On the record, the melancholic build of “Critical Mass” follows guitarist, vocalist and songwriter Caroline Cawley‘s short story recitation “She From Up the DrombĆ”n Hill,” and with a switch from third to first-person point of view, “Critical Mass” takes on the voice of its central character, a young woman — a “…comfortable learned woman, a competent speller” — who gets pregnant out of wedlock in very-Catholic Ireland and is sent away to a common shame and death not actually of her own making, though naturally the blame would’ve been hers. Cawley, responsible for the craft at root in Dystopian Future Movies and the emotive performance that drives the band’s 2022 album, War of the Ether (review here), explores this theme with sadness, an unflinching eye, due judgment and depth of perspective. Like the title-track and others surrounding, “Critical Mass” is heavy well before it actually gets loud.
What allows for that is atmosphere, of course. As might be hinted by an album that builds up its introduction around nine minutes of spoken storytelling, words are important on War of the Ether, and that holds for “Critical Mass” as well, but Dystopian Future Movies set that narrative to a sound that has grown capable across now-three-LPs to encompass aspects of downer heavy indie and goth-ish melodic pull — if you can take Crippled Black Phoenix‘s oppressive-sky modus, the mood here resonates similarly — as well as noise rock, atmospheric sludge metal and in the later reaches of “No Matter,” a flourish of guitar float that is more clear-eyed than heavygaze but brings some ethereal sense to War of the Ether just the same. As noted when it was being released, Cawley took inspiration from the scandal surrounding Tuam Mother and Baby Home in Ireland, where nearly 800 dead bodies were discovered of the pregnant women who went and the children they birthed there. Perhaps with this frame it’s inevitable War of the Ether would hit hard, but again, its impact is in more than just its volatile pieces.
Dystopian Future Movies — in which Cawley is joined by Bill Fisher, Marty Fisher and Rafe Dunn — played this past weekend at Masters of the Riff III in Hackney, performing alongside Elephant Tree, The Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell, and scores of others. Two more UK fests are locked in for this Spring in Leeds and Bradford, about which you can see more in the info that follows the clip below. One last note to mention that the lyrics to “Critical Mass” also appear under the video player. I don’t always post lyrics with whatever might be streaming on a given day, but I think the relevance in this instance makes it appropriate. If it throws you off visually or whatever, I apologize. I assure you it made sense to me at the time, which is right now, as it happens.
Please enjoy:
Dystopian Future Movies, “Critical Mass” official video
From the album ‘War of the Ether’ out on Septaphonic Records
Sign up to hear new releases before anyone else with our members only album pre-listens. Get first dibs on tickets to live shows and new merchandise before general release. Membership is free, unsubscribe at any time š¤ https://dystopianfuturemovies.com/sign-up
Video by Zorad Music by Dystopian Future Movies Recorded by Bill Fisher at XII Chambers Nottingham England Produced by Dystopian Future Movies Mastered by Lira Wish at Film-Maker Studios ‘War of the Ether’ Art & Design by Rafe & Zorad
Dystopian Future Movies live: StrangeForms Festival – Brudenell, Leeds 6th – 7th April Ruination Festival 2024 – Underground, Bradford 11th May
“Critical Mass” lyrics: Looking back itās clear to know I should have lied So ashamed to admit that now, I didnāt even try In a land that is so drenched in weeping, I know that Iām alone When a hand that should heal is tormented to steal and corrupting your mind
Where is love, where is love and I should go Where is love, where is love and I could go
Only in retrospect can we blame the time And that seems but a weakened stance when it mars entire lives When we wait on unforthcoming promises from a state content with lies When we wait for the order of things to change, while we die
Where is love, where is love and I should go Where is love, where is love and I could go
Your dissent Your descent, I know Your dissent Your descent, I know Iāll await for you
And you hide behind robes And you hide behind robes Despite how we strove Despite how we fought
Where is love, where is love and I should go Where is love, where is love and I could go
Where is love, where is love and I should go Where is love, where is love and I could go
Your dissent Your descent, I know Your dissent Your descent, I know Iā¦
Dystopian Future Movies are: Caroline Cawley – Guitar & Vocals Bill Fisher – Drums Rafe Dunn – Guitar Marty Fisher: Bass Guitar
Posted in Reviews on November 29th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Day three of the Quarterly Review is always a good time. Passing the halfway point for the week isn’t nothing, and I take comfort in knowing there’s another 25 to come after the first 25 are down. Sometimes it’s the little things.
But let’s not waste the few moments we have. I hope you find something you dig.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
—
Melody Fields, 1901
Though it starts out firmly entrenched in ’60s psychedelia in “Going Back,” Melody Fields‘ 1901 is less genre-adherent and/or retroist than one might expect. “Jesus” borrows from ’70s soul, but is languid in its rollout with horn-esque sounds for a Morricone-ish vibe, while “Rave On” makes a hook of its folkish and noodly bridge. Keyboards bring a krautrock spirit to “MellanvƤsen,” which is fair as “Transatlantic” blisses out ’90s electro-rock, and “Home at Last” prog-shuffles in its own swirl — a masterclass in whatever kind of psych you want to call it — as “Indian MC” has an acoustic strum that reminds of some of Lamp of the Universe‘s recent urgings, and “Void” offers 53 seconds of drone before the stomp of the catchy “In Love” and the keyboard-dreamy “Mayday” ends side B with a departure to match “Transatlantic” capping side A. Unexpectedly, 1901, which is the Swedish outfit’s second LP behind their 2018 self-titled debut (review here), is one of two albums they have for Fall 2023, with 1991 a seeming companion piece. Here’s looking forward.
