Posted in Radio on December 23rd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I wish I could say I planned it out ahead of time that the 100th episode of The Obelisk Show would coincide with both the final one of 2022 and the third of the three roundups of some of the year’s best in heavy, but I’m nowhere near that coordinated. Fortunate happenstance, then, and a killer show either way.
You might note the minor departure from the general format I use in that this one doesn’t end with an extended track. Fact is there was just more I wanted to include than there was room for, so I opted to pack in three or four shorter songs where there might otherwise be one. Nothing here tops 10 minutes long — CB3 is just over eight and that’s the longest — and I can’t remember the last time that happened.
Before I turn you over to the playlist itself, I’d like to extend my sincere thanks to Gimme Metal for allowing me to continue to do this show. Seems obvious to say, considering, you know, this site in general, but sharing music I dig is among my favorite things to do, and I value the opportunity to engage with Gimme’s audience as a part of that. Thank you to Tyler, Brian, Dean and the entire crew for having me and making this thing happen.
Thanks for listening if you do, thanks for reading if you are.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 12.23.22 (VT = voice track)
Church of the Cosmic Skull
Now’s the Time
There is No Time
All Souls
I Dream
Ghosts Among Us
Sasquatch
Live Snakes
Fever Fantasy
Sky Pig
Larva
It Thrives in Darkness
VT
Abronia
Night Hoarders
Map of Dawn
Ealdor Bealu
Way of the Sudden Storm
Psychic Forms
Valley of the Sun
Images
The Chariot
Nebula
Highwired
Transmission From Mothership Earth
Supersonic Blues
They See Me Comin’
It’s Heavy
Les Nadie
Del Pombero
Destierro y Siembra
Sun Voyager
Rip the Sky
Sun Voyager
Besvärjelsen
House of the Burning Light
Atlas
VT
Dreadnought
Midnight Moon
The Endless
Author & Punisher
Misery
Krüller
Messa
Dark Horse
Close
Somali Yacht Club
Silver
The Space
Lamp of the Universe
Emerald Sands
The Akashic Field
Toad Venom
Swirling Hands
EAT!
CB3
To Space and Away
Exploration
VT
Ecstatic Vision
The Kenzo Shake
Elusive Mojo
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Jan. 6 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
Posted in Features on December 21st, 2022 by JJ Koczan
[PLEASE NOTE: These are not the results of the year-end poll, which is ongoing. If you haven’t contributed your picks yet, please do so here.]
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I believe we are in the midst of a generational turnover among artists and bands. Some have reshuffled as a result of either the pandemic or a basic desire to explore new creative reaches, and some are just plain younger, finding their way into a heavy underground that now has the fanbase ecosystem to support their work. The last couple years have not been easy for anyone, but this wouldn’t be the first instance of hard times making for good art.
The music that will define this decade is being made now. Fresh perspectives and new ideas have broadened the definitions of what makes a sound heavy, and while the change can feel and has felt excruciatingly slow, rock and roll has grown more diverse, much to its benefit. The boundaries between microgenres have become ever more porous, resulting in a vibrant shifting of styles and breadth that, even when playing directly to familiar ideals, is evolution at work. As/if you make your way through the lists below, consider the veteran acts and newcomers, young and old, how many debuts and sophomore albums and how many bands on their fifth, sixth, seventh, etc. Not that there’s nothing between, but the divide feels stark.
As war returned to Eastern Europe and the American political system teetered worryingly toward collapse, music was both respite and reportage, escape, therapy and critique marked by a blanket expressive urgency, no matter which side of which argument one was on. The ‘return’ of touring and live shows was a boon for escapists and celebrants, and one found new appreciation for the simple act of gathering. Some of the most beautiful moments I’ve ever seen on a stage happened in 2022.
In this spirit, I ask as I do every year to please, if you comment on this post in either agreement or disagreement, please, please keep it civil. For both my own sensitivities — yes, I take it personally — and those of anyone else reading. I thank you for reading, and if you feel compelled to respond, thank you for that too. I’m a human being. You’re a human being. Let’s just be nice. That’s all.
Okay. Deep breath in… and plunge:
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The Top 60 Albums of 2022
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Maybe you think a Top 60 is ridiculous. Fair. Too much? Okay. Anything else? No? Then let’s roll.
Precedent for this was set last year, and I found the trouble this time was not only sorting it by number — once you pass a certain point it’s more about including the names than the actual ordering, I’ll admit — but actually keeping it to 60. Believe it or not, these are packed in, and there were more than a handful of others I was heartbroken to have to leave out of the numbered list.
Here goes:
31. Ecstatic Vision, Elusive Mojo
32. Josiah, We Lay on Cold Stone
33. C.Ross, Skull Creator
34. Samavayo, Pāyān
35. Abronia, Map of Dawn
36. CB3, Exploration
37. Brant Bjork, Bougainvillea Suite
38. Valley of the Sun, The Chariot
39. Mos Generator, Time//Wounds
40. Edena Gardens, Edena Gardens
41. Cities of Mars, Cities of Mars
42. Dreadnought, The Endless
43. Clutch, Sunrise on Slaughter Beach
44. Tau and the Drones of Praise, Misneach
45. Nebula, Transmission From Mothership Earth
46. Birth, Born
47. Ufomammut, Fenice
48. Supersonic Blues, It’s Heavy
49. Naxatras, IV
50. Come to Grief, When the World Dies
51. Toad Venom, EAT!
52. Earthless, Night Parade of 100 Demons
53. Hazemaze, Blinded by the Wicked
54. Experiencia Tibetana, Vol. II
55. Les Nadie, Destierro y Siembra
56. MWWB, The Harvest
57. Obiat, Indian Ocean
58. Messa, Close
59. JIRM, The Tunnel, the Well, Holy Bedlam
60. Somali Yacht Club, The Space
Notes:
Some killer records. And not just things to be appreciated critically, either, but stuff I actually listened to a fair bit. Cities of Mars, Obiat, Tau and the Drones of Praise, Brant Bjork’s always a go-to. Seeing Ecstatic Vision and Josiah next to each other makes me want to book a UK tour for them together. And then you get into the gleeful acid fuckall of Nebula, Naxatras’ full-on-prog-rock pivot, Clutch being Clutch, Supersonic Blues’ right on debut — finally! — and Obiat’s first record in 13 years. Dreadnought and Edena Gardens and JIRM and CB3, Abronia. There isn’t a clunker in the bunch.
Don’t ignore this list, please, and please don’t think that because something’s not in the top 30 with the cover art right there I don’t think you should check it out. If that was the case, I’d cap the list at 30. There’s genuine treasure here to be found, and it’s my sincere hope you’ll take the time to find it.
My only hope is it wasn’t a one-off that Jason Haberman (Yeahsun), Ian Blurton (Ian Blurton’s Future Now, etc.), and Jay Anderson (Lammping) came together to form this classic psychedelic soul project. With guest vocalists, the six songs on this self-titled debut ranged from flowing extended jams to tight acid disco pop, as memorable as they were righteous. Sleeper hit.
By no means the only cause to rejoice to emerge over the last few years from Hungary’s Psychedelic Source Records collective, River Flows Reverse‘s second offering brings a crafted focus on organic, natural-world psychedelia that results in an affecting beauty and warmth all its own. It is the acid folk of another world; varied in instrumentation, exploratory, welcoming and wonderfully serene.
Long-since proven as songwriters, Virginia Beach’s Freedom Hawk one-upped themselves again with their sixth album. It was an effective summary of what has made the band so crucial and so largely undervalued during their time, bringing together elements from classic metal, classic heavy rock, desert riffing, and even some flourish of psychedelia in a DIY recording that told us we all need rock and roll and went on to demonstrate why.
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27. Lamp of the Universe, The Akashic Field
Released through Headspin Records & Astral Projection. Reviewed Jan. 10.
I’ll gladly cop to being a sucker for the long-running lysergic solo-project of Hamilton, New Zealand’s Craig Williamson (ex-Arc of Ascent, ex-Datura), and as he makes ready to unveil the more riff-heavy, still-solo band incarnation Dead Shrine in 2023 (info here), this offering from Lamp of the Universe pushed through a transitional spirit as though he was passing a torch… to himself. More than 20 years on, this project still evolves, can still surprise.
