mean a real monster is on the way.
Dig:
CHRCH: Sacramento Doom Bringers To Release Light Will Consume Us All This April Via Neurot Recordings; Artwork + Track Listing Revealed
Light Will Consume Us All, the impending second full-length from Sacramento, California-based doom bringers CHRCH, is set for release this April via Neurot Recordings.
Standing at a crossroads of light and dark, CHRCH wields epic, lengthy songs, massive low end, and an occult vocal presence in a perfect blend of height and depth. CHRCH has been hard at work crafting their particular sound since late 2013. There is no image or campy gimmick to uphold, only the humble glorification of their fundamental musical elements
This purity and honesty comes across in a striking manner on the band’s 2015 debut Unanswered Hymns, a sprawling roller coaster of an album. Long form songs build and heedlessly dismantle as the band reaches sonic heights and beautiful plateaus. Severe, sometimes unrelenting, vocals contrast melodic singing; massive fuzz gives way to clean guitar parts; its warm, organic tone draws the listener in with a sound influenced by traditional doom, psych rock, drone, and ambience.
Light Will Consume Us All carries with it the same quality of songwriting that caught the attention of fans worldwide on their debut. Building upon this unyielding foundation, Light Will Consume Us All continues CHRCH’s narrative, traversing life’s epic journey of loss, reclamation and, ultimately, finding hope within the darkness.Minimalist, indulgent, or straightforward; the music of CHRCH calls the listener to inhabit it, allowing enough room for its transmutation into anything one desires of it. Light Will Consume Us All was recorded, mixed, and mastered by Patrick Hills (King Woman, Bog Oak, VRTRA) at Earthtone Studios in Sacramento.
CHRCH’s Light Will Consume Us All will see release on CD, vinyl, and digital formats via Neurot Recordings April 27th with preorders to be announced shortly.
Light Will Consume Us All Track Listing: 1. Infinite Return 2. Portals 3. Aether
Surrounding the release, CHRCH will bring their sonic alchemy to the stage with a handful of west coast shows including an appearance at Days Of The Loud before heading to Europe this May with St. Louis doom cult, Fister. With shows still to be announced, the band’s European trek includes performances at Northern Discomfort in Copenhagen and DesertFest London.
CHRCH: 3/08/2018 Cooper’s Ale Works – Nevada City, CA w/ Khemmis 3/11/2018 Brick By Brick – San Diego, CA w/ Wolves In The Throne Room, Abyssal 3/24/2018 The Golden Bull – Oakland, CA 3/30/2018 Blue Lamp – Sacramento, CA w/ Usnea, Un, Occlith 3/31/2018 Days Of The Loud @ Jub Jub’s Thirst Parlor – Reno, NV w/ Fister: 5/02/2018 Bar Loose – Helsinki, FI 5/03/2018 SubScene – Oslo, NO 5/04/2018 Northern Discomfort – Copenhagen, DK 5/06/2018 DesertFest – London, UK 5/07/2018 Fuel – Cardiff, UK 5/08/2018 Nice N Sleazy – Glasgow, UK 5/09/2018 Head Of Steam – Newcastle, UK 5/10/2018 Temple Of Boom – Leeds, UK 5/11/2018 Magasin4 – Brussels, BE 6/15/2018 Austin Terror Fest – Austin, TX w/ Exhorder, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Come to Grief, Buzzov*en, more
CHRCH: Eva Rose – vocals Chris Lemos – guitar, vocals Ben Cathcart – bass Adam Jennings – drums Karl Cordtz – guitar, vocals
