[Click play above to stream Blue Heron’s Ephemeral in full. Album is out Friday on Kozmik Artifactz and Seeing Red Records.]

True, the blue heron is not a desert bird. They live in wetlands. One imagines that Albuquerque, New Mexico’s Blue Heron — who include the line, “without water we’ll drink the sand,” in the song “Futurola” which opens their debut album, Ephemeral — chose it because in some Native American traditions, to see a blue heron is a positive omen for a fishing trip, or a sign of growth and evolution more generally. One doubts the four-piece get much fishing done in Albuquerque, so perhaps it’s safe to assume their nod is to the latter.

Such would seem to be borne out across the 47 minutes and eight songs of Ephemeral, which sees issue through Seeing Red Records and Kozmik Artifactz and follows only a couple of compilation/tribute appearances and the band’s late-2021 two-songer Black Blood of the Earth / A Sunken Place (review here), the video that accompanied same accomplishing much in terms of establishing the band’s persona as they rocked a barroom venue with drummer Ricardo Sanchez turning in a full-body performance behind the kit. One very much gets the sense that he’s doing the same on the rest of the tracks here, and whether it’s the heavy-but-laid-back classic desert rock unfurling of “Futurola,” the lumbering-into-freakout-into-space-out-jam in the midsection of the subsequent 13-minute viber “Sayonara” or the later march of “The Buck” that sets out into the sandy wastes with a backpack made of highlight fuzz, rhythm is very much at the heart of Ephemeral.

Can’t groove without it, and it’s the groove that ties the scream-sludgy payoff of “Push the Sky” to the angular turns prior, the crunching, gruff rush early in “Black Blood of the Earth” to its willfully meandering, spoken-word-topped second half, like a post-grunge noise solution to the problem of ‘how do we get lost on purpose.’ That’s not to minimize the contributions of bassist Steve Schmidlapp, or guitarist Mike Chavez and vocalist Jadd Shickler, the latter two of whom also played together in Spiritu, whose self-titled debut was issued in 2002 and of whom Blue Heron might be considered a spiritual successor in terms of their general approach.

Shickler — who’s invariably more known for having also co-founded MeteorCity, today runs Blues Funeral Recordings and contributes to Ripple Music, Magnetic Eye Records, the PostWax vinyl subscription service (for which I do liner notes; full disclosure), and so on — and Chavez dig into older-school heavy/desert vibes throughout, and the ability and readiness to break out a more aggressive stance across Ephemeral is part of that, though at the same time, they offer the Chavez-solo drifting interlude “Infiniton Field” and the acoustic/pedal steel-laced Americana expanse of the penultimate two-minute instrumental “Where One Went Together,” and those are decidedly drawn from newer influences; a bit of Lord Buffalo to go with the underlying Dozer, at least in the case of “Where One Went Together.” It’s only fair to read this as Blue Heron‘s omen of evolving coming to fruition in the songs themselves, which is arguably the ideal for the band, particularly on their first full-length.

The broad scope they set is likewise realized among the shifts in tonality and meter, though certainly the heart of Ephemeral is in the fuzz of Chavez‘s guitar, which shoves the listener into the first verse of “Futurola” like Kyuss pushing over “Gardenia.” Pairing that song and the more purposefully vast “Sayonara” — which opens like “War Pigs” at the wrong (right) speed — as the record’s initial salvo has a lasting effect on the atmosphere of what follows, and even when “The Buck” leads into “Black Blood of the Earth,” which is the pairing of two tracks that are the most similar in their intention throughout, those two songs have distinctive resonances. Elsewhere, the shout-topped payoff of “Sayonara” gives way to the comparatively stripped down, backing vocal-inclusive melodic highlight “Push the Sky,” from which they set off into the “Infiniton Field” before the steady, righteously-stoner-rock drawn-out intro of “The Buck” establishes the beginning of a subtle and effective linear build unto its final rumble.

That’s one from which the tense noise at the outset of “Black Blood of the Earth” looses its initial tom-fueled intensity, which seems to be maintained even through the more open-sounding midsection until at last the song lets go of your lungs and turns at about five minutes in to its heavy psych-style exploration, which caps with fingers sliding on strings as one imagines pedals are clicked off and gives over to the acoustic strums of “Where One Went Together” and, ultimately, to the finale “Salvage,” which answers the layering of “Push the Sky,” the head-down force of “Black Blood of the Earth” and reaffirms the threat that at any point Blue Heron can and just might bring forward their sludgier impulses, which they do as the track’s seems to break apart at the conclusion of the album before it turns around for one final clearheaded chorus.

This movement of one into the next into the next is more than about run-on sentences. It’s the flow of Ephemeral as an entirety, and though as a 47-minute LP it’s pushing the limits of that format in terms of runtime, there is not a song in which the overarching fluidity of the whole work is sacrificed.

I am not impartial here, on multiple fronts. First, no one’s ever truly impartial about anything. Ever. Second, and in the interest of further full-disclosure, I’ve known Shickler for about 20 years now since his MeteorCity days, and we communicate on the regular for PostWax, other bands, and more besides. I consider him a friend and often a monumental pain in the ass (which is how you know I really mean that “friend” part). Accordingly, even if I didn’t dig Ephemeral, I probably wouldn’t say so. However, if I didn’t dig Ephemeral, I also wouldn’t be streaming it or reviewing it in this manner, or even telling you this. One way or the other, Ephemeral sets its goals clearly in its songs and meets them front to back.

In terms of my actual listening experience, there are parts where I can pick out nuances from acts Shickler has long associated with, be it the aforementioned Dozer, or Lowrider, or Unida, but even for a listener not coming into Blue Heron‘s debut with my personal context, its melding together of cross-generational sounds is not to be overlooked. The songs are considered and developed, but full of life, and they offer forward glimpses as well as potent nostalgia. As a record, Ephemeral is folkloric in that way, even if the title imagines things coming and going in the passage of time.