A beautiful bludgeoning. Metallic in its aggression, hardcore in its soul and sludged to its monstrously-proportioned gills, the latest from Los Angeles’ 16 felt tighter in its songwriting and meaner even than 2020’s Dream Squasher (review here), but maybe that’s the difference between being punched in the stomach and the solar plexus. This was the one that took the air right out of your lungs, and did so with purpose beyond the simple violence of the act.
Recorded (with Billy Anderson) during the general awfulness of 2020, this awaited third long-player from the Portland, Oregon, outfit led by former SubArachnoid Space guitarist/vocalist Melynda Marie Jackson harvested a vision of progressive black metal likewise expansive and dug into the dirt of its making. It was not easy listening by any stretch, but to undertake the challenge it issued listeners was to engage with a churning cosmic extremity that only emphasized the limits and folly of genre.
The follow-up from guitarist/vocalist Brant Bjork, bassist/vocalist Nick Oliveri and drummer Ryan Güt to 2021’s Stoners Rule (review here) had its challenge in continuing to speak to the rawest-form desert punk of the project’s debut while nonetheless growing the sound and moving forward. Stöner did this by making it a (pizza) party, with cuts like “A Million Beers,” “Driving Miss Lazy” and “Strawberry Creek (Dirty Feet)” bringing further vocal integration from Bjork and Oliveri as they blanketly refused to not have a good time. Easy record to dig, and it was dug.
One hates to use a cliché like “now more than ever,” but the return of UK lumberchuckers Conan was especially well-timed, and Evidence of Immortality spoke to the overwhelming strangeness of our times with clever metaphor while maintaining the trio’s punishing heft and extreme noise-doom onslaught. By now, their tonality is rightly the stuff of legend, and they know it and they play into it with particularly rampaging glee, but the six-track outing also showed how central atmosphere has become to their pummel, as heard on the 14-minute instrumental closer “Grief Sequence,” a somehow fitting complement to the all-in plod of leadoff “A Cleaved Head No Longer Plots.”
It is remarkable how distinctive My Sleeping Karma have become over time. Their ever-instrumental approach is progressive and reliably able to broaden beyond its root arrangements of guitar, bass, drums and synth, but at the same time, their meditative psychedelia is only ever their own. This was their first studio album in seven years, and while its component material played out with an overarching melancholy that seemed to look inward as much as at the state of the world at large, the four-piece likewise presented an answer in the catharsis of their expression. An essential reminder of the healing art can provide, Atma‘s resonance was an immersive comfort in its own right Like a weighted blanket, and accordingly warm.
New York’s Sun Voyager provided their own best descriptor of how their second full-length and first for Ripple functions in the song title “Rip the Sky.” The trio/sometimes-four-piece took cosmic bikerisms and classic punk/grunge shove, superheated them like they were about to fuse atoms, and accordingly scorched their way through a sans-nonsense-yet-full-of-nonsense 32 minutes and seven songs that, while varied enough in tempo, remained defined by their urgency. Last month, bassist/backing vocalist/keyboardist Stefan Mersch and drummer Kyle Beach announced Christian Lopez stepping in on guitar in place of Carlos Francisco, and whatever the future holds, they’re that much stronger for this wind pushing them forward.
This band is three-for-three in my mind, and as their third full-length, Psychic Forms fostered the most realized vision of their take on progressive heavy rock to-date while feeling not at all like a culmination. In its range and atmospheric focus, it built on what came before, but in pushing as far as it did, it seemed to open as many doors as it went through. Does that make any sense? Did I mix metaphors enough? Point is, the Boise, Idaho-based four-piece seem to develop new ideas and incorporate new influences every time out, and while their material becomes more complex as a result of that, they have yet to put those adventurous impulses to any use that does not best serve the song in question. Psychic Formsis what I wish the word ‘Americana’ actually meant.
On some level/levels, Mythosphere could be seen as a continuation of Beelzefuzz, the former outfit of guitarist/vocalist Dana Ortt and drummer Darin McCloskey (both also of Pale Divine). That simplistic view, however, doesn’t account for the shift in dynamic of bringing in Victor Arduini (ex-Fates Warning, Entierro, Arduini/Balich) on lead guitar or Ron “Fezz” McGinnis (Pale Divine, Admiral Browning, etc.) on bass. The latter two play a massive role in building on the foundation of Ortt‘s recognizable style, and as they unfurled Pathological, the sense was that they were stronger for the members’ familiarity with each other even as they undertook developing this new dynamic. One of the strongest and most progressive debut albums Maryland doom has ever produced in my view.
As the year went on, the sophomore long-player from Oregon’s Charley No Face just wouldn’t let go. Songs like “Mosaic Sky,” “Big Sleep,” “Satan’s Hand” — they just kept calling me back to hear them again. Languid fuzz, dual-vocals both delivered in dreamy breaths, the odd bit of cultish tendencies, all of it feeding into tracks catchy, heavy and miraculously unpretentious; Eleven Thousand Volts wasn’t necessarily reinventing a genre aesthetic or anything so grandiose, but its tracks were impeccably well done and seemed built for repeat listens, from the mellow-heavy strut of opener “Eyes” through the sweeping culmination of “Death Mask” at the end. Charley No Face nailed it. 2020’s The Green Man (discussed here) set the course, but in bringing in keyboardist/vocalist Carina Hartley alongside guitarist/vocalist Nick Wulfrost, bassist Brad Larson and drummer Tim Abel, they leaped beyond even the most unreasonable of expectations.
The combination in Atlas of breadth, spaciousness of sound, of rhythmic crunch, and of melody, put it in a stylistic category of its own. The Swedish fivesome whose moniker well-earned its own pronunciation guide have managed to grow and change each time out, but between the confident and soulful delivery of Lea Amling Alazam, the wide-spread tones of guitarists Andreas Baier and Staffan Stensland Vinrot, and the inherited-from-Dozer rhythm section of bassist Johan Rockner and drummer Erik Bäckwall, this felt like the moment where the band became themselves and seemed to realize the intentions they’d laid out at their beginning. Not bad for a self-produced second record, and not to be lost in the narrative of their ongoing maturation is the fact that for all their expanse, the songs seemed to get correspondingly tighter and more efficient structurally, which made them all the more engaging.
While the Dubuque, Iowa, duo remained somewhat defined by the split of their initial lineup that left guitarist/vocalist Alex Baumann — joined now by drummer Rockwel Heim — as the lone remaining founder, Telekinetic Yeti pressed ahead with self-aware riff-led stoner metal that demonstrated a special kind of revelry for the form even as Primordial left its own elephantine footprint thereupon. Unrepentant in their crushing fuzz, the band tapped into the lizard-brain-thrill of celebrating aural heft, but did so without neglecting songcraft, taking melodic cues from Floor and others while sounding fresh even as they seemed so utterly covered in dense, caked-on mud. As they move forward, they’re another act from an up-and-coming generation of players whose potential at this point seems only beginning to manifest, and while Primordial hardly put one in mind for evolution thematically, Telekinetic Yeti remain one of tomorrow’s brightest hopes for riffslinging.
Just about a year ago, I was lucky enough to be invited to the studio (features here and here) with Kingston, New York, trio Geezer while they put down the basic tracks for what would become Stoned Blues Machine. Even at that early point in the record’s making, it was apparent that they’d outdone even what was their definitive statement in 2020’s Groovy (review here). In terms of songwriting, the performances captured from guitarist/vocalist Pat Harrington, bassist Richie Touseull and drummer Steve Markota, and the scope of the record, Geezer took the lessons of their best album yet and made a new best album yet. Rife with hooks in “Atomic Moronic,” the title-track, “A Cold Black Heart,” etc., they dug into songs like “Eleven” and “Saviours” with an honest and sincere music-as-escape mindset and honored their jammier side with the tripped out “The Diamond Rain of Saturn.” I’m a fan of these guys, and Stoned Blues Machine was more than I’d have asked for, even holding them to the high standard I do.
Yeah, I said as much in the album review, and maybe-not-surprisingly my opinion hasn’t changed in the last two weeks, but if Sky Pig represent the future of sludge metal, that’s cool by me. The Sacramento outfit’s debut full-length takes the urgent crush of 2020’s Hell is Inside You EP and presents its maddening charge with offsetting, sometimes disturbing drone complement, sometimes resolving in steamroller-over-your-brain riffs and sometimes refusing to resolve at all. No matter how many times I put on the record, it’s a challenge. It’s not an easy listen, and where in many cases it wouldn’t be worth the effort, meeting Sky Pig on their level is thrilling and refreshing, which is so weird to think of about an album that so expertly seems to harness an atmosphere of decay. I won’t predict what the years to come will bring, or where Sky Pig will go from It Thrives in Darkness in terms of craft, but their first LP is both a significant accomplishment in individualizing stylistic impulses and overflowing with potential. A beast that hypnotizes, strikes, and hypnotizes again, purely because it can.
