As to what might prompt a video release 14 months after the record came out, I honestly don’t care. I’m perfectly happy for the opportunity to put on Dwellers‘ May 2025 release, Corrupt Translation Machine (review here), that the new clip for “Inside Infinity” provides, and given the quote from Gearly Productions that was a comment on the YouTube page for it, I guess it was in the works for a while anyhow. Shot between a nice studio space and a well lit back alley, the song captures the melancholy of the track from an album that was correspondingly emotionally and stylistically complex, in addition to being an unexpected return after 11 years away from the band.
I’ve never seen Dwellers — they don’t play much, but shows aren’t unheard of; the lineup in the photo above is no longer accurate — but I was fortunate enough to catch a then-unbearded Joey Toscano with Iota in Las Vegas last year (review here), and that was pretty special. The two bands have always been linked through Toscano‘s vocals, psych-bluesy writing style and emotional expression, and Corrupt Translation Machine took the latter to a new level entirely. It wasn’t just a bunch of songs thrown together. It felt like it needed to be made; urgent but (obviously) unhurried.
My general assumption is that if I hear a thing and dig it, you reading this have not only already heard it but probably know more about it than I do, so I’m not gonna sit here and try to school you on the band, but just in case you also want to dive back into Corrupt Translation Machine, it’s streaming in full at the bottom, and whyever it’s out now, I’m glad the video surfaced to give a nudge in the direction of listening to the record again. It made my day better. I hope it does the same for you.
Enjoy:
Dwellers, “Inside Infinity” official video
Official video for the song “Inside Infinity”, from Dwellers’ third full length LP, Corrupt Translation Machine. Available now through Small Stone Records on vinyl, CD, digital download and all streaming platforms.
Dwellers’ “Inside Infinity” is the fifth track from their album “Corrupt Translation Machine.” Order the Vinyl, CD, and Digital here:https://dwellers.bandcamp.com
Directed and Filmed by Gearly Beloved Productions. Video Production by Little Wolf. All songs written, arranged and produced by Joey Toscano. Drums tracked at Akira Audio by Gabe Van Benschoten, Calabasas, CA. Everything else recorded by Mike Sasich at Man Vs. Music, Salt Lake City, UT. Mixed by Eric Hoegemyer at Tree Laboratory, Brooklyn, NY. Mastered by Chris Goosman at Baseline Audio Labs, Ann Arbor, MI. Artwork by Dani Joy @d_joy_art Published by Small Stone Records.
Gearly Productions: “Man, this was so good to finally see come together. We shot this over a year ago and got to build something really special with you guys. Started as a professional gig, but working with you through the whole process — the planning, the shoot in the alley, capturing behind the scenes — it just became something more. We got to see how you wanted this to feel and move through it accordingly, and now seeing your vision mixed with what we captured is honestly awesome. You guys are all amazing at what you do!”
Dwellers are: Joey Toscano: guitars, vocals, synth, Rhodes piano Oz Inglorious: bass
Featuring: Dio Britto: drums Sasha Heywood: keyboards and vocals
With Kellii Scott: drums (album) Chase Cluff: synthesizers, Rhodes piano (album)
I still think of this as a debut. Which is only funny because it was Greenleaf‘s fifth record. Also kind of a debut.
The final release of the Swedish outfit’s Small Stone Records era, the nine-song/42-minute Trails and Passes (review here) came out in May 2014, and it was a big change. For 14 years at that point, Greenleaf had existed as a side-project for Dozer guitarist Tommi Holappa, who, working with bassist/producer Bengt Bäcke, had previously worked with an assemblage of players more than a lineup. Peder Bergstrand from Lowrider and Dozer‘s Fredrik Nordin handled vocals early on, and Karl Daniel Lidén of Demon Cleaner handled drums on the first two records before Erik Bäckwall took over for 2007’s Agents of Ahriman (reissue review here) and then-Dozer‘s Olle Mårthans took over for 2012’s Nest of Vipers (review here).
Those last two records were also fronted by Oskar Cedermalm, best known as bassist/vocalist for Truckfighters from Örebro. Greenleaf was a side-project for him as well. But with the dissolution of Dozer after the release of 2008’s Beyond Colossal (featured here), suddenly Holappa didn’t have a ‘main’ project, and more and more, Greenleaf seemed to be filling that role. They did live shows, some touring, but it didn’t and couldn’t work with that lineup, fun daydream though it was.
So Holappa revamped the lineup, and even then, it felt like he was doing so with the express intent to tour, to make Greenleaf — we’re talking like 13 years after their first EP (discussed here) — a real band for the first time. Mårthans was out in favor of Sebastian Olsson (who would also eventually join Dozer) on drums, and Arvid Jonsson took over on vocals, bringing an immediately bluesy affect to “Our Mother Ash” and “Ocean Deep” at the start of Trails and Passes. Bäcke still handled engineering and bass but would soon enough leave the band for being unable to tour, and apart from an anniverary reissue of that aforementioned EP, they haven’t looked back.
But the thing that made it feel like such a beginning was the context of the progression of the prior incarnation of the band. Agents of Ahriman — which, on a personal level, I consider one of the best heavy rock records ever made — seemed to manifest the classic-heavy intent Greenleaf had always said were at their foundation. It was something distinct from Dozer in sound and purpose, but benefitted from the ever-ace songwriting of Holappa and an emotionality from Cedermalm‘s voice that at that point had only just begun to show through in Truckfighters and now is something of a given. And then Nest of Vipers followed and was more elaborate, with more complex arrangements, guest appearances (once a regular feature for Greenleaf LPs) and a marked breadth in the recording and mix by Lidén.
Trails and Passes, in making the trade to realize Greenleaf as an actual, sustainable working band, stripped a lot of that away. Not all of it, mind you, but the dug-in shuffle of “Equators” and the shove of the penultimate “Bound to be Machines” — powered, it should be noted, by Olsson‘s drumming and an energy that’s become a signature of Greenleaf since — stepped aside from the stately melody-craft of Nest of Vipers. The songs were alive, but in a different way. Pieces like “Depth of the Sun” and the eight-minute “With Eyes Wide Open” had space in their sound, but even this felt like the band going to ground, realigning, and the inevitable story of the album was the difference from what Greenleaf had been doing just two years earlier.