La Chinga don’t have time for bullshit. They’re going right to the source. Black Sabbath. Motƶrhead. Enough Judas PriestĀ in “Electric Eliminator” for the whole class and a riffy swagger, loosely Southern in “Stars Fall From the Sky,” and elsewhere, that reminds of Dixie Witch or Halfway to Gone, and that aughts era of heavy generally. “Backs to the Wall” careens with such a love of ’80s metal it reminds of Bible of the Devil — while cuts like “Bolt of Lightning,” “Rings of Power” and smash-then-run opener “Light it Up” immediately positions the trio between ’70s heavy rock and the more aggressive fare it helped produce. Throughout, La Chinga are poised but not so much so as to take away from the energy of their songs, which are impeccably written, varied in energy, and drawn together through the vitality of their delivery. Here’s a kickass rock band, kicking ass. It might be a little too over-the-top for some listeners, but over-the-top is a target unto itself. La Chinga hit it like oldschool masters.
Best known for their work together in Mammothwing and now also both members of Church of the Cosmic Skull as well, brothers Bill Fisher and Marty Fisher make a point of stripping back as much as possible with Massive Hassle, scaling down the complex arrangements of what’s now their main outfit but leaving room for harmonies, on-sleeve Thin Lizzy love and massive fuzz in cuts like “Lane,” “Drifter,” the speedier penultimate “Drink” and the slow-nod payoff of “Fibber,” which closes. That attitude — which one might see developing in response to years spend plugging away in a group with seven people and everyone wears matching suits — assures a song like “Kneel” fits, with its restless twists feeling born organically out of teenage frustrations, but many of Number One‘s strongest moments are in its quieter, bluesy explorations. The guitar holds a note, just long enough that it feels like it might miss the beat on the turnaround, then there’s the snare. With soul in the vocals to spare and a tension you go for every time, if Massive Hassle keep this up they’re going to have to be a real band, and ugh, what a pain in the ass that is.
One of the best albums of 2023, and not near the bottom of the list. Italy’s Sherpa demonstrated their adventurous side with 2018’s Tigris & Euphrates (review here), but the six-song/39-minuteĀ Land of Corals is in a class of its own as regards their work. Breaking down genre barriers between industrial/dance, psychedelia, doom, and prog,Ā Sherpa keep a special level of tonal heft in reserve that’s revealed near the end of opener “Silt” and is worthy — yes I mean this — of countrymenĀ Ufomammut in its cosmic impact. “High Walls” is more of a techno throb with a languid melodic vocal, but the two-part, eight-minute “Priest of Corals” begins a thread ofĀ Ulverian atmospherics that continues not so much in the second half of the song itself, which brings back the heavy from “Silt” and rolls back and forth over the skull, but in the subsequent “Arousal,” which has an experimental edge in its later reaches and backs its beat with a resonant sprawl of drone. This is so much setup for the apex in “Coward/Pilgrimage to the Sun,” which is the kind of wash that will make you wonder if we’re all just chemicals, and closer “Path/Mud/Barn,” which feels well within its rights to take its central piano line for a walk. I haven’t seen a ton of hype for it, which tracks, but this feels like a record that’s getting to know you while you’re getting to know it.
A sludge metal of marked ferocity and brand-name largesse, Acid Throne‘s debut album, Kingdom’s Death sets out with destructive and atmospheric purpose alike, and while it’s vocals are largely grunts in “River (Bare My Bones)” and the straight-up deathly “Hallowed Ground,” if there’s primitivism at work in the 43-minute six-songer, it’s neither in the character of their tones or what they’re playing. Like a rockslide in a cavern, “Death is Not the End” is the beginning, with melodic flourish in the lead guitar as it passes the halfway point and enough crush generally to force your blood through your pores. It moves slower than “River (Bare My Bones),” but the Norwich, UK, trio are dug in regardless of tempo, with “King Slayer” unfolding like Entombed before revealing itself as more in line with a doomed take on Nile or Morbid Angel. Both it and “War Torn” grow huge by their finish, and the same is true of “Hallowed Ground,” though if you go from after the intro it also started out that way, and the 11-minute closer “Last Will & Testament” is engrossing enough that its last drones give seamlessly over to falling rain almost before you know it. There are days like this. Believe it.
The Holy Nothing, Vol. 1: A Profound and Nameless Fear
With an intensity thrust forth from decades of Midwestern post-hardcore disaffection, Indiana trio The Holy Nothing make their presence felt with Vol. 1: A Profound and Nameless Fear, a five-song/17-minute EP that’s weighted and barking in its onslaught and pivots almost frenetically from part to part, but that nonetheless has an overarching groove that’s pure Sabbath boogie in centerpiece “Unending Death,” and opener “Bathe Me” sets the pummeling course with noise rock and nu metal chicanery, while “Bliss Trench” raw-throats its punkish first half en route to a slowdown that knows it’s hot shit. Bass leads the way into “Mondegreen,” with a threatening chug and post-hardcore boogie, just an edge of grunge to its later hook to go with the last screams, and feedback as it inevitably would, leads the way into “Doom Church,” with a more melodic and spacious echoing vocal and a riff that seems to kind of eat the rest of the song surrounding. I’ll be curious how the quirk extrapolates over a full-length’s runtime, but they sound like they’re ready to get weird and they’re from Fort Wayne, which is where Charlton Heston was from in Planet of the Apes, and I’m sorry, but that’s just too on-the-nose to be a coincidence.