Listening to it, it seems somewhat cruel on the part of Los Angeles trio Sasquatch that, after being mastered in March 2020, Fever Fantasy sat in the proverbial can for more than two years before seeing release this June. Fortunately for all who’d take it on — only to be overwhelmed and consumed by the unruly dense fuzz of guitarist/vocalist Keith Gibbs and bassist Jason “Cas” Casanova en route to being punched upside your fool head by Craig Riggs‘ snare — the nine-song outing lost none of its edge for that time, and songs like “Lilac,” “Voyager” (dig that organ) and “Save the Day, Ruin the Night” hold firm to their on-the-beat intensity, a flawless uptempo heavy rock execution broadened by the flowing roll of the eight-minute “Ivy” and the full-bore-volume finish in “Cyclops” (dig that organ too). They’ve been on a streak for, I don’t know, the better part of two decades, and if the shove of “It Lies Beyond the Bay” doesn’t get you, then maybe the fact that in all their time they’ve never sounded this brazenly heavy will. Wouldn’t’ve minded it sooner, but it was certainly welcome this year. Inimitable energy in Sasquatch.
What do you say to a seven-track/75-minute Wo Fat album except maybe “yes please?” Could be the now-veteran Dallas-based three-piece — guitarist/vocalist Kent Stump, bassist Zack Busby, drummer Michael Walter — were making up for lost time, having not had a studio album since 2016’s Midnight Cometh (review here) when they’d previously been on an every-two-years pattern like relative clockwork, but whatever it was, The Singularity was an album by which to be engulfed. The riffs, of course, the riffs, but consider that quick break of bright noodling in 13-minute opener “Orphans of the Singe,” or the delve into next-level heaviness that followed in “The Snows of Banquo IV.” While keeping to their core approach in jazz-informed, jam-prone-but-still-hooky bluesy fuzz rock, Wo Fat seemed to purposefully screw with their own formula, giving “The Unraveling” a tense chug and finding new realms of vastness in 16-minute closer “The Oracle.” Maybe it’ll be two years for their next one, maybe six, maybe never, but Wo Fat answered the call in 2022 as only they could, and one could only be grateful for their return.
It’s my nature to dig a lot of bands. I’m left in awe by far fewer. The second album from Forlesen, recorded mostly remotely as at least some portion of the band is now based in Oregon, Black Terrain was stunning enough that I couldn’t bring myself to even review it until about two months after it was already out. Beautifully arranged and set to purposes that were at times genuinely terrifying, this four-song answer to 2020’s debut, Hierophant Violent (review here), felt more patient even as it drew thicker lines between its movements and seemed to begin a process of melding styles through which one can only hope Forlesen‘s style will continue to develop. Sad and aggressive, wholly immersive and still challenging to the listener, Black Terrain was just as likely to tear open the cosmic fabric in “Harrowed Earth” as to drone itself into oblivion on its title-track, but it was the enthralling nature of the album as a single work — never mind that triumphant final solo in “Saturnine” — that was the real accomplishment. Most of all, Forlesen stood on their own, as themselves, and set their own path forward into the actually-unknown, with all the gorgeousness and horror that might imply.
The way “Pleading to the Cosmic Mother” seemed to actually plead, and the swap in perspective for “Last Words of a Dying God.” The sinister underpinning in the lyrical promises of “One More Step.” The devotional sensibility and swirl of “Seven Rays of Colour” at the outset and the corresponding regret of “We Lost it Somewhere” at the end. That hook in “Now’s the Time.” The complement across sides in “Valleys and Hills Pt. 1 – Peel Away the Layers” and “Valleys and Hills Pt. 2 – Pure Illumination.” Church of the Cosmic Skull‘s fourth album not only brought founding guitarist/vocalist Bill Fisher‘s whole-album compositional sensibility to new heights, but was truly classic in feel and the ways in which the songs spoke to each other, worked off each other, melodically, rhythmically and in theme. Gorgeously harmonized as ever, the cult-minded UK seven-piece gave up nothing of craft in service to their audio/visual aesthetic, and even just on the level of a-thing-to-put-on, the utter listenability and welcome that There is No Time offered was no less resonant than the calls to sing along to any number of the choruses. There is no one else out there like them, no other band among the hundreds covered here who can do what they do, and yes, I mean that. They are special, transcendent.
Granted, as regards narrative, the story of All Souls‘ third album behind 2020’s Songs for the End of the World (review here) and 2018’s self-titled debut (review here) was always going to be that the Los Angeles-based then-trio of guitarist/vocalist Antonio Aguilar, bassist/vocalist Meg Castellanos (both ex-Totimoshi) and drummer Tony Tornay (also Fatso Jetson) recorded with producer Alain Johannes (Eleven, Queens of the Stone Age, etc.). And the songs bore his mark for sure, in backing vocals and lead guitar, complementing and fleshing out the root heavy punk rock-isms of the band, who, well, were down a guitarist anyhow and had room for such contributions. I don’t know what the impetus was behind the collaboration, but even just in the performances captured from the trio, the songs felt like the best versions of themselves, and went beyond third-record realizations in terms of stepping forward from where All Souls were two years ago. They remain woefully undervalued in my mind, and I have the feeling that might be the case even if they were millionaires, but the spirit in Ghosts Among Us, that intangible atmosphere and sonic persona that emerged was both intimate and sprawling, deeply singular and heartfelt while bringing the listener along for the journey across its still-humble 39 minutes. Records like this don’t happen every year. You should hear it.
Formerly (?) the drummer of New Paltz, New York, psych purveyors It’s Not Night: It’s Space, self-recording multi-instrumentalist Michael Lutomski is the lone figure behind Okkoto, and Climb the Antlers and Reach the Stars was his second full-length under the banner after 2019’s Fear the Veil Not the Void. Across five individualized but flowing pieces, Lutomski harnessed a meditative ambience that pushed into homemade intimacy and aural distance in kind, the songs serene as they evocatively conjured a three-dimensional world of length, width, depth. With just a couple guest appearances adding to his own performances, Lutomski found balance in exploration, and the resonance of “Wind at the Gated Grove,” the birdsong in “First Drops in the Cup of Dawn” and the ethereal presence in the soft, rolling nod of finale “Where the Meadows Dream Beside the Sea” all fed into an impression that one might call “striking” were it not so gently, carefully handled. Climb the Antlers and Reach the Stars felt like an offering in the truest sense of the word, and brought soulful purpose to its experimentalism, giving comfort to the listener in its willful contradiction of anxiety; not so much ‘for our times’ as beyond time. It established Lutomski as a noteworthy auteur and creator, and engaged with the organic on every level in a way unforced, loving and hypnotic. Everything was exactly as it needed to be.
There was so much happening at times throughout the 40 minutes of Axexan, Espreitan that it could be hard to keep up with, but in fusing together heavy psych and classic, progressive heavy rock with their native Galician folk influences, Moura found a sound unlike anything else I heard this year. It was such a palpable sense of sharing; an expression of the internalized value of culture. Even as “Romance de Andrés d’Orois” seemed at its outset to float in the antigravity space created by the prior intro “Alborada do alén,” it did so with humanity and made itself memorable in its arrangement and across-language-barrier total-dialogue, conversing with itself, history, the future and the listener. It could be traditionally heavy, as in the scorcher guitar work in the second half of “Pelerinaxes” or the closing stretch of “Lúa vermella,” but showed in songs like “Encontro cunha moura fiadeira en Dormeá” that Axexan, Espreitan was about more than where a given linear build was going, but about the sights and meetings along the way. On just their second full-length, Moura displayed a rare mastery of their approach and made each piece feel like a celebration of something beyond themselves and their songwriting, whether that was the relatively minimal “Cantar do liño” or the kosmiche thrust of “Baile do dentón.” Could be head-spinning, could be tranquil, but whatever else it was at any given time, it was wonderfully complete and engrossing.
