Friday Full-Length: Samothrace, Reverence to Stone
Posted in Buried Treasure on January 28th, 2022 by JJ KoczanSomeone posted this record the other day in the Obelisk group on Facebook — thanks, Ted Parsons — and I’ve been glad ever since that they did. Release through the venerable 20 Buck Spin in 2012, Samothrace‘s second full-length, Reverence to Stone (review here), is a lesson that one can bludgeon and offer breadth at the same time. Tracked by Brandon Fitzsimons of Black Queen and Wormwood (among others), the 34-minute long-player from the Seattle-by-way-of-Lawrence-Kansas was not the first offering even from the West Coast to bring together such elements — nor was it claiming to be — but it made the point beautifully across its crawling reaches and in its most dug-in moments of sweep alike, manifesting an post-Earth heavy Americana from the outset of “When We Emerged” (14:21) in a manner that’s droning and impossibly weighted, the screams and growls of guitarist Bryan Spinks completely indecipherable as they join in the initial lurch built up from its softer foundation. There’s something happening there but you don’t know what it is yet. This is how they welcome you to the proceedings. Like Kids in the Hall: “I’m crushing your head.”
Spinks is joined in this incarnation of Samothrace by fellow founders Renata Castagna (who sat in for Chris Fielding of Conan after the two bands toured together in 2015) on guitar and Dylan Desmond (now more known for his work in Bell Witch) on bass, as well as Joe Axler (Theories, Book of Black Earth, etc.) on drums, and the four-piece work quickly and smoothly to demonstrate one of the great strengths of Reverence to Stone. As the lead cut continues to unfold, it reveals itself to be a massive thing, and the dragging tempo would be excruciating were it not for the exacting work on the part of the band tonally. It is the depth of tone that comes through in the recording — there’s just a hint of shimmer on the high end that had me looking back at pictures from seeing the band in 2014 (review here) to see what amps they were using; Oranges, Marshalls, etc. — that gives the listener so much room to get lost. They’re about one-tenth of the way through what’s still a pretty short album release, and they’ve already managed to build much of the world they’ll inhabit for the duration.
“When We Emerged” crashes and drones and seems to sway in the breeze of tis own making, but the (relative) speed kicks in just before the six-minute mark, and it becomes not only a sweep of 
momentum, but seemingly also the emergence hinted at in the title. A pattern of setting lead guitar soaring over the riffs is already established and put to good use, soon joined by Desmond‘s bass in a singularly righteous stretch. At their loudest, most forceful, the vocals return and are cavernous in the midst of that apex, a storm brought to bear that they start to draw down at around eight and a half minutes, making their way into a chasm of noise and feedback. There’s still a rhythm to it, but honestly, it’s hard to know where the wash ends and the undulations begin, and that’s the point.
A few patterns have been set. The separation of instruments is huge, particularly so in the overarching affect the space between them has on the listener. As the more extended “A Horse of Our Own” (20:29) launches and solely comprises side B, one guitar holds down the riff with the bass and drums, another shreds, and then by the time the second cut is into minute four, Samothrace have shifted into a section of quiet, intertwining guitar lines, far-back drum march and spacious, empty prairie tension. This is hypnotic, and that’s a strength into itself, but it is the smoothness with which they execute that transition and others to follow that helps make the song so undeniably immersive. “A Horse of Our Own” picks up shortly before 7:30 and unfurls not so much in a snap to reality as an organic surge, the land making waves around deceptively angular riffing before the next lead takes hold with a more fervent chug behind it.
Again, the tone. Even that guitar solo feels dense, and not just because of the bass and other guitar behind it or the shove of drums. Its fuzz is headphone-ready in its detail but still carries over as a wash and can move; it is the best of all worlds, and though it’s relatively brief and Samothrace are back to quiet again for an even-more-minimalist ambient stretch that takes them further into the track’s second half, they again make those details count. The march resumes as it inevitably would, but suddenly we’re back on familiar ground, reviving the riff and rhythm of the earliest minutes of the song as a bed for more roaring verses and a long stretch of deconstructing drone, the song spreading itself so wide ultimately that it disintegrates to a conclusion of residual noise. The final impression when one is oozed out the other side of all this morass might be “holy shit that was heavy” — and that’s not wrong, mind you — but part of the reason the weight is so present is because of the dynamic changes that bring it about. Even the final howls near the end of “A Horse of Our Own” have purpose as a part of that. Inhuman and inhumane as they might feel, they are a part of the land and reverence seemingly being depicted.
There was talk of a third Samothrace LP in the works circa late-2017/2018 — about a decade after their 2008 debut, Life’s Trade — but Reverence to Stone still stands as the to-date-latest studio release, followed by Live at Roadburn, which came out the next year and captured the above-linked set with Dorando Hodous (Fungal Abyss, ex-Lesbian) on bass. With all the upheaval and creative reshuffling of priorities of the last few years, it would make a weird kind of sense for another record to show up, but as to who would be in the band with Spinks and Axler and what on earth such a thing might sound like, I won’t speculate. I wouldn’t mind finding out, though.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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Hi, I can’t keep up with email. If I owe you an email back or a Facebook message or whatever and you’re seeing this, I’m sorry. It’s a lot. I don’t have a lot of time and I need to write. Yesterday I had like two hours plus whatever I could sneak in my phone throughout the day. I’m doing my best.
I’m thinking about going to see the Atomic Bitchwax next week with Mirror Queen and Sun Voyager. It’s in Brooklyn at the Knitting Factory. Maybe I’ll go, maybe I won’t, but I’m thinking about it. It’d be nice to see a real show again. Swallow the Sun were killer, but somehow I feel like going to New York is a different animal. But I want to see Uncle Acid and King Buffalo in a couple weeks, so this feels like a decent precursor to that. We’ll see if either happens. Sad.
The kid’s in school right now. His bus is for shit. It’s snowing and maybe we’re supposed to get a bunch more this weekend and maybe we’re not — nobody really knows — but I’ve got two nephews with birthdays this weekend, so I’m not sure what’s going on. My family is coming for dinner tonight and I’m going to make chaffles before they get here so that when everyone comes in they can be immediately be handed cheese and that can help stem the hanger that might otherwise define the evening while we wait for takeout.
Life.
I need to shower, so I’m going to cut out early and hope to finish doing that before the for-shit bus brings The Pecan home and it’s lunchtime and blah blah blah.
I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Have fun, watch your head, hydrate. I’ve got a gallon of water on one side of me and a cup of ice on the other. You do what you gotta do, damn it.
Thanks for reading.
FRM.