Blue Heron, “Black Blood of the Earth” official video

Blue Heron on Facebook

Blue Heron on Instagram

Blue Heron on Bandcamp

Kozmik Artifactz store

Kozmik Artifactz on Facebook

Seeing Red Records on Facebook

Seeing Red Records on Instagram

Seeing Red Records website

Seeing Red Records on Bandcamp

Whether or not you know Jadd Shickler personally — and he’s an outgoing guy, so you just might — the greater possibility is you know his work. One of the original founders of the MeteorCity label and the perennially-missed All That’s Heavy webstore, he’s currently involved to some degree or other in Blues Funeral, Magnetic Eye Records and Ripple Music, in addition to having conceived and launched the PostWax vinyl subscription series.

That this lifelong passion for heavy rock and roll should extend itself to performing should be no surprise whatsoever. Blue Heron will release their debut album, Ephemeral, on May 27 — the news actually came in a bit ago and slipped through the rather large cracks in my PR wire system these days — and they’ve got a video up for the new single “Futurola.” That, of course, is not to be confused with Futurama, which I hear is coming back, and the song and the album it heralds will follow-up on the initial two-songer (review here) that the Albuquerque-based four-piece put out late last year.

Older heads will recall Shickler (in the blue shirt above and presumably the designated driver of the photoshoot since he’s the only one without a drink) as well from his time in the underrated Spiritu, whose lone, Jack Endino-produced self-titled full-length was released in 2002. Twenty years after the fact — and keeping plenty busy in the meantime — to have Blue Heron arrive with their own album only emphasizes the point. I don’t use the word “lifer” often, but sometimes nothing else will do.

Looking forward to the album:

Desert Rockers BLUE HERON Prepare to Release First Full Album Ephemeral

New Mexico stoner metal outfit to issue new LP via Seeing Red Records and Kozmik Artifactz on May 27th, with first single “Futurola” now streaming

New Mexico desert rockers Blue Heron will release their first full-length album, Ephemeral, via Seeing Red Records (US) and Kozmik Artifactz (Germany) on May 27th, 2022. The album’s first single, “Futurola” is now streaming on digital services, along with an interpretive animated video.

Ephemeral is an 8-track, 47-minute exploration of heavy rock at its fullest. Excavating the far reaches and connected strata of stoner rock, sludge, doom, heavy psych and post-metal, Blue Heron transmute years of engagement with rock and metal’s profuse branches into a singular, sand-scorching epic. With lyrical threads ranging from mortality and failed civilizations to mythic fables and cinematic re-imaginations, Ephemeral is stylistically diverse, thematically ambitious and unassailably relentless in its raw, desert power.

Ephemeral arrives May 27th, 2022 on limited edition vinyl from Seeing Red Records in North America and Kozmik Artifactz in Europe and on all digital services.

Preorders are available now via the labels and the Blue Heron Bandcamp.

Blue Heron will perform at Ripplefest Texas this July alongside scene heavyweights including Crowbar, Big Business, The Sword, Heavy Temple, Howling Giant and Eagles of Death Metal.

Blue Heron is:
Mike Chavez – Guitar
Ricardo Sanchez – Drums
Steve Schmidlapp – Bass
Jadd Shickler – Vocals

Ephemeral was recorded at Third Eye Studios by David McRae, except:
“Infiniton Field” recorded by Mike Chavez
“Where One Went Together” recorded at Tru-Art Media by Jose Martinez

Mastered by J.T. Schmidlapp
Produced by Blue Heron, David McRae and Lee Sillery
Art and layout by Mirkow Gastow

https://www.instagram.com/blueheronabq/
https://open.spotify.com/artist/5iNywSwnYX4eMwaQISEpzG
https://www.facebook.com/blueheronabq

http://shop.bilocationrecords.com/
https://www.facebook.com/kozmikartifactz

https://www.facebook.com/seeingredrecords/
https://www.instagram.com/seeing_red_records/
http://www.seeingredrecords.com/
https://seeingredrecords.bandcamp.com/

Blue Heron, “Futurola” video

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: Cory McCallum of OLDE

—

How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

I’d like to think that I’m a creator. Of course, that implies a lot of things (musician, artist, writer, etc.), however it is the combination or culmination of those various things (along with drive, perseverance, the willful ignorance of “the way things are”) that allow for the creation of something new. Calling myself an entertainer wouldn’t be wrong; I like to think that the target audience, no matter how small or niche, is actually entertained by the things I’m involved with, but that part is subsequent to the creation aspect anyway.

I came about being a creator through punk rock. A handful of skate kids in a nowheresville town in semi-rural Ontario, Canada, deciding that we wanted to make music that no one in town was making. Start playing shows, start making albums. Get down to Toronto and start opening up for the touring bands that we loved (and were going to see anyway).

For Olde, specifically, guitarist/producer Greg Dawson tapped me in by announcing his vision of writing and recording some doom, some slow and low metal, after being inspired by a recording session with Sons of Otis (and eventual Olde) drummer Ryan Aubin. Greg wanted the band to be made up of people he enjoyed hanging out with, so that, regardless of content or output, the time would be well-spent and enjoyable (and so it has been).

Describe your first musical memory.

My first memory of music would be listening to Charley Pride records in my living room with my mom. My first exposure to live music (aside from church choirs) would be my dad playing harmonica around the house.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

There’s been a lot of different highlights with different bands over the years.

A fun one was when OLDE was invited to play a studio session at the National Post (a Canadian national newspaper that was developing online content at the time; it’s on YouTube). We played a few songs, at typical OLDE volume, and were pleased to hear that the producers got noise complaints from four floors in each direction AND there were rumours that the sonic onslaught was some sort of terrorist attack on the newspaper’s offices. That was pretty unique.