ColourHaze are not only one of the most pivotal and influential European bands of their generation — heavy psychedelic rock would not exist as it does without them, period — but even more importantly, they’re a group who have refused stagnation outright. Sacred was the Munich-based four-piece’s 14th album, and it presented a shift in the dynamic in marking the studio introduction of bassist Mario Oberpucher — taking on the role held for more than two decades by Philip Rasthofer in the rhythm section alongside drummer Manfred Merwald — and found Stefan Koglek‘s guitar playing off Jan Faszbender‘s keys and synth in ever more engaging ways. It wasn’t just about stepping back and giving space to one instrument or the other anymore, but about how they can converse together and bolster the songs, push each other as players and bring the best out of each other to the ultimate strengthening of the record itself. Like so much of what Colour Haze do, this is organic; a natural process happening over time, and to be sure, their next album will likewise be an outgrowth of what they accomplished in Sacred, their songs so undeniably their own even as they explore new reaches and ideas. A bit of lyrical cynicism in “Avatar,” “See the Fools” and the defiant stance of “Goldmine” spoke to the moment of their creation, but Sacred provided its own best argument for love over hate, and perhaps the highest compliment that can be paid is that it’s a record worthy of the band that made it.
This was my album of the year for most of the year, and there’s a big part of me that continues to think of it on those terms. The eighth full-length from San Diego solo industrialist Tristan Shone — who brought Ecstatic Vision‘s Doug Sabolick on tour as guitarist — branched out melodically from 2018’s Beastland (discussed here), which was his first for Relapse, which could be heard likewise in his own not-just-harsh vocals and in the use of melodic programmed synth as well on a song like “Maiden Star.” At the same time, an uptick in production value gave cinematic presence to the storytelling of “Drone Mounting Dread,” “Centurion” and the concluding title-track (among others), and a corresponding increase in engagement with non-synth instrumentation — needing a guitarist was not a coincidence — brought weighted bass to “Centurion” and live drums to “Misery,” further broadening the scope of what was an examination of pandemic-era life in America, the dystopian nature of the US circa 2021 presented as the backdrop upon which the songs took place; see “Incinerator,” the electronic-noise overload of “Blacksmith” and even the masculine voice through which the Portishead cover “Glorybox” was manifest. Shone reaffirmed his place miles ahead of almost the entire sphere of industrial metal, and gave the everything-is-whole-planet-death-and-it’s-our-fault moment the cruel sense of tragedy it deserved, mourning chaos even as it acknowledged a place for love within it.
In the name of all that is good and right in the universe, have you heard this album? With it, Caustic Casanova — bassist/vocalist Francis Beringer (who wrote the best lyrics I read all year, hands down), drummer/vocalist Stefanie Zænker, and guitarists Andrew Yonki and Jake Kimberley — outdid themselves, the pandemic and the legacy of Theodore Roosevelt in five songs and 45 minutes of unflinchingly perfect quirk. Are they punk, noise, prog, stoner rock, post-hardcore or sludge? Yes. Also no. Also a little bit, maybe? I’ve been through Glass Enclosed Nerve Center — the band’s fifth album and first written as a four-piece — a bother-my-family-with-it amount of times, and I’m still up in the air on where it rests categorically, and perhaps that’s in part because the one thing it did not do was rest. Even in the multiple stages of 22-minute finale “Bull Moose Against the Sky,” which I promise you is the only reason I’m even doing a Song of the Year part of this post below, their moves were considered and unpredictable in kind, and whether it was the weight of “Lodestar,” the sunrise at the outset of “Anubis Rex,” the yes-it’s-been-like-that mania of “A Bailar Con Cuarentena” or the hypnotic-plus-dizzying then massive “Shrouded Coconut” on side A, Caustic Casanova were able to pivot from one part the next while making hooks out of single measures and crafting an outing that went beyond even the sundry weirdo triumphs they’ve had to this point in their tenure. A special record on every level one might want to consider, and quintessentially the band’s own.
When Salt Lake City, Utah’s SubRosa ended after releasing the best album of 2016 in For This We Fought the Battle of Ages (review here), the heart ached for the expressive artistry and distinct style that was snuffed out when it seemed the band still had so much more to say. The emergence of The Otolith, with former SubRosa members Sarah Pendleton and Kim Cordray (violin and vocals, both), Levi Hanna (now guitar/vocals) and Andy Patterson (drums, percussion, production, mixing, mastering) — four-fifths of the band that was — and their presentation of the debut album Folium Limina, has been the flower growing on top of that grave. Together with bassist/vocalist Matt Brotherton, the atmospheric, almost-gothic-but-too-in-the-real-world, gracefully flowing post-metallic five-piece didn’t so much pick up where the last band left off as use that ending to mark a new beginning of their own exploration. Increased use of sampling (at least one big one in the penultimate “Bone Dust”), keyboard/synth, and deeper arrangements of harsh/clean vocals on songs like “Ekpyrotic” and the finale “Dispirit” diverged in intent and the full album maintained a mournful, critical, intelligent-but-emotive poetic voice that carried across the entirety of its consuming 63 minutes. This made Folium Limina of a kind with its high desert/mountainous, surrounded-by-dangerous-fanatics-and-duly-frightened-and-defiant predecessor, but even better, it declared The Otolith as ready to step out of that significant shadow and flourish as something new.
The third of three was perhaps a definitive statement of who King Buffalo are as a group. The Rochester, New York, trio of guitarist/vocalist/synthesist Sean McVay, bassist/synthesist Dan Reynolds and drummer Scott Donaldson released two albums in 2021 in The Burden of Restlessness (review here), which was my pick for last year’s album of the year, and the also-in-the-top-five, cave-recorded Acheron (review here), the seven-song Regenerator, as their fifth full-length overall, faced the biggest challenge of any of their studio work to-date in completing their unofficial pandemic-era trilogy of LPs written during covid-19 lockdown in 2020. Regenerator not only rose to the occasion, but deftly served as keystone for the series in tying together the progressive psychedelia of The Burden of Restlessness with the exploratory, speaking-to-the-natural-world communion of Acheron. Whether it was the opener/longest track (immediate points) “Regenerator” itself, the tight push of tension in “Mercury” or the later melodic fleshing out of “Mammoth” and “Avalon,” or the all-embracing conclusion in “Firmament,” Regenerator tied together the two albums before and stepped forward as something new, finding an ideal balance for the band’s increasingly multifaceted approach without sacrificing songcraft in its individual pieces. These last two years have seen King Buffalo ascend among the foremost purveyors of heavy psychedelia, and the genre is stronger for the efforts they’ve made to reshape it in their image. The truly horrifying part is I’m convinced their best work is still ahead of them. Amid trauma and cynicism, King Buffalo made it okay to feel optimistic.
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2022 Album of the Year
1. Elder, Innate Passage
Released by Stickman Records & Armageddon Shop. Reviewed Nov. 17.
Sometimes the obvious answer is the answer. In the last decade, the first-Massachusetts-then-mostly-Berlin, first-trio-then-four-piece Elder became a defining presence in progressive heavy psychedelic rock, with 2011’s Dead Roots Stirring (review here), 2012’s Spires Burn/Release EP (review here), 2015’s landmark among landmarksLore (review here), and 2017’s Reflections of a Floating World (review here) each taking forward steps to create a sound influential even as it seemed to be constantly coming to fruition. This is their best album, no, this is their best album. In this decade, they stand astride their aesthetic as masters. As the follow-up to 2020’s moment-of-transition Omens (review here), the five-track Innate Passage is an arrival; a vision of Elder as mature and still evolving, veterans ahead of their time while most of their generation are upstarts, and on a wavelength of their own despite the increasing pervasiveness of their predominance. The flexibility of their songwriting, and the ability of founding guitarist/vocalist/keyboardist Nick DiSalvo — joined by founding bassist Jack Donovan, guitarist/keyboardist Mike Risberg and drummer Georg Edert — to marry parts together that would in other hands be too disparate to connect have never been so resonant, and in cuts like “Endless Return,” “Catastasis,” and the 14-minute two-parter “Merged in Dreams/Ne Plus Ultra,” Elder harvested their most accomplished melodicism to-date (guest vocal harmonies from Samavayo‘s Behrang Alavi and the production of Linda Dag at Clouds Hill Studio were both notable contributions to this aspect of the work), while simultaneously keeping mindful of the dynamic potential of the songs to be tonally and rhythmically heavy, as in “Coalescence” the otherworldly finisher “The Purpose” and indeed, impact-minded stretches in “Catastasis” and “Merged in Dreams/Ne Plus Ultra.” This emphasis felt daring from a band who had purposefully moved away from lumbering-style riffing a decade earlier, and the seamlessness with which Elder integrated these ideas into their proggy aural macrocosm helped make Innate Passage a standout even in their unflinchingly forward-moving discography, even as the title itself reminded that this too is likely only another step along their path. Off they go again, ascendant.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2022: Honorable Mention
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Strap yourselves in, kids. We’re not done yet.