What listeners couldn’t have known at the time and I certainly didn’t, was that Trails and Passes would become the model Greenleaf would go on to follow for the next decade — which, it should also be noted, was the most productive decade of the band’s existence; 2014-2024. From Trails and Passes, Greenleaf would sign to Napalm Records and put out three albums, 2016’s Rise Above the Meadow (review here), 2018’s Hear the Rivers (review here) and 2021’s Echoes From a Mass (review here) — then shift to Magnetic Eye Records for 2024’s The Head and the Habit (review here), which remains their latest offering as of now. The patterns of riff and melody, the hooks and bluesy strut, Jonsson‘s growth into embracing the frontman role — all of these are documented across this 10-year span as Greenleaf went from being a side-project to one of the finest European heavy rock acts of their generation.
Listening to Trails and Passes now, it’s hard to separate it from that context, from the band Greenleaf have become, but this also only makes it feel more like a first album, and in hindsight, it’s an even bolder forward step for the band than it seemed at the time. Imagine doing a thing for the better part of a decade and a half and completely revamping the whole thing. But Greenleaf‘s ability to hold most of its lineup together — as noted, Bäcke stepped away after this album, and Dozer‘s Johan Rockner played bass on Rise Above the Meadow, but Hans Fröhlich joined ahead of Hear the Rivers and has been with the band since — with Holappa, Jonsson and Olsson has led to a continuity they’d never had in their earlier days, and though fans will argue in the way of fans, the tradeoff was more than worth it.
I guess I’ve got Greenleaf on the brain as the band will travel to the US for the first time this Fall, appearing at …In the Key of Doom in New York City and Ripplefest Texas in Austin (reverse order) with club shows between them (tour dates here), possibly with new material in tow as they move inexorably forward from The Head and the Habit. It’s one more milestone for them that probably would never have come to pass had Holappa not restructured the band 12-13 years ago, and the lesson to be learned is that sometimes it’s worth trusting the artist to know what needs to happen to make the art the way they want. It was a big risk and the rewards are still paying out. Listening now, Trails and Passes sounds classic sure enough, but as much for being a landmark itself for how it speaks to the history of heavy rock and roll.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
—
Too hot this week. Not the first time or the last time. We’re in Connecticut at The Patient Mrs.’ mother’s place on the shoreline. Got here yesterday. I’m not sure proximity to water mitigates the heat or not; frankly it’s too hot to get up and measure. There were town fireworks last night for July 4 out over the beach down the way. A bunch of people came. It was a lot. The Pecan stayed up too late and was a mess. Blah blah blah same as ever.
More bullshit with the school, back and forth. Still haven’t heard from the hopeful new one. Exhausting. Consuming.
The Pecan watched a video about how heat makes human brains lose cognitive ability. Sitting here with the fans going, I believe it. I feel dumber.
I think The Pecan’s aunt and cousins are coming to swim later. They’re older; the cousin who’s her age (my wife’s brother’s son, turning 10, I think) we don’t see as often because they live in Baltimore. But she loves them, so it’s nice anyway. I don’t really like salt water on a sensory level, so I threw out yesterday that maybe while everyone was swimming I’d go record shopping. There’s a store a few exits south on I-95 that I like and that has a ‘Metal’ section. That’s usually enough to get me to peruse, and it’s been a while. Would be cool to pick up the Monolord CD, other odds and ends. I could use the time.
The meme I saw yesterday was “of course I don’t have Fourth of July plans, what am I a fucking republican?” and that was cute. As this country has abandoned even the previously-lip-serviced principles to which it once allegedly aspired, I find I’m even less inclined to be patriotic. War, capitalism, colonialism, genocide. The United States of America: it was a decent idea that never really panned out. Could’ve been a cool project until they decided to keep slavery.
Again, blah blah blah. No one gives a fuck. “Keep your politics outta my white privilege,” and so on.
Whatever you’re up to this weekend, I hope it’s air conditioned, even if that air conditioning contributes to global warming getting even worse than it already is. Sorry, but it’s really about maintenance by now, isn’t it? Haven’t we all collectively decided to run out the thread until we boil off the planet’s surface like the 97-percent water we are? Can they use that water for data centers? Stick around long enough and maybe we’ll find out.
Speaking of, I’m ready to go back in the Matrix, thanks. You know the ’90s was peak-humanity because Type O Negative put out October Rust.
Enough. Great and safe weekend. Fuck fascism harder than your grandparents thought fuck fascism.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 29th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
I know that much of what Small Stone Records releases these days also comes out in Europe through Kozmik Artifactz, including recent outings from Miss Lava and Green Desert Water. I’m not sure if Irata‘s Human (obviously named after the second best Death record) will see Euro issue the same way, but it’s something worth keeping an eye on if you’re in that part of the world and concerned about shipping prices and so on.
In the meantime, it’s $10 for the digital release or $10 for the CD and digital at Small Stone‘s Bandcamp, which to me argues heavily in favor of the tinier of the plastic platter formats. Multiple editions of vinyl are there as well, of course, and the first single “Altar” is streaming now with a post-hardcore melody and a tension build as it makes its way to the payoff that comes. Patient but not staid, it offers emotional and tonal depth in kind, and sounds very much like the opener that it is.
The PR wire had this to say about it:
North Carolina power trio IRATA will release their long-awaited new full-length, Human, on July 10th via Small Stone Recordings.
Since their 2007 genesis at the hands of founding members Jon Case and Jason Ward, IRATA has mutated relentlessly. Through four previous records, the band has never sat idly in any specific style, while maintaining a signature mesmerizing and grinding pulse between bass and drums that permeates an enigmatic vision of heavy rock.
After releasing Tower in 2019 as a four-piece, IRATA is once again a trio, and continues to push forward into new sonic territory. On Human, the band is building on the structures that have created some of its enduring favorites, namely, thundering bass riffs, hypnotic drums, and grandiose choruses. They do not sacrifice expression for refinement but manage to have it both ways.
Their progression is evident in the patience with which “Altar” leads off, a melodic confidence that overarches the eight included songs, and the atmospheres in pieces like “Slipped” and the expansive finale “Daystar,” but none of Human is so overblown as to give up its organically dynamic nature. And perhaps in an era marked by the advent of machine-made art, Human can be as much a statement of purpose as a declaration of self. In any case, with this collection of songs, IRATA’s focus on vocal melody and intricate riffing distinguish them from a crowded underground sphere.
The record moves as two sides of one image, opening with reflections of a final chapter, and closing with reflections of a new beginning through transformation; a story being told as it’s lived. What could be more human than that?