Runway may be making their self-titled debut with this eight-song/31-minute blowout LP delivered through Cardinal Fuzz, Echodelick and We, Here & Now as a triumvirate of lysergic righteousness, but the band is made up of five former members of Saskatoon instrumentalists Shooting Guns so it’s not exactly their first time at the dance of wavy lines and chambered echo that make even the two-minute “No Witnesses” feel broad, and the crunch-fuzz of “Attempted Mordor,” the double-time hi-hat on “Franchy Cordero” that vibes with all the casual saunter of Endless Boogie but in a shorter package as the song’s only four minutes long. “Banderas” follows a chugging tack and doesn’t seem to release its tension even in the payoff, but “Crosshairs” is all freedom-rock, baby, with a riff like they put the good version of America in can, and the seven-minute capper “Mailman” reminds that our destination was the cosmos all along. Jam on, you glorious Canadian freaks. By this moniker or any other, your repetitive excavations are always welcome on these shores.
Spanish heavy rockers Wet Cactus look to position themselves at the forefront of a regional blossoming with their third album, the 12-track Magma Tres. Issued through Electric Valley Records, the 45-minute long-player follows 2018’s Dust, Hunger and Gloom (review here) and sees the band tying together straightforward, desert-style heavy rock with a bit of grunge sway in “Profound Dream” before it twists around to heavy-footed QOTSA start-stops ahead of the fuzzy trash-boogie of “Mirage” and the duly headspinning guitar work of “My Gaze is Fixed Ahead.” The second half of the LP has interludes between sets of two tracks — the album begins with “I. The Long Escape…” as the first of them — but the careening “Self Bitten Snake” and the tense toms under the psych guitar before that big last hook in “Solar Prominence” want nothing for immediacy, and even “IV. …Of His Musical Ashes!,” which closes, becomes a charge with the band’s collective force behind it. There’s more to what they do than people know, but you could easily say the same thing about the entire Iberian Peninsula’s heavy underground.
All-caps Icelandic troupe MC MYASNOI telegraph their experimentalism early in the drone of “Liquid Lung [Nucomp]” and let some of the noise around the electronic nod in “Antenula [OEBT]” grow caustic in the first half before first bliss then horror build around a progression of drums, ending with sax and feedback and noise and where were the lines between them anyway. The delve into the unknown threads more feedback through “Slug Paradox,” which has a vocal line somewhere not terribly far off from shoegaze, but is itself nothing so pedestrian, while “Kuroki” sounds like it could’ve been recorded at rehearsal, possibly on the other side of the wall. The go-wherever-you-end-up penchant holds in “Bleach in Eye,” and when “Xcomputer must dieX” clicks on, it brings about the rumble MC MYASNOI seem to have been threatening all along without giving up the abidingly oddball stance, what with the keyboard and sax and noise, noise, noise, plus whispers at the end. I’m sure that in the vast multiverse there’s a plenet that’s ready for the kind of off-kilter-everythingism wrought by MC MYASNOI, but you can bet your ass this ain’t it. And if you’re too weird for earth, you’re alright by me.
The 2020 album from transient folk singer-songwriter Cinder Well, No Summer (review here), landed with palpable empathy in a troubled July, and Cadence has a similar minimalist place to dwell in “Overgrown” or finale “I Will Close in the Moonlight,” but by and large the arrangements are more lush throughout the nine songs of Cadence. Naturally, Amelia Baker‘s voice remains a focal point for the material, but organ, viola and fiddle, drums and bass, etc., bring variety to the gentle delivery of “Gone the Holding,” the later reaches of “Crow” and allow for the build of elements in “A Scorched Lament” that make that song’s swaying crescendo such a high point. And having high points is somewhat striking, in context, but Cinder Well‘s range as shown throughout Cadence is beholden to no single emotional or even stylistic expression. If you’d read this and gripe that the record isn’t heavy — shit. Listen again.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 1st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Comprised of brothers Bill Fisher and Marty Fisher — who played together in Mammothwing and now collaborate in Church of the Cosmic Skull and apparentlyĀ Dystopian Future Movies as well — the two-pieceĀ Massive Hassle was named in honor of the thing they wanted to avoid. Fair. Church of the Cosmic Skull requires no little amount of commitment to aesthetic, and an outlet for songs not in their bright-harmonized cultish theme makes sense. They’re brothers. In a band together. They’ve been playing since probably they were younger than they are in the picture that adorns the cover of Number One, their debut LP out Oct. 27. Familial relation makes for vibrant dynamic, and sure enough that’s the case here too.
The resulting album is purposefully raw in form, performed and recorded live, and Massive Hassle have been posting videos for the tracks — well made performance clips; I’m pretty sure they just taped themselves making the record, which would be convenient in a way that, once it was done, would be less of a hassle than doing videos after — and the latest of them is “Knife,” which you can see and hear below, multisensory being that you are. Please do enjoy.
Info and the always crucial preorder link, courtesy of the PR wire:
MASSIVE HASSLE – Number One – Oct. 27
Great news to all lovers of real music – large numbers of people still get it.
An experiment has been conducted: via the new two-piece project, MASSIVE HASSLE, brothers Bill and Marty Fisher (Mammothwing, Church of the Cosmic Skull, Dystopian Future Movies) have been releasing all of their new garage-rock / jazz-blues / punk / country / doom-metal inspired hit songs on video, recorded and filmed live in single studio takes, you know, like the Whistle Test.