The year wouldn’t have been as sonically stellar as it was without:
40 Watt Sun, 10,000 Years, Aawks, Abrams, Alunah, Ararat, Artifacts & Uranium, Basalt Shrine, Behold! The Monolith, Black Capricorn, Black Lung, Black Space Riders, Blue Heron, Boris, Brujas del Sol, Burning Sister, Cachemira, Candlemass, Carcaño, Carson, Cave In, Chat Pile, Church of the Sea, Circle of Sighs, Come to Grief, Crippled Black Phoenix, Crowbar, Michael Rudolph Cummings, Deathwhite, Deer Creek, Desert Wave, Deville, Dirty Streets, DRÖÖG, DUNDDW, Dune Sea, Dystopian Future Movies, Early Moods, Electric Mountain, El Perro, E-L-R, End Boss, Evert Snyman & The Aviary, Firebreather, Foot, Fostermother, Freebase Hyperspace, FutureProjektor, Fuzz Sagrado, Garden of Worm, Gaupa, Gnome, Goatriders, Greenbeard, Half Gramme of Soma, Horehound, Humanotone, Ian Blurton’s Future Now, James Romig/Mike Scheidt, Jawless, Kadavermarch, Kaleidobolt, Kanaan, Kandodo4, Kryptograf, LáGoon, Erik Larson, Les Lekin, Lydsyn, Madness, Mammoth Volume, Melt Motif, Mezzoa, MIGHT, Mirror Queen, Mother of Graves, Motorpsycho, Mount Desert, Mount Saturn, My Diligence, Mythic Sunship, Nadja, Ode and Elegy, Oktas, Olson Van Cleef and Williams, Ol’ Time Moonshine, Onségen Ensemble, Orango, Øresund Space Collective, Papir, Paralyzed, People of the Black Circle, Pia Isa, Pike vs. the Automaton, Psychlona, Red Eye, Reverend Mother, Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, Rocky Mtn Roller, Ruby the Hatchet, Russian Circles, Seremonia, Sergeant Thunderhoof, Sergio Ch., Seven Nines and Tens, Sleepwulf, Slowenya, Soldat Hans, Somnus Throne, Sonja, Sons of Arrakis, Steak, Știu Nu Știu, Sula Bassana, Sum of R, Supplemental Pills, Swamp Lantern, The Swell Fellas, Tekarra, T.G. Olson, Trace Amount, Uncle Woe, Vitskär Süden, Voivod, Eric Wagner, Weddings, Wild Rocket, and Yatra.
Notes:
Some of these, in comparison to the year-end poll, are more popular picks than others. As always, part of what I base my list on is my own listening habits, so if my list is different than yours, well, I’m a different person. Mystery solved.
That said, I acknowledge that especially at post-time, this is preliminary and I am — at times overwhelmingly — fallible. While I keep a running list all year of standout records, based on my preferences as well as what I perceive as critical value separate from them within a given subset of styles, and despite the fact that I’ve gone back through the more than 300 releases that have been reviewed (so far) in 2022 to make this list, it’s possible and indeed likely I’ve forgotten somebody, left someone out who deserves to be here.
If that’s the case — and based on just about every other year I’ve done this, it very likely is — I ask again that you please be kind in pointing out whatever that may be and whyever you believe it should be where it isn’t. Maybe your pick for the best release of 2022 isn’t here at all. Instead of calling me a dipshit and an idiot, let’s try to celebrate the fact that in a single heavy underground, there can be such a diverse range of opinions and different artists and styles to appreciate, and how fortunate we are to be alive at a time when so much incredible art is available at the click of a make-believe button. Also indoor plumbing and penicillin, but that’s a different conversation entirely and best left to another day.
Last year, I limited honorable mentions to 60 to correspond with the numbered list. I’ve got over 115 bands listed above, and if in combination with the top 60 itself you find that to be an insurmountable swath of releases, good. That’s the point. We are surrounded by beauty every day. It can be difficult to keep this in mind, but there is little that’s more important than knowing that. I thank you for your attention and hope, as ever, that you find something in all of this that speaks to you.
—
Debut Album of the Year 2022
The Otolith, Folium Limina
Other notable debuts (somewhat alphabetically):
AAWKS, Heavy on the Cosmic
Arð, Take Up My Bones
Basalt Shrine, From Fiery Tongues
Burning Sister, Mile High Downer Rock
Burn the Sun, Le Roi Soleil
Chat Pile, God’s Country
Church of the Sea, Odalisque
Come to Grief, When the World Dies
DRÖÖG, DRÖÖG
Early Moods, Early Moods
Edena Gardens, Edena Gardens
El Perro, Hair Of…
Elk Witch, Beyond the Mountain
End Boss, They Seek My Head
Faetooth, Remnants of the Vessel
Freebase Hyperspace, Planet High
The Gray Goo, 1943
High Noon Kahuna, Killing Spree
Jawless, Warrizer
Kadavermarch, Into Oblivion
Kamru, Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe
Les Nadie, Destierro y Siembra
Limousine Beach, Limousine Beach
London Odense Ensemble, Jaiyede Sessions Vol. 1
Lydsyn, Lydsyn
Magnatar, Crushed
Maunra, Monarch
Mother Bear, Zamonian Occultism
Mount Desert, Fear the Heart
Mount Saturn, O Great Moon
Mythosphere, Pathological
Ode and Elegy, Ode and Elegy
Oktas, The Finite and the Infinite
People of the Black Circle, People of the Black Circle
Pia Isa, Distorted Chants
Reverend Mother, Damned Blessing
Rocky Mtn Roller, Haywire
Room 101, Sightless
SAPNA, SAPNA
Sky Pig, It Thrives in Darkness
Sonja, Loud Arriver
Sons of Arrakis, Volume 1
Supersonic Blues, It’s Heavy
Supplemental Pills, Volume 1
Swamp Lantern, The Lord is With Us
UWUW, UWUW
Venus Principle, Stand in Your Light
VoidOath, Ascension Beyond Kokytus
Voidward, Voidward
Yawn, Materialism
Notes:
I struggled this year with what counted as a debut album. As noted above, four-fifths of The Otolith were in a previous band together. Is this a first record or a continuing collaboration? What about Mythosphere, born out of Beelzefuzz? Come to Grief? Edena Gardens? Lydsyn? Ultimately I decided to err on the side of inclusion, as you can see, and count it all. I will not apologize for that.
The Otolith’s Folium Limina stood alone as the year’s best debut, but other personal favorites here were Sky Pig, Mythosphere, Early Moods (who are among the brightest hopes for traditional doom in my mind), Supersonic Blues, Mount Saturn, End Boss, Les Nadie and UWUW, and Edena Gardens — if you’re looking for recommendations of places to start before diving into the weedian mischief of The Gray Goo. Some of these got more hype than others, and there’s a fairly broad range of styles represented, but even as grim as the material on this list gets, these acts and artists are united by the potential they represent for pushing heavy music forward, covering new ground and exploring new ideas as only fresh perspectives can.
At the beginning, I asked you to note how many second LPs were included in the overall list, and it did feel like a lot to me. With the quality in this list as well, I would not expect that to change in the next few years to come, as generational turnover and post-covid reshuffling continue to shake out.
Short Release of the Year 2022
Domkraft & Slomatics, Ascend/Descend Split LP
Other notable EPs, Splits, Demos, etc.:
Ascia, III
Black Math Horseman, Black Math Horseman
Blasting Rod, Mirror Moon Ascending
Bloodshot Buffalo, Light EP
Captain Caravan & Kaiser, Turned to Stone Ch. 6
The Cimmerian, Thrice Majestic
Elephant Tree, Track by Track
Fatso Jetson & All Souls, Live From Total Annihilation
The Freeks, Miles of Blues
Lammping, Stars We Lost
Lightrain, AER
Naxatras, Live in Athens
Pyre Fyre, Rinky Dink City/Slow Cookin’
Red Mesa, Forest Cathedral
Ruby the Hatchet, Live at Earthquaker
Sâver & Frøkedal, Split
Saturna & Electric Monolith, Turned to Stone Ch. 4: Higher Selves
Slugg, Yonder
Temple Fang, Jerusalem/The Bridge
Torpedo Torpedo, The Kuiper Belt Mantras
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Consensus Trance
Warpstormer, Here Comes Hell
Notes:
First I’ll say that of all the lists in this super-listy post, this is the least complete. I don’t know if I just sucked at keeping track of EPs this year, but if you’ve got more you’d like to add to the above, I’m all ears.