Of the record’s lead single, “Altar,” guitarist Owen Burd notes, “‘Altar’ explores one perspective of an unbalanced ending, represented musically through hypnotic passages of introspection cut with explosions of emotion.”
Human was recorded with longtime friends Hunter Allen and Adam Joyce of The Bronzed Chorus at Amplified Acres in Liberty, North Carolina and mixed by J. Robbins at The Magpie Cage in Baltimore, Maryland.
IRATA’s Human will be released on CD and digital formats as well as limited 180g vinyl (100 – Birthday Cake Mix and 100 – Blue Grackle Mix).
Recording engineered by Hunter Allen with assistance from Adam Joyce at Amplified Acres in Liberty, NC. Additional production at The 68 Sound in Greensboro, NC. Mixed by J. Robbins at the Magpie Cage in Baltimore, MD. Mastered by Dan Coutant at Sun Room Audio in New Windsor, NY. All music written by Irata. Lyrics by Owen Burd except “Seeds” by Jon Case. Produced by Irata with Hunter Allen and Adam Joyce. Photography by Owen Burd and Gwendolyn Ball. Layout by Phillip Yeary.
IRATA: Jason Ward – drums, keys, vocals Jon Case – bass, vocals Owen Burd – vocals, guitar, keys
And so we reach the penultimate day of this Quarterly Review; whichever quarter it is, I neither know nor particularly care, I’m just happy to be writing.
It’s been solid days so far. Yesterday was a little harried on timing, but that’s as close to an actual snag as I’ve gotten, which I’m happy to say. The music’s been good, the images and embeds have either been there already or have been easy to find, and there were only one or two things I had to replace along the way because they weren’t coming out for like another couple months. I’ve never been able to keep track of release dates.
I thought about putting a thing in the sidebar so people could list stuff and each week there would be a list, but I feel like I’d be the only one doing it and that’s not how I want to spend my limited time. I want to spend it writing, so I do. And no, it’s not even a little lost on me what a gift that is. It’s why I keep telling you my wife is so amazing. Part of why, anyhow.
We wrap tomorrow, so here’s today.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Ruff Majik, Tan Halen
The central thesis of Ruff Majik‘s recent single “Tan Halen”, that “Sundays are for surfing,” becomes the hook and foundation of this four-song EP of the same name that’s the band’s most substantial offering since they ended a relatively brief hiatus at the start of this year. On the four-track outing, “Tan Halen” is accompanied by “Tvn Hvlen (Tvpe Mix),” which sounds more compressed and vocals-forward, the haggardly swaggering prior single “For the Life of Me,” here presented in an alternate mix that in its maddening chorus brings up the snare and feels more chaotic at the end, and lastly, “Tan Halen (Too Much Fuzz, Not Enough Drums),” which is true more on the second account than the first — how much fuzz is too much for Ruff Majik? is that a pinnacle that’s yet been reached? — but with the drums lower in the mix and the filthy tones surrounding has kind of a garage rock feel, which again, is fair enough for a song about surfing. Only missing here is their first 2026 single, “Can of Wyrms” (posted here), but you can’t have everything. I’m just glad they’re putting out new music.
Releasing through Small Stone Records (US) and Kozmik Artifactz (EU), Spanish classic heavy rockers Green Desert Water bring warmth to boogie and once again distill decades of influence into a cohesive, movement-minded, dynamic package. Eerie Meadows is their third album and in pieces like “The Blacksmith” near the outset or the sweeping “Wolfhound” and shuffling “Bos Primigenius” ahead of the finale “Meteora” on side B, they make it all sound easy, natural, like it couldn’t be any other way. The way that happens is through command of craft, and Green Desert Water are there too in the push of fuzz that emerges at the end of soulful leadoff “Northern Lights,” the bluesier “Holy Ground” and the big crashes/softshoe of the title-track, the trio having constructed songs that can have been worked on but don’t feel like, that engage without cloying, and which thrill in their sundry twists and redirects. I’m not sure what more one could ask of them.
No, I don’t think Berlin newcomers Go Mahhh are the first to posit themselves as being “as high as the mountain,” as they do on opener “High Mountain,” in the stonerly genres, but their tight and heavy psychedelic rock comes through as inherited, and songs like “Happy Satan’s Reign” and the proto-chugging “BBSBBQ,” the kraut-dancey “Anatoliosis” and the percussively shuffling “The Sun King” offer variety united by an underlying current of weirdness. Perhaps it’s all leading to the seven-minute finale “Mind Aussalt” (sic), with its drift and drone and ’60s guitar earlier on, but the band never rest too long in one place, be it the buzzing roll of “Blood Transfusion” or the interlude “MSAZ-20,” with intertwining lines of standalone guitar. Part of me wants to talk about the potential for growth here and the idea that Go Mahhh are debuting with significant range on Doppelgänger, but honestly, the spirit of the album is so much more about the joy of exploration that pulling myself out of the moment feels inappropriate. Some records, you just want to go where they take you.
Heath‘s 2024 debut, Isaak’s Marble (review here) offered hints of progressivism to come, but Murmurations goes to another level, digging in across three tracks to recharacterize their sound from boogie traditionalism to something more expansive and their own. The two-minute mostly-vocals intro “Exordium in D Minor” leads into two 15-minutes-each cuts “Murmurations” and “Nosedive,” and while clearly jam-based, the two songs follow plotted, sometimes winding courses, still keeping a classic feel but lighting a fire under it by the time the title-track is through. Comprising what I assume is the entirety of side B, “Nosedive” unfolds patiently with Rhodes ambience and a gradual build of guitar, working its way to and through a build that hits into surprising heft before its done but makes its core impression in its burner midsection, because nothing tops a crescendo like another, slower, crashing crescendo. It’s like the chemistry here is slapping you in the face, and with the growth they show in this material, Heath‘s limits feel far off on the horizon.
There’s no obfuscation on The Crooked Skulls‘ debut full-length, Midnight Sun. The New Jersey crunch-riffers come right at you with it: thick tones, gravel-throated vocals, and an overarching groove somewhere between slower Orange Goblin and classic Corrosion of Conformity, leaving room for a bit of shove in “Skull Bong” and “Broken” while the mostly-instrumental “Slowsteal” cuts the pace and unfolds with an airier solo in its second half as part of a righteously nodding culmination. Elsewhere, the urgency of centerpiece “Let Me Out” reminds of The Obsessed riding the line between rock and doom, and the penultimate “Iron Smile” brings no less than Fu Manchu‘s Bob Balch in for an expectedly shredding guest guitar spot. Even there, The Crooked Skulls aren’t up to anything too fancy. They’re not looking to dizzy you with complexity so much as dizzy you with a fist upside the head, and that edge of East Coast confrontationalism becomes part of what makes their material feel so immediate in its execution right unto closer “Judgement Day,” which holds its burl through the finish. No tricks, but songs.
