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.

The Cosmic Dead website

Heavy Psych Sounds website

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SÖNUS, Planes of Torment

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.

SÖNUS website

SÖNUS on Bandcamp

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Uzio, Uzio

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.

Uzio on Bandcamp

Uzio on Instagram

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Mount Palatine, Wormholy World

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.

Mount Palatine website

Argonauta Records website

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Death of Manfish, Desert Cuttlefish

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.

Death of Manfish on Bandcamp

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Ralph Penegun, Who the Fuck is Ralph Penegun?

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.

Ralph Penegun on Bandcamp

Ralph Penegun on Instagram

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Winds of Neptune, Winds of Neptune

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.

Winds of Neptune on Instagram

Small Stone Records website

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Nero Kane, For the Love, the Death and the Poetry

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.

Nero Kane website

Nero Kane on Bandcamp

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Giant Lungs, Praise the Laze

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.

Giant Lungs on Bandcamp

Giant Lungs on Instagram

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Yeast Machine, Bad Milk

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.

Yeast Machine website

Noisolution website

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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.”

Stream DESERT COLLIDER’s “Floating Space Hand” at THIS LOCATION: https://smallstone.bandcamp.com/album/generation-ship-endless-drift-through-infinity

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).

Find preorders at the Small Stone Bandcamp page HERE: https://smallstone.bandcamp.com/album/generation-ship-endless-drift-through-infinity

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

DESERT COLLIDER:
Federico Costanzo – guitars, vocals, percussion, synthesizers
Federico Gianfanti – vocals, synthesizers
Manuel Colucci – bass
Andrea Casagranda – drums, percussion

https://desertcollider.bandcamp.com/
https://www.instagram.com/desertcollider

http://www.smallstone.com
https://smallstone.bandcamp.com/
http://www.instagram.com/smallstonerecords
http://www.facebook.com/smallstonerecords

http://kozmik-artifactz.com/
https://kozmik-artifactz.bandcamp.com/
https://www.instagram.com/kozmikartifactz/
https://www.facebook.com/kozmikartifactz

Desert Collider, Generation Ship: Endless Drift Through Infinity (2026)

 

In the annals of scorcher jams, there are few who burn like Tia Carrera burn. The Austin, Texas, trio are 20 years removed from their debut album, The November Session, and five from their latest, 2020’s Tried and True (review here), and I suppose their 2011 fourth LP, Cosmic Priestess (review here), is as choice a place to start as any with the band, but it’s not like 2019’s Visitors/Early Purple (review here) or 2009’s Small Stone label debut, The Quintessential (review here), don’t hold up. Rest assured, Tia Carrera have been kicking ass all the while. In addition to the righteous Alexander Von Wieding cover art and the Fender Rhodes added to “Sand, Stone and Pearl” with a guest spot by Ezra Reynolds, I guess Cosmic Priestess serves as an example of the band at their best, because that seems to be what you get every time they show up.

There are four pieces on Cosmic Priestess: “Slave Cylinder” (7:34), “Sand, Stone and Pearl” (15:11), “Saturn Missile Battery” (33:41) and “A Wolf in Wolf’s Clothing” (8:00). The three-piece of guitarist Jason Morales (also bass), bassist Jamey Simms (also guitar) and drummer Erik Conn reportedly showed up, Morales hit record on a tape machine, and they fired away at making the album in completely improvised fashion. That is, they hit it and the fuzzy glories Morales nails over the Conn‘s backbeat just happened to be what came out of the moment. Even for a band who base what they do around notions of improv jamming — that is, even on the scale of heavy jams more broadly — the results are strikingly rad.

By the time they’re two minutes into “Slave Cylinder,” the listener should be able to see where this is going. The crux is immersion wrought not through effects-laced meandering (nothing against that), but barnburner soloing, malleable-on-the-spot tempos and purposeful twists when the time comes. With more of a languid pace and the aforementioned Rhodes inclusion — which makes a big difference arrangement-wise when the rest of what pervades is kept to live-recorded guitar, bass and drums — “Sand, Stone and Pearl” is a defining feature for Cosmic Priestess, perhaps even more than the half-hour-long “Saturn Missile Battery,” coming off the lay-waste shred of “Slave Cylinder” with a movement distinct in purpose as the guitar and guesting keys work off each other in complementary fashion. Tia Carrera, by virtue of the nature of their basic approach, are far more about exploration than hookmaking generally. In “Sand, Stone and Pearl,” they find a way to play to both sides.