Slomatics and Domkraft took the top spot early. Yes, I did the liner notes for that release, but between Majestic Mountain’s presentation of the vinyl, the bands covering each other and their own original work, it was too substantial to not be considered as it is. Temple Fang were a late contender, and I’ll note the work of Torpedo Torpedo and Lightrain, who are newer acts of marked potential as well. I look forward to debut albums from both of them, if not in 2023 then hopefully 2024.
Some live stuff from Elephant Tree, Naxatras, Ruby the Hatchet and Fatso Jetson/All Souls. The always-welcome Lammping. Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships continuing their intriguing progression, Slugg with a single-track statement, Ascia marching forth, Red Mesa branching out — there’s a lot here to dig, even if it’s not everything. Note two of Ripple’s ongoing Turned to Stone split series being included, and the Sâver and Frøkedal split, which was among the year’s boldest outings while still relatively brief. That in itself is a thing to be honored.
Song of the Year 2022
Caustic Casanova, “Bull Moose Against the Sky”
Tracks from Conan, UWUW, Chat Pile, Temple Fang, CB3, The Otolith, Elder, King Buffalo, Ruby the Hatchet, Melt Motif, Forlesen, My Sleeping Karma, Author & Punisher, Church of the Cosmic Skull, -(16)-, River Flows Reverse, Telekinetic Yeti, Wo Fat, on and on and on, were also considered.
But they were considered after the fact of Caustic Casanova’s “Bull Moose Against the Sky.”
The 22-minute side-B-devouring epic tale — multiple speakers and Greek chorus included — spanned progressive Americana, heavy rock and roll, punk, black metal blastbeats, disco keyboards, and historical narrative with nigh-on-impossible fluidity, mining cohesion from confusion in a singular achievement and at a level of execution that most bands simply never touch. Though its purposes were different, I rate “Bull Moose Against the Sky” of a quality that stands alongside the likes of grand declarations like Ancestors’ “First Light” and YOB’s “Marrow” as the kind of song that happens only a couple times in a decade. As I said above, it is the reason I’m including a song-of-the-year section in this post at all. If you have not heard it, I tell you with all sincerity that you’re missing something special.
Looking Ahead to 2023
With the eternal caveat that release plans change and that production delays in vinyl and label release schedules are fluid, malleable things, here are some of the artists I’m watching for in the New Year to come, presented in some semblance of alphabetically:
Ahab, Ahrbeka, Aktopasa, The Awesome Machine, Azken Auzi, Benthic Realm, Big Scenic Nowhere, Bismut, Black Rainbows, Blackwülf, Carlton Melton, Cavern Deep, Child, Church of Misery, Clouds Taste Satanic, Dead Shrine, Dirge, Dozer, Draken, Endtime & Cosmic Reaper, Enslaved, Ethyl Ether, Fatso Jetson & Dali’s Llama, Fever Ray, Fuzz Sagrado, The Golden Grass, Gozu, Graveyard, Greenleaf, Green Lung, Gypsy Chief Goliath & End of Age, Hail the Void, High Leaf, High Priestess, Hippie Death Cult, Iron Void, Isaak, Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows, Katatonia, Kind, Kollapse, KVLL, Lord Mountain, Love Gang, The Machine, Mansion, Mars Red Sky, Mathew’s Hidden Museum, Merlock, Monarch, The Necromancers, Negative Reaction, No Man’s Valley, Obelyskkh, The Obsessed, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, Polymoon, Raum Kingdom, REZN, Ridge, Rotor, Ruff Majik, Sacri Monti, Saint Karloff, Seum, Shadow Witch, Siena Root, Solemn Lament, Stinking Lizaveta, Stöner, Super Pink Moon, Tidal Wave, Tranquonauts, Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Westing, Witch, Witch Ripper, Witchthroat Serpent, Yawning Balch, Yawning Man, Zeup
Thank you
A bit about what’s gone into making this post: In the ‘Notes’ doc by which I organize the bulk of the part of my life that deals with music, I have sections devoted to the various best-of categories you see above. These are always in progress. I began to keep track of 2022 releases in 2021, just as I’ve begun already to consider what’s in store for 2023 (and beyond). It does not stop.
Because of this, I cannot give you an accurate count of the hours involved in this project, but as it always seems to be, it is the biggest post I’ve written this year — over 8,000 words as of this paragraph, the most time-consuming, and second in importance in my mind only to the results of the year-end poll still to come. On this actual writing, I’ve spent the last week involved in prep work, from early mornings that start at four on my laptop and end when my son (now five) wakes up and immediately demands to watch Sesame Street, to frantically swiping words into my phone in between the sundry tasks of my ensuing day.
I’m not telling you this to brag — in fact I don’t think it’s anything to brag about — but to make the point that without your support, none of this would be worth my time. Year in and year out, I thank you for reading, and the longer I run this site, the more continually astounded I am that anybody beyond myself gives a crap about what goes on here. From the bottom of my heart to the farthest reaches of Hawkwindian space, I am grateful, humbled, and appreciative to my core. Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
And thanks to my wife, The Patient Mrs., through whose support and love all things are possible.
I’m gonna try my damnedest to take tomorrow off, but rest assured, there’s more to come. Here’s to the next round, and thanks again for reading.
Posted in Radio on October 14th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
This is me feeling like I can’t keep up, I suppose. Even in like the week, two weeks?, since the Quarterly Review ended, I’ve basically got another one full, and I’ve been feeling suitably overwhelmed as we move into Fall. The releases keep coming, keep being announced, and it’s just so much. I’m doing my best, and a lot of this stuff will be covered hopefully before December comes around, but I can’t promise that at this point. It would matter way less if records like Sky Pig, Smokes of Krakatau, Teverts, Deadly Vipers, Tons and Witchfinder, Grin, Grandier, Giant Mammoth weren’t as cool as they are.
I should’ve called the show ‘Punk Rock Guilt,’ but no one would get it anyway. I’m not sure anyone gets it now. I’m not sure why Gimme Metal continues to let me do this, but I’m happy they do. Anyway, for me personally this one’s all about the moment when it hits into Caustic Casanova’s “Bull Moose Against the Sky” from their just-released Glass Enclosed Nerve Center (review here) album, but I’m also reminding myself how much I dug that Ufomammut album and how just because Scott Kelly turned out to be a phony and a shit it doesn’t mean everything Neurot Recordings ever put out should be shunned like a mouthy Amish person. Also threw in some Kyuss, to remind myself I like them. Like, oh yeah, Kyuss. That’s a thing the internet and I agree on.
Bottom line is it’s a show with music I think will help your day, from All Souls and Sasquatch to Faith in Jane and the new Papir/Causa Sui collaboration Edena Gardens. If I’m going to take up two hours of Gimme Metal’s precious airtime — space on the internet may be unlimited and ever expanding, but time is still time — the least I can do is play good shit. So that’s what I’m doing.
Thanks if you listen and thanks for reading.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 10.14.22 (VT = voice track)
Deadly Vipers
Welli Welloo
Low City Drone
Smokes of Krakatau
Septic
Smokes of Krakatau
Sky Pig
Motionless
It Thrives in Darkness
VT
Sasquatch
Live Snakes
Fever Fantasy
Ufomammut
Psychostasia
Fenice
Giant Mammoth
Circle
Holy Sounds
Teverts
Road to Awareness
The Lifeblood
Kyuss
100 Degrees
Welcome to Sky Valley
Grin
Transcendence
Phantom Knocks
Tons
A Hash Day’s Night
Hashension
Grandier
Viper Soul
The Scorn and Grace of Crows
All Souls
Roam
Ghosts Among Us
Witchfinder
Ghosts Happen to Fade
Forgotten Mansion
Edena Gardens
Hidebound
Edena Gardens
Faith in Jane
The Seeker
Axe to Oak
VT
Caustic Casanova
Bull Moose Against the Sky
Glass Enclosed Nerve Center
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Oct. 28 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 26th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
A few different tours coming together here, right? Stoned Jesus, Greenleaf and Somali Yacht Club on the road together. Elder, Pallbearer and Irist. Hippie Death Cult out there on their own now that their would’ve-been-tourmates High Reeper dropped off. Naxatras making the rounds. Sasquatch doing like they do on a stretch with Orange Goblin before continuing a longer European run (you should always stretch first; ain’t nobody getting younger). Electric Citizen out with Fu Manchu. All of this is organized, mapped out ahead of time, and a lot of it is starting this weekend at Up in Smoke 2022 in Pratteln, Switzerland, as though to save you the time, money and effort necessary to hit up all these individual tours, which may or may not be routed everywhere to start with.