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

I’ve had to quit bands before that were populated with people I dearly love because my life (both “real” life and my artistic life) was moving in a different direction at the time. I can’t even say now whether those decisions were the right ones, but they felt necessary at the time. I feel, as a creator, if you aren’t 100% “into” what you are doing, you need to take a step back and assess whether your time and efforts are being used most effectively. And if it ends up they are not, maybe you need to move on, even if it hurts.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

Well, I suppose it could and SHOULD lead to the place that the artist is hoping to reach. However, that place itself isn’t a static destination, or, in my opinion, it shouldn’t be. The album I dreamed of making when I started at the age of 17….well, I’d like to think that I’ve well-surpassed what I thought then were unsurpassable goals. However, my targets simultaneously have become more specific and more vague, which might confuse the audience. Heaven knows it confuses me at times. On a project to project basis, I have a new goal each and every time I set out, a new sound I want to capture or a new story I want to tell or a new area I want to explore. At the same time, in the grand scheme of my entire artistic story arc, that’s where things get kind of vague. I feel that every new creation for me should be a challenge, an unveiling of something unknown about myself as a creator, a gift to the audience or a listener that should hold some sort of new and revelatory element and there isn’t any guarantee that they will actually understand it or even enjoy it. I’m not a contrarian; I truly hope that the intended audience DOES enjoy the art. That does not mean I don’t want to challenge them (and their perception of that band or group and the accepted parameters of that “scene”) at the same time.

How do you define success?

Being able to look back at a song, an album, a band’s tenure or a career in music (to speak specifically of music, but this speaks to my opinion of all artistic endeavours) and being able to comfortably and thoroughly say “THAT captured the moment. THAT said and did what I wanted it to.” To be able to make something and feel that no one else could have made it that way at that time. To have offered the world something that would literally NOT EXIST had it not been for you and your friends making it yourselves.

People “liking” it; that never sucks, and some good reviews and a bit of walking-around-money never hurt, but those things are gravy to me. The self-satisfaction aspect is much more essential.

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

I’ve watched incredible artists (and good friends) literally ruin themselves trying to figure it all out. I’ve had friends eventually (and literally) die in squalor never having gotten to a place where they could balance their dreams with the world. I’ve watched as friends have made themselves miserable and sick not being able to embrace the fact that shitty art can make a lot of money and great art can make you poor. It’s a tough lesson to learn, but if you don’t learn it, the road, then, is even more horrendous than it is is when can just forget all the lies and trappings of success or money or fame and simply serve the art.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

As an artist, I’m constantly obsessed with making something that doesn’t exist yet…I mean, literally, like the style ITSELF doesn’t even exist yet. I’d love to create something that literally stops people in their tracks and has them saying “What the fuck IS this?”. I’ve had moments, certain albums, certain songs, certain comic books or performances, where I feel I’ve TOUCHED the hem of that, where I’ve challenged myself and my audience and briefly gotten to a new place….but I’ve only visited. It’s a somewhat scary place; I’m not even sure I WANT to live there.

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

That answer is so personal to each creator and to each member of every artistic audience. But for me, it’s engagement. Were you ENGAGED by the song/the record? Did it draw you in? Were you able to be IN the moment and the ONLY thing happening in the world were those sounds, those words, those pictures on the cover. The world is moving at breakneck speed; the fact that people have to PRACTICE mindfulness (myself included) is regrettable. For me, that is where the arts are essential as an escape from all of that relentless hullabaloo. A great book or story or song or painting should be able to blur out everything on the periphery and allow you to be able to access a series of feelings within yourself that are inaccessible without the art. As a creator, if you can give the world some of THOSE keys to unlock those spaces within people, you are performing an invaluable service (value definable here by so many different metrics).

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

I’ve recently co-released a fictional podcast that I had a blast creating (The Boringville Chronicles) and that I truly believe has few peers (that may not be such a good thing!). It is wild and wacky and crazy and challenging and deep and shallow and, really, it’s going to have a hard time finding a home. However, Friendly Rich (one of the art-world’s hardest-working weirdos) and I sincerely believe that there is a weirdo out there looking for this one exact thing. If we have created ONE WEIRDO’s favourite podcast, we will be happy. So, I’m excited to see if Boringville finds some friends in that way.

I’m also looking forward to watching my kids (13 and almost 11) become themselves. It has been fascinating to watch them develop into real people with beliefs and loves and dislikes and styles and personalities not simply based on what is in or around the house. I don’t love it all (gah…some of the music….and the kids’ movies….), but studying how they like it, why they like it, seeing what it does for them and to them, and then reflecting on MY life and my formative years and thinking about my parents….it’s quite a fucking trip.

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https://oldedoom.bandcamp.com/
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Olde, Pilgrimage (2021)

Finland’s Caskets Open have signed to Wise Blood Records and Seeing Red Records for new physical pressings of their fourth album, 2020’s Concrete Realms of Pain (review here). Seeing Red will do vinyl for US and Canada and Wise Blood has the tape, after Nine Records did the CD version last year. If you didn’t hear the record at that point, you get a pass — it came out in March 2020, everyone gets a pass for everything except not wearing a mask — but short of referring you to the review, which I already did, I’ll just say that it’s worth the second look it’s getting as it checks off LP and cassette formats.

There are references to acts below like Carnivore and In Solitude and I heard shades of Misfits when I made my way through as well, but these guys are four records deep as they’re starting to hit home, so don’t be surprised when it comes through with an identity of its own either.

The announcement follows here as well as the severe artwork, with moniker and title also somewhat reminiscent of Type O Negative, now that I think about it. Go figure.