A healthy dose of Pentagram-style doom boogie pervades Broadslab‘s The Fifth Essence, and reasonably so as the Mike Dean-produced, Raleigh, North Carolina-based four-piece make their way to the nine-minute organ-laced capper “Constellations” through the classic swing of “Animal Divinity” and “Leslie” at the outset, setting an energetic and stage-ready tone for what follows, the interlude “Alienation” ahead of the all-in shred and burl of side A closer/centerpiece “Shameful Reality,” a more aggressive take than either of the first two cuts, but the beginning rather than the end of their branching out therefrom. The seven-minute “Keep on Rollin'” (not a Samavayo cover) and “Constellations” comprise most of side B, with the longer interlude “Quintessence” between, duly subdued to lead the way from the dual-vocal-style shove of the song before into the immediate kick the band deliver on their way to the extended jamming that carries them out. This might be their first record in 12 years? All the more of an occasion, then.
Bergen, Norway’s Purple Skies make their long-play debut with A Million Years, and thereby foster a sound that’s informed by retroism without actually sounding like it was recorded on vintage gear. That is, as “Haven” and “Too Worn to Tell” demonstrate, they aren’t beholden to a vintage aesthetic, despite influence by bands like Witchcraft (which you can hear in the vocals as well as the guitar progressions they follow) and whichever of their acolytes you’d prefer to namedrop. That doesn’t account for everything on the nine-song A Million Years — to wit, the harmonies on the title-track — but it’s a start and so is the record. They seem to find another layer of tonal depth for “Worthless Men,” and it’s perhaps telling that both of the closing duo of “Archaic Freeway” and “Red Road” are in some way about transportation, because movement is an important factor the whole way through. I wouldn’t say it’s all forward-thinking — having a song called “Bitchcraft” in 2026 is a downer — but they give themselves something to work from in these songs and one will be curious to hear how they refine over time what this material lays out so organically.
The verses are a little more opaque in their biting, harsh-throated sludgecore screams — Ken-E Bones of Negative Reaction comes to mind — but there’s no mistaking the point of view in the hook of “F.T.W.”: “Fuck the world/Fuck AI/Realize the billionaires want us all to die,” and so on. Kudos to Texas’ Red Beard Wall for having a not-shitty opinion. “F.T.W.,” which indeed is restored to its pre-Millennial acronymic purpose (this is not “For the Win,” it’s “Fuck the World”), is joined by the likewise structured “W.A.N.T.S.” (“We Are Not the Same”), and in neither case is Red Beard Wall mainman Aaron “He of the Red Beard” Wall fucking around. “W.A.N.T.S.” uses meme culture to convey no less disaffection than the song before it, and is accordingly castigating as it shifts into a chug worthy of Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol before its sub-four-minutes are up. The above-noted hook of “F.T.W.” is the frame for the short offering and maybe the most fitting summary of Wall‘s lyrical point of view, but shit, it’s not like he’s wrong, politically or in the riffs. It might not change the world, but it’s a well earned lashing out thereupon.
Trondheim’s White Tundra debuted in 2023 with their self-titled LP (review here) on Apollon Records before aligning with Argonauta imprint Octopus Rising for the six-song/37-minute follow-up full-length, Stories From the Dark. The second offering demonstrates more than a handful of positive lessons from the first, including the uptempo swing at the start of “Healer” and the symmetry across the album’s two sides, each of which works from its shortest to its longest inclusion. Fortunately, to coincide with this, their niche feels even more dug out as their own here, with deep fuzz and gravelly vocals as mainstay elements uniting the material, be it the spacious, eponymous closer “White Tundra” or the extra-dense-seeming nod of “The Lake” just before it. There’s more to discover in their songwriting — that is, I don’t think they’re done growing — but their ideas are surpassing their influences now in a way they weren’t three years ago, and for sure it’ll be a third record I’m going to watch for. Incremental, natural growth underway.
Titled simply EP, this three-song/15-minute pummeler draws together aspects of war/death metal and sets them in a context led by riffs, so that the battle-themed horrors of “Trench Division” and the roll of “Bog Bodies” and the lurch early in “Venomous Trait” balance extremity and accessibility in a way that feels like someone should probably send it to Fenriz. Has Fenriz heard this yet? It’s the band’s first release — the lineup includes Jason Brackin, Chad Remains (Ghorot, ex-Uzala), Jacob Depolitte and Marco Gonzalez, or so I’m told — and somewhat indistinguishable from a demo for that, but the fact is that while they might be outwardly basking in a kind of metallic primitivism, knuckle-dragging their and your way to oblivion with only gutturalisms for comfort, there’s no time wasted on EP in informing the listener who Past the Light are and what are their intentions in grim bludgeonry. Telling of things to come? I know better than to predict, but there’s intricacy amid the slaughter if you’re willing to hear it. The test is on you as the listener, whether and for how long you can hang in.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 5th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Last heard from with 2021’s Black Harvest (review here), Spanish classic-style heavy rockers Green Desert Water are back next month with their third LP, Eerie Meadows, from which they’re streaming “The Blacksmith” now. The release will be through Small Stone and Kozmik Artifactz, giving international reach and cred alike to the warm-toned roll of “The Blacksmith” and the album as a whole, which at no point wants for appeal. Watch out for the hook when it gets you, because it does.
This is a bio I wrote, I think. At least I edited what they had, which is a thing Small Stone asks me to do every now and again. Let’s say I worked on from ‘The record features…” to “…to be celebrated” and call it there either way. I gotta look, hang on… yeah, some of that is what I sent over. It’s jumbled around a bit. Maybe not a full-on bio I wrote, but I did work on it at least.
It and all the rest came through the PR wire:
GREEN DESERT WATER: Spain-Based Power Trio To Release Eerie Meadows On June 19th Via Small Stone Recordings; New Track Streaming + Preorders Available
Asturias, Spain-based power trio GREEN DESERT WATER is back with a new album, Eerie Meadows, set for release on June 19th via small Stone Recordings.