You can see the final lineup below with Fu Manchu, Orange Goblin and Elder getting top billing, and as the first of Sound of Liberation‘s Fall festivals in Europe — Keep it Low in Munich and Desertfest Belgium will follow in the coming weeks, and there’s a bunch of others besides — Up in Smoke is distinguished by vibe even more than timing. I’ve always been curious what it would feel like to sleep in the venue after a show. Indoor camping. Are there showers? Could be a pretty smelly affair by the third day; Up in Stink Lines, if you will. But more about the mindset. Are you so locked into the experience at that point that you wake up, find breakfast and are ready to roll as a part of the thing? I’m not sure I’d ever actually be brave enough to do it — not exactly the camping type in any context — but it could be interesting. Sound of Liberation has also posted the time-table, if you’d like to know more about what time to wake up.
The lineup below is final final final, and the day splits make it look like one hell of a festival. If you’re going to be there, I hope it’s a blast. I’d love to hear about it:
UP IN SMOKE 2022 – DAY SPLIT & DAY TICKETS – UP IN SMOKE FESTIVAL Z7 Pratteln 2022
Posted in Features on August 20th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Early
You never have to wait long when you’re on the strip to see the next plane fly overhead. That’s part of the image of the whole thing. Movers and shakers, people going places. I don’t see myself that way. I’m more the wiggly type.
The Starbucks — there might be two — wasn’t crowded and tastes a bit like burning but I don’t care. I found some THC tablet things up at the dispensary the other night and because I’m 40 years old and someone who thinks and operates in precisely this manner, I budgeted them out for the next few days and will accordingly be mildly stoned from here on out. My original plan had been to come here, get ahold of a bunch of mushrooms and blow my brains out for the weekend, writing all the while in what I’m sure would be a fit on too-damn-long sentences that I’d think were brilliant until I read them later and realized they were all about dragons and tearing down the capitalist uberstructure that allows shit like this to exist in the first place, let alone me to get away with being here to see it. The singer from Uniform yesterday, between one pissed off song and the next, started talking between songs and then shut it down. “Never mind. You don’t want to hear what I have to say.” I kind of did.
Curious at least where the commentary might start. Making thongs and heels the apparently-mandatory pool attire for waitstaff? The $15 water bottle? This is a party town. Party don’t come cheap, and in terms of vibe I’ve never experienced anything else like where I am now. Divorcing the fest from the inherently predatory aspects of any casino experience for a moment — which I don’t think you’re supposed to do, but I have neither the cash nor inclination to gamble, so there it is; and there goes another airplane — because it’s all a fucking trap and we’re dancing around the edge of it, addled with drink and chemical reactions in reckless checked out bliss. Heard Cancer Christ ripped up a Bible in the Redtail last night after I went to bed. Somebody had to sweep that up.
I think I’d like another tattoo. Any ideas?
But again, to remove the fest from its surroundings, to try and separate ‘sub-‘ from culture, is nearly impossible. And the true innovation Psycho had made isn’t so much in getting GZA to come play chess — though that’s awesome too — but in taking the aesthetics of underground culture, mostly based around metal even when it’s not metal specifically, and using them as a means to infiltrate a broader cross-section of institutions. I heard “Lady in Red” on my way to Starbucks to get coffee. In about half an hour, Sanguisugabogg are going to take stage in what I’m pretty sure is a seated ballroom. Guess I’ll find out. That achievement, as well as the procuring of the significant financial backing to make it happen, isn’t to be understated. An accomplishment of scale and scope the results for which will manifest over the next three days.
Thankfully, that will mostly happen inside.
Later
The death growls of Sanguisugabogg are blending with the mall tunes, distortion underlying safe ’80s-ish synthpop, and I almost hate to say it, but it’s kind of working for me, sound-wise. I’m pretty sure this is what my nightmares sound like.
Watched enough of them — the ones with all the esses and gees, please don’t make me type it again — to know that they’re a good time musically. And that there are no seats up there. One way or the other, 11AM death mosh is perfect for Psycho Las Vegas. It should be a tradition if it already isn’t. More coffee called and I made my way out, but no regrets for having seen the Rose Ballroom, which is kind of just up in the corner of the third floor. I’ve come to understand this might just be what casino hotel resorts are, but I promise you I have no idea in that regard. Also watched enough of them to know that every dude in that band could and just might on a given day beat my ass. I’m sure they’re sweethearts though. They had Mike Gitter out at 11AM, which is all the endorsement you’ll ever need as far as I’m concerned.
I’ve lost just about all sense of time now. If not for my phone giving me minute-by-minute updates on the matter I’m pretty sure I’d be a goner. There’s a horn being played somewhere. It’s cutting through the echoing distorted noise from Sanguisugabogg and the bassy muzak and goodness gracious maybe I’m a goner anyway. Gotta hydrate.
Sitting outside the pizza place, where I’ve been a good portion of the morning by now. It’s almost a chair and it’s definitely free, so it gets the prize. Festival types are up and about by now, either getting food, outside smoking, whatever it is. I feel like I’m from another planet. Maybe everyone does? I look at people going about their business though, just living, and that’s not how I operate. Even in this weirdo microculture, in my most honest moments I never quite feel like I belong. Anywhere. There goes another plane.
In other words, it’s not the world with the problem, it’s me.
I wish that was new information.
Later again
Dreadnought and Stinking Lizaveta present dueling and likewise accurate visions of what constitutes salvation. Hippie Death Cult back this with unexpectedly metallic progressions; a bit of march from that expansive drum kit. This allows me to rediscover the antidote to that feeling, that so-in-my-own-head isolation, which of course is the fucking music. Granted, being unworthy is kind of my running theme of Psycho so far — underscored by various security personnel who’ve all been polite enough in telling me I can or can’t bring this or that to stages, or go here or there or take pictures or whathaveyou; my ‘I’ve got an email that says I can be here’ is getting a workout — but watching Dreadnought is pretty goddamned special. Even compared to seeing them here in 2018 — well, not here, but at Psycho — they played like a band who know they’re on fire, and they are. Don’t let me get all hyped up, but after missing them in NYC, to see them here is a boon.
Same goes for Hippie Death Cult, and Stinking Lizaveta I’ll watch any day of any week and call it a good day. The music radiates joy.
That one-two-three was my must-stuff for the day, which means that everything else is gravy. I sat for a while after Hippie Death Cult finished, found a chair in back of the Dawg House, then decided I’d pop up to the Event Center and see if I could shoot Wolves in the Throne Room. Somewhere along the way someone sent an edict about backpacks I guess.
There was some back and forth — got that email out again — and yeah, turns out I could shoot Wolves in the Throne Room, and they went on about 15 minutes late but that was still plenty of time to pretend I was in a forest for the second time of the day, pit stop back in my room, and make it to Great Electric Quest’s party back at at Dawg House. In addition to rocking, they did just about everything possible to engage the crowd short of handing out ice cream. Seemed to work for them though and they absolutely brought it. They played like there were 400 people in the room, which there weren’t, and played one more song when demanded by the crowd to do so. Rock and roll show. Pretty sure it’s my first time seeing them. And they used that space on the stage. Up on amps, waving a big green flag, turning classic heavy vibes into epics. They were easy to dig, so I did.
Later even than that was
A little disorienting? Good. That’s the idea. Time has passed, that’s all you need to know. If you want to know exactly what time it is, you should probably have a different pass. Or not. I’m not really clear on it.
I’m probably the wrong person to be discussing Emperor’s legacy, influence or anything like that, but hell’s bells, I own those records and I can appreciate it. My final three bands of the day were Sasquatch, Mothership and Emperor. So, you know, another night in Anytown USA. Sasquatch came through New York recently but I couldn’t go because let’s face it, my life is way more set up for leaving for a few days once every couple months than it is for going out on a given Friday night, and that’s just where it’s at right now. But to see them any night, anyplace, is a win. Band would seem to have spent the entirety of lockdown on absolute fire, since the second venues opened back up they hit it.