The results have been most triumphant – in the first two months, our new favourite harmony-singing bearded brethren have surpassed 50,000 youtube views, 50,000 spotify streams, pissed off a ton of internet users with their logo and genre claims, and are on the verge of selling out of the first edition vinyl on preorder – all with 3 more songs yet to be released for your listening pleasure.
Today they announce the release date of the much-anticipated debut album ‘Number One’ – out Fri 27th Oct 2023 on Septaphonic Records.
No longer must music be over-produced, sample-replaced, multi-tracked to high heaven and generally lacking in good vibrations – MASSIVE HASSLE are here to take you into a new epoch where music is played with instruments and songs are sung into microphones for real.
Check out the videos and preorder the new album ‘Number One’ on vinyl, CD and digital here:massivehassle.tv
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 19th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Massive Hassle, you say? Well that’s family, innit? I like the subtle humor there, and I like the semi-alliterative way the name of the project rolls out of the mouth, curling the lip under for the hard ‘v’ and spreading wide to account for the double ‘s’ in ‘hassle,’ and more important, I like the song. The first track from the brothers-only-allowedĀ Massive Hassle — whose fraternal components, guitarist/vocalist Marty Fisher and drummer/vocalistĀ Bill Fisher, used to play together inĀ Mammothwing and currently both feature inĀ Church of the Cosmic Skull, which the latter founded — flows like mellow psych blues early and gets a heavier stretch going later but is still way-soulful in vibe and works as fluidly as one might expect from two dudes whoĀ actually grew up together.
“Lane” is available to check out in a live video below, and apparently that’s going to be theĀ Massive Hassle method throughout, releasing each song from the album to lead up to the album’s actual release. Preorders are coming in about 10 days — I accidentally spent my Obelisk merch Paypal credit on a seat upgrade for my flight home from Freak Valley, gotta sell some more shirts; $25 for a jewel case CD is jarring until you get to the part where it says free shipping — and I wonder if creating and taking on another band has become or will become a pain in the ass, or if the Fishers can avoid that particular trap. If so, they should remember to write a book about that and share the secret with the universe.
I don’t see an exact release date forĀ Massive Hassle‘s debut full-length, Number One, on the preorder page, but it says it’ll ship in Nov.-Dec., so the two-piece have plenty of time to do more video reveals and trickle out information about the band and album, and that’s frankly a lot more fun. Here’s looking forward.
Second single drops this Friday at 7PM BST. The following came down the PR wire:
‘Brothers Bill Fisher and Marty Fisher (Mammothwing, Church of the Cosmic Skull, Dystopian Future Movies) announce new duo project MASSIVE HASSLE, with their debut album ‘Number One’ coming later this year on Septaphonic Records, and the first of many video singles premiering this Friday.
– With Bill on drums, Marty on guitar, both singing, the project started at the end of 2022 in Nottingham, England, with a number of directives in mind:
– Everything is to be recorded live and filmed in singular takes
– All songs and lyrics are written collaboratively in the studio
– Both brothers will sing in harmony or unison throughout
– Every track will be released as a live video building up to the album launch
– Don’t let it become a Massive Hassle
To date, the results of this experiment are a number of astoundingly smooth, thick, wide and deeply moving tracks which straddle a variety of influences including garage-rock, jazz, blues, punk, country, doom-metal, and no other two-piece bands that have come before…’
The countdown to preorders for vinyl, CD and merch has begun – check out the teaser video and subscribe here:MASSIVEHASSLE.TV
Posted in Questionnaire on March 1st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Caroline Cawley of Dystopian Future Movies & Church of the Cosmic Skull
—
How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
Musician: After decades as an avid music obsessive, and stints DJing and as a concert promoter in my native Ireland in my 20s – It took me til the age of 31 to truly begin to write music. I was a bit lost, working in a bar, disillusioned with the education system in my newly adopted country (UK) when, after writing a few songs I was vaguely proud of, I met Bill. He was playing in a blues band with his brother Marty and, as a massive Jellyfish fan – early ’90s San Fran beat-combo led by singing drummer Andy Sturmer – Billās combined singing and drumming skills caught my eye.
Iām looking for a drummer to jam with, I said, passing him his free bottle of beer after their set. We exchanged details. It was a few months later, after bumping into him again outside a favoured late night establishment that weād more often stand outside than within, that I noted his Taint T-shirt and how his beard was so long that it looked like part of the design. We began to jam a few weeks later and those early songs ended up on our first DFM self-titled EP. COTCS came a few years later and weāve been a couple for almost ten years.
My day job is as a Primary School Music Specialist teaching 5 to 11 year olds. Iāve always wanted to be a teacher since I taught my little brother and a row of teddy bears in the front room at the age of 5. After almost 20 years as a regular class teacher, I recently began retraining as a music specialist. Iām now a year and a half in and beginning to see some positive changes. Namely marginalised kids who struggle with school writing Bessie Smith inspired 12 bar blues songs about their own lives. Incredibly rewarding stuff.
Describe your first musical memory.