The record features eight immersive and engaging tracks, merging heavy psychedelia and melodies born across decades from the 1970s on, speaking seamlessly in a way that is their own while still providing as much grunge shove as it does boogie vibes.
Their third album with Small Stone, Eerie Meadows follows the fan-favorite Black Harvest (2021), which established the current lineup of Kike Sanchís (guitar, vocals), Juan Arias (bass), and Dani Bárcena (drums) as one of the most enjoyable live acts in the heavy rock scene.
“With Eerie Meadows, we wanted to explore the duality between the heavy and the ethereal the mist, the ancient woods, and that feeling of finding home in the wild,” says the band. “Recording in a new studio was a challenge we set for ourselves to push our sound further; it’s a record about the cycles of life, the scars we carry, and the fire that burns even under the northern lights.”
While GREEN DESERT WATER keeps one foot decisively embedded in the classics – Mountain, Sabbath, Sasquatch – they execute the tight 37-minute LP with earned confidence and purpose, finding variety in mood amid a universal quality of craft. From the opening journey of “Northern Lights” to the closer “Meteora,” the band explores themes of loss, primal power, and spiritual survival. For the converted or those willing to be, it is a thing to be celebrated.
Eerie Meadows was recorded and mixed by Sergio Tutu at Tutu Estudios, Corvera (Asturias, Spain), co-produced by Diego Martinez and Sergio Tutu, mastered by Chris Goosman at Baseline Audio Labs in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and features cover art and design by Ossobuko Studio, additional layout by Alexander von Weiding, and backing vocals by Alvaro Barcena.
GREEN DESERT WATER’s Eerie Meadows will be released on CD, and digital formats as well as limited edition LP in conjunction with Germany’s Kozmik Artifactz. Find all preorders at the Small Stone Bandcamp page HERE:https://smallstone.bandcamp.com/album/eerie-meadows
Posted in Reviews on March 23rd, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Hope you had a banner weekend. Last week was pretty slammed. As ever, I’m like three days’ worth of news behind, and this is still just the penultimate day of the Spring 2026 Quarterly Review, so there may yet be more creative ways for me to find to shoot myself in the ass and make myself feel overwhelmed because… well anyway, stick around, folks!
In all seriousness, considering The Patient Mrs. was away last week — who schedules these things? — and my daughter spent two and a half of five possible days at school, I came through it pretty well. I’m just tired and I missed my wife while she was gone. Ain’t no sunshine, and so on.
We wrap up tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
Quarterly Review #51-60:
Godzilla Was Too Drunk to Destroy Tokyo, Sideral Voivod
Fuzz rockers Godzilla Was Too Drunk to Destroy Tokyo — or Godzilla WTDTDT, if you want to go by how they abbreviate their Instagram — give automatic impressions of quirk, and their most realized work to-date, their second full-length, Sideral Voivod, thankfully has more going for it than the in-genre radness of the band’s moniker. Based on the coast of Northern Italy, the trio of bassist/vocalist Sara de Luca, guitarist Alessandro “Camu” Camurati and drummer Nicola Viola find a place between art-punk and weighted fuzz, each piece contained in itself and its intention, but feeding into a tense flow with periodic blowouts like “Telekinetic Thunder Yeti” or “Space Leech,” somewhere between Black Flag and Black Sabbath, while “Worship the Middle” makes the latter allegiance plainer. It might sound like it’s coming at you flailing, but the really dangerous thing is I think Godzilla Was Too Drunk to Destroy Tokyo might know what they’re doing. Imagine that.
Ritual Arcana‘s Heavy Psych Sounds-issued debut offers cultish bikerisms and doomed roll, never quite veering into caricature as classic-styled modern cult-heavy does, but kept aligned to a central tonal weight as heard in the atmospheric “Berkana” or in the nodding “Occluded.” The band is comprised of SharLee LuckyFree on bass/vocals, Scott “Wino” Weinrich (The Obsessed, et al) on guitar, and Oakley Munson (The Black Lips) on drums, and some of the roll throughout is recognizably Weinrich‘s style, but in a song like the declarative “Free Like a Pirate” or “Road Burnt,” there are elements that speak to the songwriting collaboration taking shape in their darkly-presented but still accessible style, and with that in mind, those finding their way to Ritual Arcana through their guitarist’s sundry projects will find Ritual Arcana harnessing something distinct from all of them. I’ll be curious to hear how the balance between push and dwell Ritual Arcana lay out here comes to fruition over the longer term, and by that I mean it’s an exploration worth following.
New Brass Hearse? Well hello. The Boston-based outfit fronted and I think steered by the classic-psych-meets-weirdo-doom-melancholia whims of frontman Ron Rochondo present their first single in six years with the four-minute “Salem Rain,” which sets its drunken-singalong of a hook “Let’s go to Salem in the rain” at the foundation of its intent. Musically, the song is wistful in the guitar and starts as backing ambience as the lyrics immediately begin a conversation leading to the suggestion in the chorus — at one point there’s even mention of the Willows, wihch is a park in town — which is forward in the mix and presented in layers as an escape from monotony. In the final minute, they depart the verse/chorus format and over complementary guitar, finish out with a Beach Boys-y vocal arrangement, toying with that notion of sentimental sounds but coming across as sincere in the delivery. As in maybe the song really does want to get out of here for a while and go hang out in the park and smoke cigarettes and whatnot. Fair.
If you might read ‘three songs/79 minutes’ and that’s a lot, well, the three songs are actually part of the same overarching movement — it’s all one song — so yes, the good doctors Paradiso and Space (also Øresund Space Collective) aren’t kidding when they allude to operating at a planetary scale. “Swampworld” is the name of all three tracks (broken down as Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), and the longform drone marked by croaking sounds and vague mists of synthesizer indeed evokes things alien, humid and teeming with unseen animal life. Surely the power of suggestion plays a role there, but I don’t think that’s invalidating. If you looked at a museum painting of a swamp world and it was called ‘Swampworld’ and it brought to mind a swampy kind of world, would you say it was using the power of suggestion? That’s art. Liquid Planetscapes‘ immersion requires a willing participant, but if you’re able to get yourself in a state of mind open to its happening-on-a-different-scale-of-time procession, the sense of journey is duly otherworldly, and warm besides.