Their US tour is almost done, then Australia/New Zealand, then five weeks in Europe. That’s a working fucking band. They played like one. Keith Gibbs on guitar/vocals, Jason Casanova on bass and backing vocals that every time I hear them live I feel like should be used more, and Craig Goshdarn Riggs on drums and a bit more vocals, and they’re just electric. Even in the years since Riggs joined — what, five years ago now? — they’ve gotten tighter in a way that apparently two years without gigs hasn’t dulled so far as I can tell. Or maybe I’m just saying that because Riggs threw a drum stick and hit me with it and I’m worried if I don’t say nice things about the band he might do it again next show. He’s a madman, you know. They all are, those Sasquatch types.
Both they and Mothership brought people into the Dawg House, and fair enough. Neither is an unknown quantity, here or otherwise, but honestly they both killed it dead. Took Mothership about 30 seconds to warm up and they were gone after that. I’d say good luck keeping up, but their grooves make it easy enough to follow where they’re headed, and Kelley and Kyle Juett out front while Judge Smith holds it all together behind. I suppose the kicker there is there’s no real danger of it coming apart, right? These guys are pro-shop heavy rock and roll. They know their sound and their songs inside out, and for all the fucking around, there’s not much actual fucking around, even in jams and introducing the band, saying hi to the members of Rifflord in the crowd and so on. Fuck else do you want to know? They’re a great live act and they played like one. It was not a surprise, but it was a blast.
That’s it. Put Ihsahn from Emperor looking like a black metal Robert Fripp on top — not intended at all as an insult; Fripp just about anything and you’re doing it right — and that’s my evening. I don’t know when the last time Emperor played in the States was, but I’m reasonably sure it was more than a decade ago. And if you’ve ever seen them, they’re basically the reason why black metal both rips and thinks it’s smarter than you. The Event Center/main stage tent is huge. You go outside and then back inside and there’s like a hangar and a massive thankfully air conditioned space that I’m not sure is permanent and I’m not sure isn’t. But I’d been there for Wolves in the Throne Room so knew at least what to expect in that regard.
I won’t say I stayed the entire time for Emperor; it’s just not where I’m at. But I did stay longer than I intended to, and I probably could’ve stuck around for more, but dinner and sleep and that’s-enough-of-that were calling, and I am nothing if not attuned to all of those things.
Kind of terrifying to think this is just day one. Not only is there a whole other day tomorrow, there’s one after that too. Holy shit. It’s not even really the weekend yet.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 11th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
True, most of the lineup for Up in Smoke 2022 — set for Sept. 30 through Oct. 2 in, as ever, Pratteln, Switzerland — was previously announced, and some of it goes back to what the fest would’ve been in 2020, but I’ve got two reasons for posting it now. First, it’s a new announcement and the festival’s social media has fallen into some kind of digital chasm I don’t and couldn’t hope to understand, and second, that lineup is perfect.
Seriously, they say there are more bands coming. Don’t on my account. This’ll be just fine. There was one band on this poster with whom I was not immediately familiar by name, and that was Midnight Deadbeats, who released their debut album, Moonshine Carnival, in late 2020 on Sixteentimes Music. You can stream it below. To me it sounds like earliest Dozer and if you think I’m about to complain about that you’re out of your mind. And everybody that surrounds on this bill is someone I’d like to see, whether I’ve seen them before or not. Fu Manchu and Slomosa. Irist and Orange Goblin. Naxatras and Echolot. Stoned Jesus and Sasquatch and Mars Red Sky and The Heavy Eyes. Greenleaf. Somali Yacht Club, High Reeper and Hippie Death Cult. Fucking a.
I won’t get there — these Fall fests are perennially out of my reach — but god damn what a show this weekend will be. Sound of Liberation is handling the promotion and that’s where to go for social media at this point. They just made the announcement that follows:
UP IN SMOKE FESTIVAL: LINE-UP ANNOUNCEMENT
Hey friends,
Today we’re absolutely stoked to present you the majority of bands for our beloved Up In Smoke Festival!
Get ready for three days of heavy psychedelic, stoner rock and doom at the Z7 Fabrik in Pratteln, Switzerland!
Already (re-)confirmed for 2022:
FU MANCHU – ORANGE GOBLIN – ELDER – STONED JESUS – PALLBEARER – GREENLEAF – SASQUATCH – NAXATRAS – MARS RED SKY – SOMALI YACHT CLUB – ELECTRIC CITIZEN – SLOMOSA – MOTHER ENGINE – IRIST – HIPPIE DEATH CULT – HIGH REEPER – THE HEAVY EYES – CARSON – ECHOLOT – MIDNIGHT DEADBEATS
More bands to be announced!
Tickets: https://www.sol-tickets.com
Tickets + 3 Day Sleepover Ticket: http://www.z-7.ch
Good show. Good tracks. Two Acid King songs to start, new stuff from Nebula, Sasquatch, Obiat, Torpedo Torpedo, Les Nadie — with whose debut album I am enthralled; review next week — Chat Pile, Brujas del Sol, Cities of Mars, Freedom Hawk (also reviewing next week). Classics from YOB, The Devin Townsend Band, Yawning Man, Kyuss, Sleep. New classic, anyhow, from the latter and a live cut from Yawning Man that’s gorgeously immersive to end out before the bonus track Freedom Hawk closes. I don’t know how much sense it makes on paper, but it flows well.
I don’t really have a theme here other than “make a good show.” I wanted to mix it up with stuff people might know and not, hopefully keep listeners hooked. Even 89 episodes of The Obelisk Show, I still a little bit live in fear that at some point Gimme Metal is going to be like, “You’re weird, you play weird shit, you never turn your playlists in on time and you suck at this,” and give me the axe. It’s happened to me on radio before (ask me about that some time; glorious story), but hasn’t happened yet here. Still, a nod to accessibility isn’t the worst idea once every 90 shows or so.
Thanks if you listen and thanks for reading.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 07.22.22 (VT = voice track)
Acid King
Red River
Middle of Nowhere, Center of Everywhere
Acid King
2 Wheel Nation
III
The Devin Townsend Band
Sunday Afternoon
Accelerated Evolution
YOB
Quantum Mystic
The Unreal Never Lived
VT
Cities of Mars
Towering Graves (Osmos)
Cities of Mars
Torpedo Torpedo
Black Horizon
The Kuiper Belt Mantras
Les Nadie
Del Pombero
Les Nadie
Sasquatch
Save the Day, Ruin the Night
Fever Fantasy
Sleep
Giza Butler
The Sciences
Kyuss
Whitewater
Sky Valley
Nebula
Highwired
Transmission From Mothership Earth
Chat Pile
Slaughterhouse
God’s Country
Obiat
Sea Burial
Indian Ocean
Brujas del Sol
To Die on Planet Earth
Deculter
VT
Yawning Man
Blowhole Sunrise/Space Finger
Live at Giant Rock
Freedom Hawk
Age of the Idiot
Take What You Can
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Aug. 5 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 15th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I have said so many times in the past, but of all the festivals throughout any given ‘normal’ year in the sphere of Sound of Liberation‘s booking itinerary, I always wanted to go to Keep it Low in Munich. Yeah, part of that is because Colour Haze regularly shows up — kind of the house band — and any opportunity you can take advantage of to see them in your life is a thing worth doing, but also the general vibe of the artwork, what seems like kind of a laid back feel and intention. At this point it’s been going on long enough (without me in attendance) that I’m sure a community of familiar faces has been built up, and as the first lineup announcement for Keep it Low 2022 on Oct. 7 & 8 comes out, I’m in the same boat as ever thinking that if this was the complete festival, done, one shot, blamo, then you’d say it was looking to be a killer couple days in Germany.
That Friday lineup is unstoppable, and Saturday is more populated but right behind it with Fu Manchu and Unida at the top of the bill so far and a reunion slot for The Great Escape (feat. members of My Sleeping Karma), as well as US imports like The Heavy Eyes, High Reeper and Hippie Death Cult (waiting for that tour announcement any minute now). Maybe they’ll all go together and call it the Triple-H tour, thereby proving that they too remember pro wrestling in the mid-1990s.
Alright, maybe not. Either way, with more to come, here’s what the fest has to say about its own badass doings:
KEEP IT LOW – LINE-UP NEWS & SINGLE DAY TICKETS ON SALE
Dear Keepers,
today we’re happy to reveal the first bands for our upcoming Keep it Low festival 2022! Additionally, Single-Day Tickets are now on sale!