PR wire has it like this:

Caskets Open – Concrete Realms of Pain – Wise Blood & Seeing Red

For 14 years, Finnish doom trio Caskets Open have written songs rife with strife and dark-souled riffs. Their fourth LP “Concrete Realms of Pain” emerged from the wasteland of a pandemic summer as the band’s brooding masterwork. Caskets Open’s evocative compositions conjure the frailty of the crestfallen ballads of Type O Negative and Danzig. Meanwhile, there’s also a simmering snarl of hardcore punk that raises a chalice to Peter Steele’s Carnivore. Throughout the years, Caskets Open has warmed up the stage for bands as awesomely diverse as Church of Misery, Wolves in the Throne Room, and Primitive Man. Bonded by a mutual love for this album, Seeing Red Records and Wise Blood Records have brought the songs stateside to celebrate this stunning doom achievement.

Originally released in March 2020 when COVID struck worldwide, Finnish misfits CASKETS OPEN released the album Concrete Realms of Pain quietly on Nine Records (Poland) via CD/Digital. When listening to this record you may recall the dirge of Type O Negative, the vibe & aesthetic of early Danzig, and the melancholic emptiness of country-mates In Solitude. There is probably a bunch more you will pick out as they seem to flirt with post punk and there are certainly moments that lean heavy into the hardcore punk realm, but with that said, it’s along the same lines as Type O’s harder moments or even Peter’s previous work in Carnivore. CASKETS OPEN not only blend all of these influences brilliantly, but in such authentic fashion I’d swear these songs were written between ’89-’91!

Recorded and mixed 2019 at Tonehaven Recording Studio by Tom Brooke. Mastered 2019 by James Plotkin. Front cover and band photo by Perttu Salo.

PREORDER Vinyl / Cassette:
Seeing Red Records (U.S. & Canada): https://casketsopen-fi.bandcamp.com/album/concrete-realms-of-pain
OR shop.seeingredrecords.com
Wise Blood Records (Cassette): https://wisebloodrecords.bandcamp.com/

Track Listing:
1. Four Shrines
2. Riding on a Rotting Horse
3. Homecoming
4. Tunnel Guard
5. White Animal
6. Tadens Tolthe
7. Blossom
8. Soul Stained Glass
9. Pale Hunter

Line-up
Timo Ketola – bass, vocals
Antti Ronkainen – guitars
Pyry Ojala – drums

Caskets Open, “Tunnel Guard” official video

Toronto noisebringers Olde will issue their new album, Pilgrimage, on March 19 through Sludgelord Records in Europe and Seeing Red Records everywhere else. One does not have to wonder long where they might’ve found inspiration for the theme of the album’s second single, “Medico Della Peste,” with its story of plague doctors of old. The band, quoted below talking about the track, are right when they talk about things like blending hard rock and heavy metal influences, newschool and old, and so on, but in making it strictly binary they undersell some of the variety of influence in that track and the surrounding seven on the eight-song/42-minute long-player. Sure, there’s a definite foundation in noise rock and sludge, but the opening title-track has lumber enough to remind immediately that drummer Ryan Aubin also features in Sons of Otis, and on the subsequent “A New King,” vocalist Doug McLarty manages to channel modern metal gutturalism in a pattern that most reminds of mid-period Neurosis. Does it make sense? Not on paper, but definitely in the songs.

So there’s more reach going on here than just hard rock and heavy metal, but kudos to Olde on the humility. The guitar tones of Greg Dawson and Chris Hughes and Cory McCallum‘s bass go a decidedly different route, backing McLarty‘s hard-wrought assertions with a duly fervent chug. Humble it ain’t, but who honestly has time for such things by their third album? Olde have developed their sound across 2014’s I (review here) and 2017’s Temple (review here), and even as they bring in Nichol S. Robertson and Daniel “Chewy” Mongrain — the latter of whom is in Voivod and is one of the happiest headbangers you’ll ever see on stage; he is a joy to watch — for guest guitar solos and branch outward with a bit of sax in side B opener “The Dead Hand,” Olde sound like a band come into their own. As “In Defiance” picks up from “Medico Della Peste,” and really across all of Pilgrimage, the progression feels utterly natural. To wit, the rumbling, righteously nodding “In Defiance,” the aggression and heft of which is seamlessly offset by a post-rock-style airy guitar lead line that courses throughout. A break makes the heavy return all the heavier, and the wash conjured at the finish underscores how much more depth there is to Olde circa 2019/2020 — when the album was recorded — than they’re necessarily letting on.

All the better. “The Dead Hand” picks up after the consuming end of “In Defiance,” and has a back-to-bruiser-business vibe… until the sax shows up. It’s a slow roller, but bordering on catchy, and the brass solo in the second half leads directly into the likewise brash finish. It’s from there that the shortest inclusion, “Depth Charge” (3:47), picks up and pushes further into the reaches of lurching riffs, bringing echoing vocals into the chasm of its own making and casting a hypnosis through repetition. Another solo — I’m sorry, I’m not sure by whom — rips into the low end torrent, and the six-minute “Under Threatening Skies” starts quiet in emerging from all that rumble, but soon enough is underway with a Goatsnaker of a riff and somehow even more aggro vocals. A current of melody comes in near the finish, I think from the guitar, but the vibe is suitably dark in a way that gives the impression the title came in response to the music itself, and much as “Depth Charge” pushed further from “The Dead Hand,” so too does closer “Wastelands” seem to answer “Under Threatening Skies,” sonically if not through direct narrative.

Part of this flow is tempo-based, part of it comes from consistent tonality, etc., but Olde make it feel purposeful just the same, and they carry the record to its finish with a sureness and an ending of brief residual hum that leaves nothing left unsaid. And so they do. To their credit, Olde never come out and note directly the pandemic that may have driven them toward some of themes for their third full-length, including “Medico Della Peste,” but that specter isn’t far off from the listener’s consciousness just the same, and even if the recording was begun in the grand before-times — when shows happened and hugs were exchanged willy-nilly between individuals hardly more than casually acquainted — Pilgrimage is suited to the post-apocalyptic context in which it arrives. “Wasteland” might as well be a story about venues closing. It may be a dark future, but there’s some bash-head-against-wall catharsis happening here.