My Dad is arguably more of a music anorak than myself and we had a constant and varied soundtrack growing up. My parents have told stories of me sleeping between two speakers as an infant, Led Zeppelin blaring, or dancing around the kitchen to Nik Kershaw classic āWouldnāt It Be Goodā circa ā84. But I guess one of my first musical memories is at the age of 5 or 6 listening to my then favourite album, Heartās self-titled 1985 offering in the car parked outside our childminderās house and wondering what āif looks could killā meant.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Writing songs and beginning to record them with Bill in the early days of DFM was a revelation. Something that seemed so outside of the realms of possibility was within reach and almost a bit bizarre – hearing your own ideas played back to you. But our first gig was something else entirely. We booked it in a nearby city – almost everyone I knew was a seasoned musician in a great band so it was entirely too intimidating to think I could perform in front of any of them. This was the first time I would attempt to lead a performance in front of anyone since a frozen brain malfunction meant a humiliated walk off stage at a piano competition 20 years earlier.
Performing those songs and managing a pedal board in front of a very kind and accommodating crowd of 15 in Sheffield enabled my first experience of that ball of emotion rising in the chest, a release like no other as it rose and rose and tumbled out over those 4 or 5 songs. I burst into tears in the kebab shop afterwards. It was adrenalin, of course, but it was also something more. Some chemical composition changed within me and that was that. Iām a pretty heart-on-sleeve sort of person but there was an honesty and laid-bare quality to performance that I hadnāt expected.
The first airing of āShe From Up The DrombĆ”n Hillā – the spoken word track from our latest album āWar of the Etherā on a Leeds stage recently threw me right back to that feeling.
Telling that story in a crowded, silent room – an exposure like no other – voicing a story lived and endured by so many over decades back in Ireland. Those chorus breaks, those wide screen stabs have never sounded so enormous or so visceral. Itās a dream to be part of something like that.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Dystopian Future Moviesā third album āWar of the Etherā is written about one recently uncovered instance of large scale abuse in Ireland centred around the Mother and Baby Homes – where pregnant, unwed women and teens were deposited by family or local clergy to hide what was deemed sinful. Growing up in a Catholic country, where church and state were firmly intertwined it was only later as abuses made the national press – abuses of power, child-sex abuse, cover ups – that what was often hiding in plain sight, behind a thin vale, was foisted into the public domain. And many simply did not want to believe it.
Iām not sure I ever had a firmly held religious belief, perhaps as a child where a romantised idea of unconditional love, forgiveness and the church as safe space permeated our classrooms and religion books in the form of bible stories. But when the idea of priest as counsellor, as listener, as pillar of community broke down, Catholic Ireland never recovered and is ironically a more accepting place now than it arguably ever was before with the recent passing of progressive legislation around abortion and same sex marriage.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Progression is an interesting one. In education we are constantly being asked if our curricula or teaching approach can demonstrate progression of knowledge and skills across a childās time at school. So we make sure that our kids are embedding and deepening their knowledge and understanding of concepts over time – so that some aspects become second nature to reduce cognitive load. Like playing guitar for example, if you are spending all of your time considering the fretting of a chord, it will take over all of your cognitive space leaving little for creativity. So, get better at the little things so you then have more head space for innovation.
Where does it lead? Well progressing within a band with a group of collaborators can only lead to more of those magic moments – the beauty of a super tight performance, moving like a ballet troupe between sections seamlessly. Anticipating or feeling changes in a jam, innately knowing or feeling what needs to happen next during the construction of a piece of music. To my mind, thereās nothing like the joy of a group of musicians inhabiting a piece of music.
How do you define success?
Humans are never content and always striving, as a general rule. So what accounts for success, even personally, seems to be always shifting. That can be good – being ambitious for yourself etc. But real success, Iāve come to learn more recently, is in the enjoyment of each step of the way. No matter what we achieve, weāll be looking to the next thing, and that can be exhausting and mean that you arenāt really that focussed or present for whatās happening right now. Itās hard to enjoy or recognise the stressful parts of the journey but they are just as valid and necessary to an extent.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadnāt?
Thatās a really difficult one – I actually canāt think of anything. I guess even very difficult things go on to teach us something or change us for the better in the end.
Describe something you havenāt created yet that youād like to create.
Iād like to complete a collection of short stories. Making a short film and or working on a soundtrack/ audio accompaniment would be a really interesting project. In many ways, DFM feels like it would lead there some day.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
To evoke emotion and thus bring humanity closer through shared experience with a greater understanding of our similarities and differences.
Something non-musical that youāre looking forward to?
Having some sort of non-band related holiday with Bill at some point. They are few and far between!
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 1st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
UK harmony-laced seven-piece Church of the Cosmic Skull will follow their Spring US headlining stretch (dates here) with a corresponding trip to the other side of the planet for an Australian tour n August that will take them from Brisbane to Wo Fest in Melbourne. They go in support of last year’s oh-so-gorgeous and no less sinister There is No Time (review here), which continued and furthered their thread of ace songwriting, hooky melodies, lush progressivism and dug-in cultish themes.
Fun fact: every time I walk into the gym I belong to in order to go swimming, see all The people on the treadmills, lifting weights and so on, I can’t help but hear “One More Step” from that album, which so succinctly encapsulates that hamster-wheel effect that keeps us all from realizing ourselves on whatever level you want to pick; existential, spiritual, financial, whatever. The villain of the song is the cult itself, but if you wanted to substitute capitalism there, it works just as well. And by no means is that me high-and-mightying myself. I’m right there too. As with so many terrible aspects of human history, we’re all complicit. To wit, I’m writing on my phone. No escape.