Boston despondent sludge metallers Mollusk made their debut a decade ago with Children of the Chron (review here), and they’ve reportedly had Cursebreaker in the works since not long after, but if the seven songs (six and a demo) have been seasoned for the years between, don’t worry, you’d never know it from the sheer pummel they elicit. “Trapped in a Cave” opens with telltale density and plod, and though the subsequent “Azathoth” and “Two Things” might up the tempo or delve into willful repetition, the downer cast remains right into and through “Human Suffering” and the closing linear build of “Apostle,” which is immediately backed by its own demo, which is even rawer and dirtier feeling than the proper album track just before. However long it’s been in the making, rest assured it sounds like they just dug it up. Fresh, in that way.
Maybe the proggiest thing about Berlin instrumental three-piece Zahn is the sense of adventure they bring to their songcraft, the feeling of intention behind what they do, even when it’s an idea that probably came about spontaneously. Their heavy, electronics-infused sound is always textured and atmospheric, and Purpur‘s eight songs fit that mold more than they fit any other, as Felix Gebhard, Chris Breuer and Nic Stockmann range through the futurism of “Diaabend,” or go big-riff in the later build-into-crush of “Katamaran” or “Atoll,” start dancey and post-punk with “Stroboskop” or finish hypnotic with a build around the central strum of “Butter.” If there’s middle-ground to be had, it might be in “Alhambra,” but middle-ground isn’t necessarily what I’m looking for when they’ve got the rad electro-density mashup of “Gensher” instead. Zahn don’t always want to be very, very heavy, but they keep their ability to get there in use as one of the many tools of their craft.
Prophets of Thwaites, Vulnerant Omnes Ultima Necat
Preceded only by demos and rehearsal recordings, Vulnerant Omnes Ultima Necat is the first EP from the Netherlands’ Prophets of Thwaites — comprised of guitarist/vocalist Esma Larabi, bassist Ferry Vermeeren and drummer Nico Beemster — who with it offer two dug-in slabs of atmospheric doom/post-metal in “Deadlock” (7:32) and “Vulnerant Omnes Ultima Necat” (6:38); probably too long to press to a 7″, and well enough to give an impression of the spaciousness of their sound, whether that’s in the vocals and corresponding plod of the former or the squibbly solo as the title-cut works into its final minute. The vocals come through too clearly to really feel shoegazey in my mind (like, I would expect more effects on Larabi‘s voice in a ‘gazier context), but I don’t think that hurts them so much as it sets the band up for a more individualized exploration as they continue to grow. They make it easy to look forward to where they might be headed.
Tokyo bass-and-drum duo Shizumunamari offer the two-song Nov. 2025 sophomore full-length Nagasugita Genjitsu as a herald of what the band calls the ‘New Wave of Japanese Doom Metal’ (sadly not called the ‘New Wave of Japanese Weirdo Doom’), and shit, here’s hoping. With Namari Toyama on vocals, bass and keys and Ebianime on drums, “Nagayama” (14:34) celebrates raw tones and drawling vocals, reminding of some of Queen Elephantine‘s open-air Cisnerosism, but less directly meditative in style and sneaking in a dub break later on before they bring back the nod to close and let “Nagai Kyoku” (22:17) begin its longform procession with a grungier intro and a persistent roll punctuated with crash cymbal and building on the original vocal reachout. They use minimalism more in “Nagai Kyoku,” and the late-arriving organ sounds don’t detract from that, but “Nagai Kyoku” sounds like it could easily kepe going when it ends. Shizumunamari took six years before following up their first record. Hopefully their third comes on a shorter turnaround and we can really get this ‘wave’ going. I’m ready for it.
Desert Collider, Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity
Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity is the ambitious, sci-fi-conceptual (at least semi-conceptual) debut full-length from Italian desert-style heavy rockers Desert Collider, delivered through Small Stone and Kozmik Artifactz. I don’t know if they’re setting up a continuity, if all their releases forever will be telling metaphorical tales under the banner of ‘Generation Ship,’ or when the thematic emerged from the material. But it rocks. For a highlight, one might suggest either “Sonic Carver,” where they hit hard and space out in the back half, or the 13-minute “Far Centaurus: Drifting without Guidance through Interstellar Space,” which takes stoner ambience and uses it as the basis for a dynamic, melodic and Mellotron-inclusive build. They’re able to play back and forth between immediacy and atmospherics (though “Nomads of the Red Sun” starts and stays acoustic), and while they’re on familiar ground stylistically, the push for an individual point of view is there, musically as well as in the presentation. Guess we’ll see where their journeys take them.
Get up. Such is the clear message of Üga Büga at the outset of Valley of the World as the Virginian trio of Calloway Jones (guitar, keys, vocals), Niko Cvetanovich (bass, backing vocals, more keys), and Jimmy Czywczynski (drums, backing vocals, consonants) approach sludge from a distinctively metallic place. Double-kick drumming, sharp-cornered structures, and vocals that veer before declarative melody and screams all feed into an overarching sense of aggression, even if the grooves themselves aren’t bludgeoning. Is it party metal? I wouldn’t tell you no, but don’t take that as “it’s stupid,” because the complexity even in the breakdown of “Nail That Binds” speaks to the consideration given to these parts and songs. That said, “The Sand Witch” (the sandwich?) thumps in a way that feels like it wants you to clap along at the show, and the chug and lurch of “Earthsuckers” early on stays on the beat, so put that with the thrashing in “Divination” and the big rolling finish in eight-minute closer “Revolting Power” and you get some picture of where they’re at on the idea of your good time.
Posted in Reviews on March 16th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Day 1 of the Spring 2026 Quarterly Review starts now. I know you’ve had it on your calendar just like I’ve had it on mine, and I’ll just say that if you’re new to the process or don’t know what this thing is all about, that’s cool too. A Quarterly Review, or QR if I’m feeling saucy, is a review roundup I do every few months for however long, always with 10 releases covered per day. The bare minimum for a QR is 50, and sometimes that actually happens. More often these days, it’s more than a five-day run, and that’s true this time as well.