But hey, looking for an outlet that won’t leave bruises? Shout along with McLarty to “Medico Della Peste” on the player premiering the track below.

And enjoy:

Olde on “Medico Della Peste”:

“Medico Della Peste tells the tale of the plague doctors of centuries long past. The Bubonic Plague ravaged Europe, killing millions, and it was the ill-equipped and under-funded Medico Della Peste who were charged with trying to stem the tide of the Black Death. A story as old as time; a race between science and nature to save humanity. Musically, we wanted to marry our sludge influences with the hard rock riffs we grew up with i.e. Judas Priest, Kiss, etc. Science vs. Nature. New School vs. The Old Guard. Medico Della Peste is a toe-tapping neck-snapper, crafted to appeal to fans of hard rock and heavy metal alike.”

Pre-Order Links:
Seeing Red Records (N. America / Rest of World): https://seeingredrecords.limitedrun.com/products/690900?preview=true
Sludgelord (Europe): https://sludgelordrecords.bandcamp.com/album/pilgrimage

Recorded, Produced, Mixed & Mastered in ‘19/20 @ BWC Studios by: Greg Dawson

Olde is:
Greg Dawson | Guitars
Chris Hughes | Guitars
Doug McLarty | Vocals
Ryan Aubin | Drums (and two fiery guitar solos)
Cory McCallum | Bass

Guest musicians:
Daniel “Chewy” Mongrain (Voivod) | Guitar
Nichol S. Robertson | Guitar
Nick Teehan | Saxophone

Olde on Thee Facebooks

Olde on Instagram

Olde on Bandcamp

Seeing Red Records on Thee Facebooks

Seeing Red Records on Bandcamp

Seeing Red Records website

Sludgelord Records on Bandcamp

Sludgelord Records on Thee Facebooks

Sludgelord Records on Instagram

Like razorblades into the eardrums, so goes the scathe of our lives. Los Angeles-based Keverra waste not a moment in delivering same on their self-titled Seeing Red Records debut album, comprising 10 tracks of alternately atmospheric and churning, precision-doled aggro fury, taking the bounce of West Coast noise rock born of skate culture punk 40-ish years ago and digging into something meaner, harsher, and more thickly toned with it. “Albion” rolls, “Bathsheba” crunches with starts and stops, but the message and bite and disaffection remain consistent.

There’s no shortage of sludge underpinning either, and that they know what they’re doing is less of a surprise when one considers the band’s lineage: bassist Scott Renner tenuring in Goatsnake and playing live in Sourvein, drummer Mateo Pinkerton formerly in -(16)- and ahead-of-their-time victory-bringer metal traditionalists Crom, as well as Buzzov*en, and vocalist/guitarist Kurk Stevens in his noise outfit Mayan Bull, which accounts for the ambience strewn throughout and between the longer cuts in pieces like “Incendiare,” “Anasthetic,” the feedback-driven “Bitter Air of Exile” and “Funerary,” the low static drone of which which appears right ahead of punishing final duo “No God” and “Black Tie Affair,” marked by a great chugging and gnashing of teeth.

The character of Keverra as an album though isn’t necessarily limited to one or the other side. That is, while in a certain sense it trades between atmospheric interludes and pummeling noise-sludge metal, the lines aren’t so strictly drawn, and a song like “Bathsheba” or the later “Object to be Destroyed,” or even “No God”, has the room to flesh out as it needs to. I wouldn’t call anything so intense patient — it’s not trying to be patient, it’s trying to eat your face — but there is a method at work behind Keverra‘s songwriting and while their mission might be distinctly furious, they’re working to broaden the palette of noise in a way that doesn’t let go of the anger at its core but comes across as a little more contemplative; or at very least they’re aiming the flamethrower before they torch whatever’s in their path.

I’ll spare you the tie-in to the pandemic or the sociopolitical climate, or, you know, the climate climate — since all that stuff is overarching and relevant anyhow, and if you find your skin crawling with bitter restlessness, you’ll be glad to know that Keverra‘s Keverra is name-your-price at the band’s Bandcamp now.

A quote from the band follows the video and gives some background.

Please enjoy:

Keverra, “Bathsheba” official video premiere

Keverra on “Bathsheba”:

The song ‘Bathsheba’ is about suppression and the dynamic and vexing nature of its many manifestations.

The footage for the video was shot in March; eerily, just a few days before Los Angeles went into quarantine.

We originally met our friend (Photographer/DP) Todd Hickey that day to hammer out the live portion of a video that was intended to be edited in w/ other concept footage. Given the utter excising of live music from all of our lives we decided that it might be best to take a step toward filling that void by just showing us do our thing.

Hails, stay safe, hope to see everyone real soon!

KEVERRA is:
Kurk Stevens: Guitars, Vocals, Noise
Scott Renner: Bass
Mateo Pinkerton: Drums, Vocals, Samples

Keverra, Keverra (2020)

Keverra on Thee Facebooks

Keverra on Instagram

Keverra on Bandcamp

Seeing Red Records on Thee Facebooks

Seeing Red Records on Instagram

Seeing Red Records on Bandcamp

Seeing Red Records website

The first time you put on the new single from Pale Mare, it becomes obvious why they chose to name it as they did. Not much else to call such a thing other than “Voidgazer,” which is the title they gave it. The track is shorter by two full minutes than the next shortest of its three compatriot inclusions on the Toronto-based trio’s new EP, Pale Mare II — out April 3 through Seeing Red Records (world) and Ancient Temple Recordings (Canada) — and after the initial charge of “House of War” and the gallop-over-your-head groove in “Zealot,” the intensity and focus on impact feels nothing if not earned. Intensity is the fuel that Pale Mare seem to be huffing, but their pummel isn’t just down to tonal weight and speedy riffs, though as “Zealot” winds its way through its apex, they offer plenty of both. Instead, across the 27-minute EP, Pale Mare cast forth a pummel that harnesses High on Fire-style drive without aping Matt Pike‘s style of guitar playing and calls to mind earlier-Neurosis‘ intertwining vocal patterns without being really at all post-metallic. And not for nothing, but I was listening to a track off the new Sepultura record the other day on a whim and “House of War” kind of feels like there’s a little bit of that going on as well.