I got sidetracked there, but the point here is if you’re in Oz, go see Church of the Cosmic Skull, and if you’re in New Zealand, convince the band to go there too, because really, if you’re gonna make the trip, isn’t it worth hitting both?
Dates follow as per the PR wire:
Church of the Cosmic Skull announce Australia tourdates in August 2023
Fresh from a headline tour of the USA and the release of their critically acclaimed fourth album ‘There Is No Time’, the UK rock group and spiritual organisation are set to spread the light of the Cosmic Rainbow across Australia.
‘Putting the Abba in Sabbath’ since 2016, the groups joyous blend of prog-psych-pop-rock with dark occult undercurrents has ignited hysteria and frenzy across the globe.
Dates – 2023 Friday 18/8 The Brightside, Brisbane Saturday 19/8 The Lansdowne, Sydney Sunday 20/8 La La Las, Wollongong Wednesday 23/8 Baroque Room, Katoomba Thursday 24/8 The Basement, Canberra Saturday 26/8 Wo Fest, The Evelyn, Melbourne
Posted in Reviews on January 4th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
In many ways, this is my favorite kind of Quarterly Review day. I always place things more or less as I get them, and let the days fill up randomly, but there are different types that come out of that. Some are heavier on riffs, some (looking at you, Monday) are more about atmosphere, and some are all over the place. That’s this. There’s no getting in a word rut — “what’s another way to say ‘loud and fuzzy?'” — when the releases in question don’t sound like each other.
As we move past the halfway point of the first week of this double-wide Quarterly Review, 100 total acts/offerings to be covered, that kind of thing is much appreciated on my end. Keeps the mind limber, as it were. Let’s roll.
Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #21-30:
White Hills, The Revenge of Heads on Fire
The narrative — blessings and peace upon it — goes that White Hills stumbled on an old hard drive with 2007’s Heads on Fire‘s recording files on it, recovered them, and decided it was time to flesh out the original album some 15 years after the fact, releasing The Revenge of Heads on Fire through their own Heads on Fire Records imprint in fashion truer to the record’s original concept. Who would argue? Long-established freaks as they are, can’t White Hills basically do whatever the hell they want and it’ll be at the very least interesting? Sure enough, the 11-song starburster they’ve summoned out of the ether of memory is lysergic and druggy and sprawling through Dave W. and Ego Sensation‘s particular corner of heavy psychedelia and space rocks, “Visions of the Past, Present and Future” sounding no less vital for the passing of years as they’re still on a high temporal shift, riding a cosmic ribbon that puts “Speed Toilet” where “Revenge of Speed Toilet” once was in reverse sequeling and is satisfyingly head-spinning whether or not you ever heard the original. That is to say, context is nifty, but having your brain melted is better, and White Hills might screw around an awful lot, but they’re definitely not screwing around. You heard me.
Weaving into and out of spoken word storytelling and lumbering riffy largesse, nine-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “She Up From the DrombĆ”n Hill” has a richly atmospheric impact on what follows throughout Dystopian Future Movies‘ self-issued third album, War of the Ether, the residual feedback cutting to silence ahead of a soft beginning for “Critical Mass” as guitarist/vocalist Caroline Cawley pairs foreboding ambience with noise rocking payoffs, joined by her Church of the Cosmic Skull bandmate Bill Fisher on bass/drums and Rafe Dunn on guitar for eight songs that owe some of their root to ’90s-era alt heavy but have grown into something of their own, as demonstrated in the willfully overwhelming apex of “The Walls of Filth and Toil” or the dare-a-hook ending of the probably-about-social-media “The Veneer” just prior. The LP runs deeper as it unfurls, each song setting forth on its own quiet start save for the more direct “License of Their Lies” and offering grim but thoughtful craft for a vision of dark heavy rock true both to the band’s mission and the album’s troubled spirit. Closer “A Decent Class of Girl” rolls through volume swells in what feels like a complement to “She Up From the DrombĆ”n Hill,” but its bookending wash only highlights the distance the audience has traveled alongside Cawley and company. Engrossing.
Though in part defined by the tectonic megasludge of “In the Dirt’s Embrace,” Filipino four-piece Basalt Shrine are no more beholden to that on From Fiery Tongues than they are the prior opening drone “Thawed Slag Blood,” the post-metallic soundscaping of the title-track, the open-spaced minimalism of closer “The Barren Aftermath” or the angular chug at the finish of centerpiece “Adorned for Loathing Pigs.” Through these five songs, the Manila-based outfit plunge into the darker, denser and more extreme regions of sludgy stylizations, and as they’ve apparently drawn the notice of US-based Electric Talon Records and sundry Euro imprints, safe to say the secret is out. Fair enough. The band guide “From Fiery Tongues,” song and album, with an entrancing churn that is as much about expression as impact, and the care they take in doing so — even at their heaviest and nastiest — isn’t to be understated, and especially as their debut, their ambition manifests itself in varied ways nearly all of which bode well for coming together as the crux of an innovative style. Not predicting anything, but while From Fiery Tongues doesn’t necessarily ring out with a hopeful viewpoint for the world at large, one can only listen to it and be optimistic about the prospects for the band themselves.