This Quarterly Review will go seven days and cover a total of 70 works from bands and artists all over the world. It’s always a little nervewracking to start one of these, but it’s a special kind of deluge of music for me and I’ve been looking forward to it. Accordingly, it’s time to get this show on the road, as my dear wife might say.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
The Cosmic Dead, Beyond the Beyond
Four one-word titles on what I read somewhere is The Cosmic Dead‘s 10th album since 2010? That’s not even ridiculous. In any case, Beyond the Beyond strikes as advertised — the Glasgow-based heavy cosmic rockers are indeed far, far out. The 16-minute longest-track “Further” opens (immediate points), and even though the last song is called “Aether” (it bookends at 12 minutes), they’re pretty ethereal across the board as Luigi Pasquini‘s synth and Calum Calderwood‘s effects-laden fiddle lead the way into an obscure, semi-Eastern-scaled modern psychedelic krautrock, Omar Aborida‘s guitar (he also plays bass, mixed, and did the cover art) running deep in wah in shorter second cut “Stronger” as Tommy Duffin‘s drums both ground the procession and help push — wait for it — further. The immersion factor is high, and when “Aurora” gives over to “Aether,” there is a sense of having now arrived at the place you’ve been going all along, the long drone intro seeing a jangly movement rise up and recede again before it’s done, righteously imperfect and expanded of mind. If you could do this kind of thing all the time maybe you’d have 10 albums too.
If you might hear opening cut “Pagan Woman” and think The Cult, SÖNUS drive the point home by covering “Phoenix” penultimate to the closing title-track of Planes of Torment, so yes. Elsewhere on the David Wachsman-led heavy rock/classic metal trio’s third LP, “Heart of Stone” touches on Danzig and the flute-inclusive “Scorpio” touches on Middle Eastern-influenced progressivism and “Sisyphus Stomp” enacts a bluesier course. The seven-song release is tied together by Wachsman‘s vocals and the apparently-at-least-mostly-live-recorded energy of the performances around them, and though the prevailing atmosphere even in the classic rocking “Saturation Driver” is moody, by the time they come around to the grandiosity of “Planes of Torment”‘s 10-minute sequence, the stage has been duly set for such a dramatic finish. They are no strangers to the perils of living between styles, but the songwriting remains firm and SÖNUS are sure in their purposes across Planes of Torment, which pushes them forward in sound and construction and continues to refine the persona, craft and intent behind the project.
A hard-hitting Dec. 2025 self-released and self-titled full-length debut from this Richmond, Virginia, trio, Uzio‘s Uzio hits with force from the outset as they open up the groove in “And When it Doesn’t Break Your Fall” before giving burlier ’90s vibes in “Lantern Fly” — somewhere between C.O.C. and Ugly-era Life of Agony (see also “Wandering Eye”), with Chris Sundstrom‘s guitar and vocals leading the way with Ed Fierro on bass and Erik Larson (Thunderchief, ATP, Avail, etc.) drumming. They find a noteworthy fervency of chug in “Katabasis” and loose a “Hole in the Sky” of swing in “No One Sacred” before “Leeches” thrashes out and “Dissolve” throws big-riff elbows and “Dark Empath” caps with a more metallic crux, distant from the punk of “Familiars” earlier but subtly so with a continuity of structure throughout. One to watch if you feel like getting roughed up, as everybody does from time to time.
There is a strong meditative current built up around the apparent root jams of Finland’s Mount Palatine. The Helsinki outfit’s six-song/53-minute debut on Argonauta imprint Octopus Rising, Wormholy World is rife with texture and expanse as 10-minute opener “The Sands” casts a vast landscape of intertwining guitar lines and a slow march through the desert hinted at by its title. “Whispers of the Holy Land” grows more aggressive in its midsection, preceding a solidification of groove in the back end of the song that’s both satisfying and consistent in ambience with the opener. That crunch proves essential to “The Dreaming” and “Panther Eyes” as well, and the balance and blend of urgency and warmth keeps Wormholy World united but not staid in approach as their pilgrimage takes them through the outreach of lead guitar in “Ethereal” and into “Newborn Sun,” which closes out as less an arrival than a next departure point. So one hopes, anyhow. They’re not the first to work in this style, but there’s burgeoning perspective to be found here.
Smooth boogie alert as Perth, Australia’s Death of Manfish — who accrue weirdo points before you even get to the shufflefunk of “Sync” just based on the name — unfurl the five-track/16-minute Desert Cuttlefish with “Brunt,” a rollout that would make Brant Bjork smile and a hint of intent at things to come. “Sync” makes a rousing centerpiece to the short instrumental outing, which is furthers its outsiderism with “Manfish Folk 4” and “Manfish Folk 2,” the first of which is wistful with accordion sounds and the latter of which has acoustic guitar at its core but is more urbane, preceding the space-jammier finish in “Fritz.” So what you get is five instrumentalist pieces, each kind of operating in a different style, drawn together by rhythmic fluidity but more celebrating their differences than trying to convince you it’s all part of the same thing, which it is anyhow. Good fun, purposefully and effectively oddball, and backed up by chops and groove to spare. There’s more going on here than the 16 minutes imply, but the brevity of the format suits the showcase aspect of Death of Manfish‘s sound.
Ralph Penegun ask and waste precious little time answering the operative question on their apparent debut, Who the Fuck is Ralph Penegun?, released in early January. The answer is they’re a band, not a person, and with the record, they offer a driving and aggressive heavy-hardcore punk sound. “Choose Your Poison” feels positively expansive at 3:54, and that’s as close as the Turin, Italy, unit come to expanse, as most of the album is given to the shove of cuts like “Epitaph” or “Working Class Idiot,” the latter of which follows the title-track intro and feels complemented by the head-down, fist-throwing “New Level Slave,” which closes, though those are hardly the only two on a sociopolitical bent. The earlier “Sickness” brings up tonal largesse and pays off its push with a nodder of a groove, and “Caught in a Trap” ends with a sample of Elvis Presley‘s “Suspicious Minds,” so there’s some deviation from the genre norm happening, but know that if you’re going to take it on, you should be ready to keep up. That’s who Ralph Penegun are.
Longtime stoner rockers will recall Winds of Neptune bassist/vocalist Ross Westerbur from 500 Ft. of Pipe. He, guitarist Kevin Roberts (The Meatmen) and drummer Mike Alonso (Flogging Molly) foster an expansive take on classic heavy rock with Winds of Neptune‘s Small Stone-issued self-titled debut, bringing what began as a pandemic project to a place of embodying post-grunge heavy rock with an even deeper classic sense of reach. There’s some psychedelia to be had in the first half of “The Fitz,” where “Temporal Mutant” is more boogie, and the eight-song/hour-long album welcomes listners with a bright sensibility on “The Faun’s Rhyme,” but make no mistake, once they dig in, they stay dug. “La Cacciata” shimmies like Scorpions while “U.S.L.” gives breadth to grounded roll, but the real deal is the closing trilogy of “So Sayeth the Mouth of the Void” (9:09) “The Fitz” (9:02) and “Queen of Sumatra” (10:21), which are basically a record unto themselves. Bluesier Roadsaw-style heavy with just an edge of spaceblast? Ready for it.