But this metallic amalgam has been duly internalized by the trio of guitarist/vocalist Eytan Gordon, drummer/vocalist Kevin Richards and bassist James Tulloch to a degree of surprising individualism. The elements are familiar enough, as one might tell from above, and “Voidgazer” has its spoken sample and nine-minute finale “Remains” has its EP-unto-itself vibe and maybe-you’re-imagining-it wisp of a keyboard line worked into its fading guitar finish, but amid the immediate onslaught and the subsequent unfolding across such a compact offering, Pale Mare find footing on ground that’s their own as much as it’s grown up from underlying roots of heavy metal and noise. It is, in its execution, neither and both of these things, and it’s sludge and not sludge, but most importantly, it’s performed with the self-assurance of a band who know that what they’re doing is what they want to be doing. I wouldn’t call it poised, if only because it’s so brash in style that the word doesn’t seem to fit, but in terms of aesthetic, there doesn’t seem to be any doubt on the part of Pale Mare that they’re able to make their songs go where they want, and thus, able to make their audience go where they want. A flash of melody in the guitar during the second half of “House of War” — shh, don’t tell anyone — speaks of more complexity to come, but Pale Mare II already brings plenty to bear, without compromising aggression to do it.

Further, the tendency is to think of a band’s early EPs as preludes to full-length albums — because usually they are — but the form suits Pale Mare remarkably well and gives Pale Mare II an almost punkish edge. I’m not sure they’d be well served by having a bunch of filler or trying to play to a sense of breadth in the way an LP might require, since part of what makes these songs work so well is the upfront manner in which they’re presented, but of course there’s no real way to tell what the three-piece would do with a longer-form record until they do it. Presumably they’ll get there in time, and if they handle that task with the same formidable sense of presence they bring to Pale Mare II, they’ll be fine either way. Anything in their destructive path, however, might not be able to say the same.

Pale Mare have newly announced a stretch of live dates alongside Mother Iron Horse. You’ll find those below, following the premiere of “Voidgazer,” which it’s my pleasure to host ahead of the EP’s April 3 arrival.

Please enjoy:

Pale Mare was born out of the desire to play music that is loud, aggressive and full of thick groovy riffs. They released their self-titled EP in November of 2017 through Medusa Crush Records which was met with high praise.

Having provided Canadian support for touring artists such as Eyehategod, Corrosion of Conformity, Windhand, Satan’s Satyrs, Mutoid Man, Weedeater, Serial Hawk, Black Wizard, King Buffalo, Set and Setting and even Perturbator – Pale Mare have established themselves in their home town of Toronto as a massive force to be reckoned with. Their sound has been likened by some in the same sonic territory as early Baroness, High On Fire, Mastodon and Black Tusk; full of fire, attitude, brimstone, tone and soul – and with a new EP (mixed by Andrew Schnieder, Mastered by Brad Boatwright) ready to be unleashed, Pale Mare prepare to take their sound to the masses full guns ablaze.

Recorded at Locust Ridge studios outside of Kitchener, Ontario.

Mixed by Andrew Schnieder (Converge, Mutoid Man, Ken Mode, Old Man Gloom)
(http://andrewschneideraudio.com/what)

Mastered by Brad Boatright (Sleep, COC, Yob)
(http://audiosiege.com/About/engineers.html)

Inspired by the track “Voidgazer” the EP is completed with jawdroppingly dark and twisted artwork by Toronto based tattoo artist Arthur Mills.

Tracklisting:
1. House of War
2. Zealot
3. Voidgazer
4. Remains

PALE MARE live (April 10-16 w/ Mother Iron Horse):
Friday April 10th: Brooklyn, NY: Gold Sounds
Saturday April 11th: Pittsburgh, PA: Gooski’s:
Monday April 13th: Wichita, KS: TBA
Tuesday April 14th: Denver, CO: Seventh Circle
Wednesday April 15th: Colorado Springs, CO: The Nickle
Thursday April 16th: Las Vegas, NV: TBA
Friday April 17th: Phoenix, AZ: YUCCA TAPROOM
Saturday April 18th: Psycho Smokeout 2020: Catch one: Los Angeles, CA
Sunday April 19th: San Fran, CA: The Knockout
Monday April 20th: Portland, IR: High Water Mark
Tuesday April 21st: SEATTLE, WA: The Funhouse

Pale Mare is:
Eytan Gordon – guitar/vocals
James Tulloch – bass
Kevin Richards – drums/vocals

Pale Mare on Thee Facebooks

Pale Mare on Bandcamp

Seeing Red Records on Thee Facebooks

Seeing Red Records on Instagram

Seeing Red Records on Bandcamp

Seeing Red Records website

Ancient Temple Recordings on Thee Facebooks

Ancient Temple Recordings BigCartel store

More computer bullshit this morning. I lost about 45 minutes because my graphics driver and Windows 10 apparently hate each other and before I could disable the former, the machine decided the best it could do for me was to load a blank screen. Hard to find the Pelican record on my desktop when I can’t see my desktop. The Patient Mrs. woke up while I was trying to fix it and suggested HDMIing it to the tv. When I did that, it didn’t project as was hoped, but the display came on — because go figure — and I was able to shut off the driver, the only real advantage of which is it lets me use the night light feature so it’s easier on my eyes. That’s nice, but I’d rather have the laptop function. Not really working on a level of “give me soft red light or give me death!” at this point. I may yet get there in my life.