Post-metallic in its atmosphere, there’s no discounting the intensity Belgium trio Psychonaut radiate on their second album, Violate Consensus Reality (on Pelagic). The prog-metal noodling of “All Your Gods Have Gone” and the singing-turns-to-screaming methodology on the prior opener “A Storm Approaching” begin the 52-minute eight-tracker with a fervency that affects everything that comes after, and as “Age of Separation” builds into its full push ahead of the title-track, which holds tension in its first half and shows why in its second, a halfway-there culmination before the ambient and melodic “Hope” turns momentarily from some of the harsher insistence before it, a summary/epilogue for the first platter of the 2LP release. The subsequent “Interbeing” is black metal reimagined as modern prog — flashes of Enslaved or Amorphis more than The Ocean or Mastodon, and no complaints — and the procession from “Hope” through “Interbeing” means that the onslaught of “A Pacifist’s Guide to Violence,” all slam and controlled plunder, is an apex of its own before the more sprawling, 12-minute capper “Towards the Edge,” which brings guest appearances from Brutus‘ Stefanie Mannaerts and the most esteemed frontman in European post-metal, Colin H. van Eeckhout of Amenra, whose band Psychonaut admirably avoid sounding just like. That’s not often the case these days.
If you’re making your way through this post, skimming for something that looks interesting, don’t discount Sydney, Australia’s Robot God on account of their kinda-generic moniker. After solidifying — moltenifying? — their approach to longform-fuzz on their 2020 debut, Silver Buddha Dreaming, the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Raff Iacurto, bassist/vocalist Matt Allen and drummer Tim Pritchard offer the four tracks of their sophomore LP, Worlds Collide, through Kozmik Artifactz in an apparent spirit of resonance, drawing familiar aspects of desert-style heavy rock out over songs that feel exploratory even as they’re born of recognizable elements. “Sleepwalking” (11:25) sets a broad landscape and the melody over the chugger riff in the second half of “Ready to Launch” (the shortest inclusion at 7:03) floats above it smoothly, while “Boogie Man” (11:24) pushes over the edge of the world and proceeds to (purposefully) tumble loosely downward in tempo from there, and the closing title-track (11:00) departs from its early verses along a jammier course, still plotted, but clearly open to the odd bit of happy-accidentalism. It’s a niche that seems difficult to occupy, and a difficult balance to strike between hooking the listener with a riff and spacing out, but Robot God mostly avoid the one-or-the-other trap and create something of their own from both sides; reminiscent of… wait for it… worlds colliding. Don’t skip it.
Released in June 2022 and given a late-in-the-year vinyl issue seemingly on the strength of popular demand alone, AAWKS‘ debut full-length, Heavy on the Cosmic sets itself forth with the immersive, densely-fuzzed nodder riff and stoned vocal of longest track (immediate points) “Beyond the Sun,” which finds start-with-longest-song complement on side B’s “Electric Traveller” (rare double points). Indeed there’s plenty to dig about the eight-song outing, from the boogie in “Sunshine Apparitions,” the abiding vibe of languid grunge and effects-laced chicanery that pervade the crashouts of “The Woods” to the memorable, slow hook-craft of “All is Fine.” Over on side B, the momentum early in “Electric Traveller” rams headfirst into its own slowdown, while “Space City” reinforces the no-joke tonality and Elephant Tree-style heavy/melodic blend before the penultimate mostly-instrumental “Star Collider” resolves itself like Floor at half-speed and closer “Peeling Away” lives up to its title with a departure of psychedelic soloing and final off-we-go loops. The word-of-mouth hype around AAWKS was and is significant, and the Ontario-based four-piece tender three-dimensional sound to justify it, the record too brief at 39 minutes to actually let the listener get lost while providing multiple opportunities for headphone escapism. A significant first LP.
The core methodology of Polish trio Smokes of Krakatau across their self-titled debut seems to be to entrance their audience and then blindside them with a riffy punch upside the head. Can’t argue if it works, which it does, right from the gradual unfurling of 10-minute instrumental opener “Absence of Light” before the chunky-style riff of “GrassHopper” lumbers into the album’s first vocals, delivered with a burl that reminds of earlier Clutch. There are two more extended tracks tucked away at the end — “Septic” (10:07) and “Kombajn Bizon” (11:37) — but before they get there, “GrassHopper” begins a movement across four songs that brings the band to arguably their most straightforward piece of all, the four-minute “Carousel,” as though the ambient side of their persona was being drained out only to return amid the monolithic lumber that pays off the build in “Septic.” It’s a fascinating whole-album progression, but it works and it flows right unto the bluesy reach of “Kombajn Bizon,” which coalesces around a duly massive lurch in its last minutes. It’s a simplification to call them ‘stoner doom,’ but that’s what they are nonetheless, though the manner in which they present their material is as distinguishing a factor as that material itself in the listening experience. The band are not done growing, but if you let their songs carry you, you won’t regret going where they lead.
Is it the riff-filled land that awaits, or the outer arms of the galaxy itself? Maybe a bit of both on Bellingham, Washington-based trio Carrier Wave‘s four-song self-titled debut, which operates with a reverence for the heft of its own making that reminds of early YOB without trying to ape either Mike Scheidt‘s vocal or riffing style. That works greatly to the benefit of three-piece — guitarist/vocalist James Myers, bassist/vocalist Taber Wilmot, drummer Joe Rude — who allow some raucousness to transfuse in “Skyhammer” (shortest song at 6:53) while surrounding that still-consuming breadth with opener “Cosmic Man” (14:01), “Monolithic Memories” (11:19) and the subsequent finale “Evening Star” (10:38), a quiet guitar start to the lead-and-longest track (immediate points) barely hinting at the deep tonal dive about to take place. Tempo? Mostly slow. Space? Mostly dark and vast. Ritual? Vital, loud and awaiting your attendance. There’s crush and presence and open space, surges, ebbs, flows and ties between earth and ether that not every band can or would be willing to make, and much to Carrier Wave‘s credit, at 42 minutes, they engage a kind of worldmaking through sound that’s psychedelic even as it builds solid walls of repetitive riffing. Not nasty. Welcoming, and welcome in itself accordingly.