Let’s pretend you were raised to believe in god. Doesn’t matter which one or denomination; any world-creating, all-powerful/wise/comforting/afterlife-bringing deity will do. Nero Kane‘s third (maybe fourth?) album, For the Love, the Death and the Poetry, hits like the moment you realized that god you were brought up to trust and put faith in isn’t real, and that out there in the void, there is neither guiding hand nor salvation. That is to say, it might make you feel empty and crushed, but it has the unmistakable ring of truth about it. The Italian songwriter makes use of empty space in the mix and darker neofolk mystique, working with producer Matt Bordin and collaborator Samantha Stella to craft a sound that is organic, mostly sad, indebted to Americana without being Americana, and encompassing in mood. The organ drones of “Land of Noting” are full and the strum and intertwining voices of “The World Heedless of Our Pain” feed into the melancholic ambience, and the closer “Until the Light of Heaven Comes” has the smack of ritual as it closes. That light is never coming.
Can’t help but feel like Augsburg, Germany’s Giant Lungs are selling themselves short by calling their debut full-length Praise the Laze, particularly since there’s very little lazy about it in either craft or presentation. Taking influence from the likes of Lowrider, Truckfighters, and the shoegazier end of modern heavy melodymaking, in neither tempo nor tone are they lax, and, what, you’re gonna tell me that “Crab Riders” doesn’t move? The artwork is somewhat severe for the sound, which is fuzzier in its riffing than one might be led to believe and marked by the breathy vocal delivery, but the vibe is right on, and as they make their way toward the big-rolling 11-minute capper “Tourists,” they hone a depth and appeal that the finale effectively and purposefully encapsulates. I’m trying to figure out where “laze” comes in, unless they all quit their dayjobs to hang out and follow fuzzriffs, in which case, double kudos.
A creative and cohesive follow-up to the Tübingen-based five-piece’s debut, Sleaze, the 10-song/34-minute Bad Milk never stays in one place too long, but finds its path in thickened desert-style heavy songwriting, a strong current of Queens of the Stone Age present in the style of riffing early, though again, Yeast Machine find distinction in tone, as well as in their vocals. The acoustic-led (at least most of it) “Dust on the Radio” precedes the atmospheric heft of “Feeding Poison to the Spiders Was Never Really My Thing,” and the emotive wisp in the penultimate “Wobbly Wizard” puts me in mind of forgotten Eurodesert rockers Elvis Deluxe, and that’s a comparison I very much intend as a compliment to the song. They finish with largesse in “The Golden Cage,” but there too are mindful of the mood they’re fostering as they go. Bad Milk is my introduction to the band, and it is an intriguing one.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 9th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
The forthcoming debut full-length from Cesena, Italy’s Desert Collider, titled with the narrative-implying Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity, will be released March 6 through Small Stone Records (US) and Kozmik Artifactz (EU). For the band, it follows their 2024 EP, Sonic Carver, from which several of the tracks appear here. I’m not sure if they were re-recorded or just repurposed, but it ultimately matters little as the band have built out around them to create the LP. Note mastering by Karl Daniel Lidén, whose involvement in anything on just about any level is bound to make it kick even more ass, and note that if you dig the single “Floating Space Hand” (like in Super Smash Bros.?), you can investigate further at the band’s Bandcamp, while album preorders are up available from either label.
What follows came from the PR wire. Goes like this:
DESERT COLLIDER: Italian Psychedelic Desert Rock Alchemists To Release Debut Full-Length On March 6th Via Small Stone Recordings; New Track Streaming + Preorders Available
DESERT COLLIDER will unveil their debut full-length Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity on March 6th via Small Stone Recordings.
Drawing inspiration from the hypnotic grooves of the ’90s desert rock scene, the Italian four-piece blends elements of stoner, metal, space rock, and progressive rock with subtle psychedelic undertones to forge an expansive and immersive sound. Echoes of Kyuss, Lowrider, Monster Magnet, and Yawning Man give rise to a compact and determined sound that evolves into a loud stoner style that is at once both raw and sophisticated, balancing monolithic riffs with deep, atmospheric textures and a sense of cosmic storytelling.
After a year of relentless experimentation, DESERT COLLIDER entered Stone Bridge Studios to lay down their debut full-length, Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity. Produced and mixed by Andrea Cola and mastered by Karl Daniel Lidén (Lowrider, Dozer), the album features eight tracks that revolve around themes of self-loss and rediscovery, a yearning for the primordial, and the inner journey as the sole mission and pathway to redemption. Shifting between heaviness and atmospheric passages, the album adds to the modern psych-stoner rock arrangements with intricate soundscapes through the use of synths and acoustic interludes. Additionally, the album draws conceptual inspiration from the themes and ideas explored by [science fiction novelist] Robert A. Heinlein in “Orphans Of The Sky.”
Comments the band on first single, “Floating Space Hand,” “In ‘Floating Space Hand,’ the music pushes forward with a mid-to-fast pulse, a swirling, fuzzy propulsion hurtling through cosmic dust and starlit voids. A token is given to the cosmic void. It becomes a quiet emblem of what ambition takes from the inner self, adrift in the void, uncertain if it will ever return. Even if reaching for the stars, fragments linger in the void, a haunting reminder that to soar is to sacrifice, and to dream is to wonder if what is scattered can ever find its way home.”
DESERT COLLIDER’s Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity features additional strings and string arrangements on “ThumpeRRR” and “Far Centaurus: Drifting Without Guidance Through Interstellar Space” by Andrea Cola, artwork and design by Francesca Santini, and layout by Alexander von Wieding. The record will be released on CD and digital formats as well as limited 180g vinyl (200 units on Amber Sandstorm).
Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity CD/Digital Track Listing: 1. Orphans Of The Sky Part I: Generation Ship 2. Floating Space Hand 3. Sonic Carver 4. Orphans Of The Sky Part II: Disembark 5. Thumperrr 6. Nomads Of The Red Sun 7. Far Centaurus Drifting Without Guidance Through Interstellar Space 8. Nebuchadnezzar
Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity Vinyl Track Listing: Side 1: 1. Orphans Of The Sky Part I: Generation Ship 2. Floating Space Hand 3. Sonic Carver 4. Nomads Of The Red Sun Side 2: 5. Orphans Of The Sky Part II: Disembark 6. ThumpeRRR 7. Nebuchadnezzar