Today’s the last day of this beast, wrapping up the last of the 60 reviews, and I’m already in the hole for the better part of an hour thanks to this technical issue, the second of the week. Been an adventure, this one. Let’s close it out.

Quarterly Review #51-60:

Pelican, Nighttime Stories

Split into two LPs each with its own three-minute mood-setter — those being “WST” and “It Stared at Me,” respectively — Pelican‘s Nighttime Stories (on Southern Lord) carries the foreboding sensibility of its title into an aggressive push throughout the album, which deals from the outset with the pain of loss. The lead single “Midnight and Mescaline” represents this well in directly following “WST,” with shades of more extreme sounds in the sharp-turning guitar interplay and tense drums, but it carries through the blastbeats of “Abyssal Plain” and the bombastic crashes of presumed side B closer “Cold Hope” as well, which flow via a last tonal wash toward the melancholy “It Stared at Me” and the even-more-aggro title-track, the consuming “Arteries of Blacktop” and the eight-minute “Full Moon, Black Water,” which offers a build of maddening chug — a Pelican hallmark — before resolving in melodic serenity, moving, perhaps, forward with and through its grief. It’s been six years since Pelican‘s last LP, Forever Becoming (review here), and they’ve responded to that time differential with the hardest-hitting record they’ve ever done.

Pelican on Thee Facebooks

Southern Lord Recordings website

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Swan Valley Heights, The Heavy Seed

Though the peaceful beginning of 13-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “The Heavy Seed,” for which the five-song album is named, reminds of Swan Valley Heights‘ Munich compatriots in Colour Haze, the ultimate impression the band make on their Fuzzorama Records debut and second album overall behind a 2016 self-titled (review here) is more varied in its execution, with cuts like “Vaporizer Woman” and the centerpiece “Take a Swim in God’s Washing Machine” manifesting ebbs and flows and rolling out a fuzzy largesse to lead into dream-toned ethereality and layered vocals that immediately call to mind Elephant Tree. There’s a propensity for jamming, but they’re not a jam band, and seem always to have a direction in mind. That’s true even on the three-minute instrumental “My First Knife Fight,” which unfurls around a nod riff and simple drum progression to bridge into closer “Teeth and Waves,” a bookend to The Heavy Seed‘s title-track that revives that initial grace and uses it as a stepping stone for the crunch to come. It’s a balance that works and should be well received.

Swan Valley Heights on Thee Facebooks

Fuzzorama Records on Bandcamp

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Mark Deutrom, The Blue Bird

Released in the wee hours of 2019, Mark Deutrom‘s The Blue Bird marks the first new solo release from the prolific Austin-based songwriter/producer/multi-instrumentalist through Season of Mist, and it’s a 50-minute run of genre-spanning outsider art, bringing ’70s folk vibes to the weepy guitar echoes of “Radiant Gravity” right before “O Ye of Little Faith” dooms out for six of its seven minutes and “Our Revels Now Are Ended” basks in 77 seconds of experimentalist winding guitar. It goes like that. Vocals are intermittent enough to not necessarily be expected, but not entirely absent through the midsection of “Hell is a City,” “Somnambulist” and “Maximum Hemingway,” and if there’s traditionalism at play anywhere, it might be in “They Have Won” and “The Happiness Machine,” which, toward the back end of the album, bring a sax-laden melancholy vibe and a straightforward heavy rock feel, respectively, ahead of the closer “Nothing out There,” which ties them together, somehow accounting for the 1:34 “On Fathers Day” as well in its sweetness. Don’t go into The Blue Bird asking it to make sense on any level other than its own and you should be fine. It’s not a minor undertaking at 50 minutes, and not without its indulgences, but even the briefest of pieces helps develop the character of the whole, which of course is essential to any good story.

Mark Deutrom website

Season of Mist website

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Greenbeard, Onward, Pillager

Austin bringers of hard-boogie Greenbeard reportedly issued the three-song Onward, Pillager as a precursor to their next full-length — even the name hints toward it being something of a stopgap — but its tracks stand well on their own, whether it’s the keyboard-laced “Contact High II,” which is presumably a sequel to another track on the forthcoming record, or the chunkier roll of “WCCQ” and the catchy finisher “Kill to Love Yourself,” with its overlaid guitar solo adding to a dramatic ending. It hasn’t been that long since 2017’s Lödarödböl (review here), but clearly these guys are committed to moving forward in neo-stoner rock fashion, and their emergence as songwriters is highlighted particularly throughout “WCCQ” and “Kill to Love Yourself,” while “Contact High II” is more of an intro or a would-be interlude on the full-length. It may only be pieces of a larger, to-be-revealed picture, but Onward, Pillager shows three different sides of what Greenbeard have on offer, and the promise of more to come is one that will hopefully be kept sooner rather than later.

Greenbeard on Thee Facebooks

Sailor Records on Bandcamp

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Mount Soma, Nirodha

Each of the three songs on Mount Soma‘s densely-weighted, live-recorded self-released Nirodha EP makes some mention of suffering in its lyrics, and indeed, that seems to be the theme drawing together “Dark Sun Destroyer” (7:40), “Emerge the Wolf” (5:50) and “Resurfacing” (9:14): a quest for transcendence perhaps in part due to the volume of the music and the act itself of creating it. Whatever gets them there, the trajectory of Nirodha is such that by the time they hit into the YOB-style galloping toward the end of “Resurfacing,” the gruff shouts of “rebirth!” feel more celebratory than ambitious. Based in Dublin, the four-piece bring a fair sense of space to their otherwise crush-minded approach, and though the EP is rough — it is their second short release following 2016’s Origins — they seem to have found a way to tie together outer and inner cosmos with an earthbound sense of gravity and heft, and with the more intense shove of “Emerge the Wolf” between the two longer tracks, they prove themselves capable of bringing a noisy charge amid all that roar and crash. They did the first EP live as well. I wonder if they’d do the same for a full-length.