With mixing/mastering by Chris Fielding (Conan, etc.), the self-released first full-length from Tel Aviv’s Stash wants nothing for a hard-landing thud of a sound across its nine songs/45 minutes. Through Rose Coloured Glasses has a kind of inherent cynicism about it, thanks to the title and corresponding David Paul Seymour cover art, and its burl — which goes over the top in centerpiece “No Real” — is palpable to a defining degree. There’s a sense of what might’ve happened if C.O.C. had come from metal instead of punk rock, but one way or the other, Stash‘s grooves remain mostly throttled save for the early going of the penultimate “Rebirth.” The shove is marked and physical, and the tonal purpose isn’t so much to engulf the listener with weight as to act as the force pushing through from one song to the next, each one — “Suits and Ties,” “Lie” and certainly the opener “Invite the Devil for a Drink” — inciting a sense of movement, speaking to American Southern heavy without becoming entirely adherent to it, finding its own expression through roiling, chugging brashness. But there’s little happenstance in it — another byproduct of a metallic foundation — and Stash stay almost wholly clearheaded while they crash through your wall and proceed to break all the shit in your house, sonically speaking.
Though it opens serene enough with birdsong and acoustic guitar on “Intro(vert,” the bulk of Lightsucker‘s second LP, Stonemoon is more given to a tumult of heavy motion, drawing together elements of atmospheric sludge and doom with shifts between heavy rock groove and harder-landing heft. And in “Pick Your God,” a little bit of death metal. An amalgam, then. So be it. The current that unites the Finnish four-piece’s material across Stonemoon is unhinged sludge rock that, in “Lie,” “Land of the Dead” and the swinging “Mob Psychosis” reminds of some of Church of Misery‘s shotgun-blues chaos, but as the careening “Guayota” and the deceptively steady push of “Justify” behind the madman vocals demonstrate, Lightsucker‘s ambitions aren’t so simply encapsulated. So much the better for the listening experience of the 35-minute/eight-song entirety, as from “Intro(vert)” through the suitably pointy snare hits of instrumental closer “Stalagmites,” Lightsucker remain notably unpredictable as they throw elbows and wreak havoc from one song to the next, the ruined debris of genre strewn about behind as if to leave a trail for you to follow after, which, if you can actually keep up with their changes, you might just do.
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 13th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Now’s the time! Or, at very least, next April is the time! Whenever it is, it’s always a good time as far as I’m concerned for UK melodic prog harmony-bringers Church of the Cosmic Skull to make a return to US soil. Supporting their infinite-repeat-ready 2022 release, There is No Time (review here, the seven-piece outfit came Stateside earlier this year and proved with temerity alone to be worth making the trip to Psycho Las Vegas (review here) to witness, and though I shudder to think of the logistics involved in organizing an independent underground tour with seven players involved, you can bet your ass I’ll be there in NYC on April 1 to see the end result of those likely significant efforts. With support from Valley of the Sun, as we say in the US, it’s gonna be a hoot.
Side note: pretty sure I’m the only one who says that.
Nonetheless, I think I speak for all Americans when I bid Church of the Cosmic Skull an advance welcome back, and let’s hope this is a beginning with more territories to cover to follow. Rejoice, and all that.
From the PR wire:
Church of the Cosmic Skull announce US Tour in April 2023 with special guests, Valley of the Sun.
(#127752#) 4/1 Sat – New York, NY – Le Poisson Rouge (#127752#) 4/2 Sun – Baltimore, MD – Metro Gallery (#127752#) 4/3 Mon – Raleigh, NC – The Pour House (#127752#) 4/4 Tue – Atlanta, GA – The Earl (#127752#) 4/5 Wed – New Orleans, LA – House of Blues (#127752#) 4/6 Thu – Houston, TX – Warehouse Live (#127752#) 4/7 Fri – Austin, TX – The Ballroom (#127752#) 4/8 Sat – Dallas, TX – Club Dada (#127752#) 4/9 Sun – Memphis, TN – Growlers (#127752#) 4/10 Mon – Nashville, TN – The Basement (#127752#) 4/11 Tue – Columbus, OH – Ace of Cups (#127752#) 4/12 Wed – Philadelphia, PA – Underground Arts (#127752#) 4/13 Thu – Brattleboro, VT – The Stone Church (#127752#) 4/14 Fri – Boston, MA – Sonia
As always attendance is obligatory for all members of the Cosmic Family situated within a 777 mile radius!
We endeavour to return to the USA and visit Canada and South America for more ceremonies as soon as we can!
Fresh from their US dates across the West Coast in 2022 and the release of their critically acclaimed fourth album āThere Is No Timeā, the UK rock group and spiritual organisation are set for another headline tour the US, this time covering the East Coast and South. In an unusual and impressive feat for a completely independent band – especially a 7-piece rock band who have turned down major label backing – does this reflect a sea-change in the music industry? Is DIY the way forward? ‘Yes I think it is,’ said Church-founder Brother Bill, ‘Or rather, do it together. We owe this tour entirely to the support of the ever-growing Cosmic Family.’