Mount Soma on Thee Facebooks

Mount Soma on Bandcamp

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Nibiru, Salbrox

One might get lost in the unmanageable 64-minute wash of Nibiru‘s fifth full-length (first for Ritual Productions), Salbrox, but the opaque nature of the proceedings is part of the point. The Italian ritualists bring forth a chaotic depth of noise and harsh semi-spoken rasps of vocals reportedly in the Enochian language, and from 14-minute opener “EHNB” — also the longest track (immediate points) — through the morass that follows in “Exarp,” “Hcoma,” “Nanta” and so on, the album is a willful slog that challenges the listener on nearly every level. This is par for the course for Nibiru, whose last outing was 2017’s Qaal Babalon (review here), and they seem to revel in the slow-churning gruel of their distortion, turning from it only to break to minimalism in the second half of the album with “Abalpt” and “Bitom” before 13-minute closer “Rziorn” storms in like a tsunami of spiritually desolate plunge. It is vicious and difficult to hear, and again, that is exactly what it’s intended to be.

Nibiru on Thee Facebooks

Ritual Productions website

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Cable, Take the Stairs to Hell

The gift of Cable was to take typically raw Northeastern disaffection and channel it into a noise rock that wasn’t quite as post-this-or-that as Isis, but still had a cerebral edge that more primitive fare lacked. They were methodical, and 10 years after their last record, the Hartford, Connecticut, outfit return with the nine-song/30-minute Take the Stairs to Hell (on Translation Loss), which brings them back into the modern sphere with a sound that is no less relevant than it was bouncing between This Dark Reign, Hydra Head and Translation Loss between 2001 and 2004. They were underrated then and may continue to be now, but the combination of melody and bite in “Black Medicine” and the gutty crunch of “Eyes Rolled Back,” the post-Southern heavy of the title-track and the lumbering pummel of “Rivers of Old” before it remind of how much of a standout Cable was in the past, reinforcing that not only were they ahead of their time then, but that they still have plenty to offer going forward. They may continue to be underrated as they always were, but their return is significant and welcome.

Cable on Instagram

Translation Loss Records webstore

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Reino Ermitaño, Reino Ermitaño

Originally released in 2003, the self-titled debut from Lima, Peru’s Reino Ermitaño was a beacon and landmark in Latin American doom, with a sound derived from the genre’s traditions — Sabbath, Trouble, etc. — and melded with not only Spanish-language lyrics, but elements of South American folk and stylizations. Reissued on vinyl some 16 years later, it maintains its power through the outside-time level of its craft, sliding into that unplaceable realm of doom that could be from any point from about 1985 onward, while the melodies in the guitar of Henry Guevara and the vocals of Tania Duarte hold sway over the central groove of bassist Marcos Coifman and drummer Julio “Ñaka” Almeida. Those who were turned onto the band at the time will likely know they’ve released five LPs to-date, with the latest one from 2014, but the Necio Records version marks the first time the debut has been pressed to vinyl, and so is of extra interest apart from the standard putting-it-out-there-again reissue. Collectors and a new generation of doomers alike would be well advised on an educational level, and of course the appeal of the album itself far exceeds that.

Reino Ermitaño on Thee Facebooks

Necio Records on Bandcamp

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Cardinals Folly & Lucifer’s Fall, Split

Though one hails from Helsinki, Finland, and the other from Adelaide, Australia, Cardinals Folly and Lucifer’s Fall could hardly be better suited to share the six-song Cruz Del Sur split LP that they do, which checks in at 35 minutes of trad doom riffing and dirtier fare. The former is provided by Cardinals Folly, who bring a Reverend Bizarre-style stateliness to “Spiritual North” and “Walvater Proclaimed!” before betraying their extreme metal roots on “Sworn Through Odin’s and Satan’s Blood,” while the Oz contingent throw down Saint Vitus-esque punk-born fuckall through “Die Witch Die,” the crawling “Call of the Wild” and the particularly brash and speedier “The Gates of Hell.” The uniting thread of course is homage to doom itself, but each band brings enough of their own take to complement each other without either contradicting or making one or the other of them feel redundant, and rather, the split works out to be a rampaging, deeply-drunk, pagan-feeling celebration of what doom is and how it has been internalized by each of these groups. Doom over the world? Yeah, something like that.

Cardinals Folly on Thee Facebooks

Lucifer’s Fall on Thee Facebooks

Cruz Del Sur Music website

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Temple of the Fuzz Witch, Temple of the Fuzz Witch

A strong current of Electric Wizard runs through the self-titled debut full-length from Detroit’s Temple of the Fuzz Witch (on Seeing Red Records), but even to that, the outfit led by guitarist/vocalist Noah Bruner bring a nascent measure of individuality, droning into and through “Death Hails” after opening with “Bathsheba” and ahead of unveiling a harmonized vocal on “The Glowing of Satan” that suits the low end distortion surprisingly well. They continue to offer surprises throughout, whether it’s the spaciousness of centerpiece “329” and “Infidel,” which follows, or the offsetting of minimalism and crush on “The Fuzz Witch” and the creeper noise in the ending of “Servants of the Sun,” and though there are certainly familiar elements at play, Temple of the Fuzz Witch come across with an intent to take what’s been done before and make it theirs. In that regard, they would seem to be on the right track, and in their 41 minutes, they find footing in a murky aesthetic and are able to convey a sense of songwriting without sounding heavy-handed. There’s nothing else I’d ask of their first album.

Temple of the Fuzz Witch on Thee Facebooks

Seeing Red Records on Bandcamp

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