The intention behind “Saturn Missile Battery” — can you call it intention for something improvised? Yeah, I think you can. I mean, the material has been mixed. It’s presumably been carved out of a larger batch of jams that took place at Morales‘ home studio that day or days, or however long it was ultimately, and that means that even for something as massive and sprawling as “Saturn Missile Battery”‘s 33 minutes, there’s an element of conscious presentation at work. It’s not like, oops, Tia Carrera just busted out this killer succession of movements carrying the listener from one end of the thing to the next with both trance and physicality happening in the music all the while, a rough spot or two left in both for authenticity because, really, screw it, and parts explored to a full life cycle in real-time as Conn, Simms and Morales chart the path at the same time they’re walking it.

None of this would be possible without chemistry between the band members. The way “Saturn Missile Battery” unfolds and develops over its time, with subtle changes as they go until, about 20 minutes in, when the guitars drop out as Conn holds the drums to the tension they’re creating and the whole band bring the song to and through a blowout crescendo followed by a lower-key comedown, bluesy in its strut for a while there, but still moving back toward scorch as they fade it out. I don’t know if any part of it was thought of beforehand or not, but it is the peak of immersion on Cosmic Priestess, and rightly placed for being as far out as Tia Carrera go, with the lead-in of the first two tracks letting you arrive at the precipice you’re soon to leap from.

Something like that shows that even 14 years ago, Tia Carrera were cognizant of building an album rather than just throwing together improvised sections of jams and seeing what sticks, though invariably finding ‘what sticks’ is part of that process as well, in the recording, in the mixing and in the finished product of a record itself. They come back around to cap with “A Wolf in Wolf’s Clothing” a bluesier, looser progression than “Saturn Missile Battery” but fluid and self-contained from start to end, sort of mirroring the way “Slave Cylinder” felt like they were working their way deeper toward “Sand, Stone and Pearl” and “Saturn Missile Battery,” except this time it’s “A Wolf in Wolf’s Clothing” leading the listener gradually back toward the reality waiting on the other side of its last crashout.

Tia Carrera went to Europe in 2022 and have featured at two of the last three Ripplefest Texases, and of course being based in Austin are veterans of SXSW, etc. They also did Monolith on the Mesa in 2019 and I don’t even know how many others along the way because they’ve been around for at least 22 years and have always been focused on playing live, even if they’re not out for eight months at a clip doing it. I suppose they’re something of a well-kept secret in instrumental heavy, but their commitment to improv — as opposed to a band like Earthless, who wind up with a not dissimilar style and continually emphasize the songs are written before they’re recorded — remains a distinguishing factor and makes their studio efforts all the more precious. Since at least 2019, they’ve at Curt Christenson (Dixie Witch) on bass, and I guess the bottom line is that anytime they want to go ahead and super-casual hit record and belt out another hour or so of on-an-adventure bangers, I’m here for it. Yes, that ‘deep critical insight’ — duh, band good; I like it — is how I’m ending this. It also was improvised.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

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Next week is part planned out, but I’ve got a long way to go before I get there. Tonight’s Halloween, so we’ve gotta go trick-or-treating with the group of parents from Girl Scouts. I think they’re bringing drinks? Like they’re gonna be doing shots while their kids run in the road. I’ll be the responsible one, stoned instead.

But that’ll suck. And tomorrow we’re going north to Connecticut for my niece’s birthday. That won’t be awful, but is never not a lot when we sleep over up there. Plus where we stay isn’t winterized, so it’s gonna get cold at night. I expect Pecan complaints to abound, basically until it’s time to go and then she doesn’t want to leave.

Records I’m buying for my niece, turning 17: Pretty Hate Machine, the self-titled Alice in Chains, I was thinking maybe some Sabbath or Graveyard’s Hisingen Blues, but I’d also like to get her a Chelsea Wolfe record or Emma Ruth Rundle, so it depends on what’s at the shop as well when I go, which I’ll do this afternoon between going to the school to give The Pecan lunch and going back to the school like an hour and a half later for the Halloween parade, which also will suck. Pretty much anything where I have to stand around and/or talk to other, way more normal, parents, is what when it applies to the kid we call ‘less preferred.’ For me it feels a lot like torture.

But it will end. And Sunday we’ll come home and have a quiet day before… wait for it… three days off from school next week. So this week was three half-days, and next week is three no-days. I am keeping my writing schedule flexible accordingly. I will do what I can when I can.

Zelda update: I have one dungeon left in Twilight Princess. I found a mod that lets me duplicate items oldschool-cheat-code style in Tears of the Kingdom and have been having fun breaking rules in that the last couple days, as well as upgrading armor, which is why I got it, so that when I put the Depths of the Kingdom mod on in the next whenever, there’s enough defense hopefully to withstand the barrage of enemies thrown at you. I’ve enjoyed Twilight Princess as well, and I’m not in a rush to be done with it, but I think between the two I prefer Wind Waker. They’re both chock full of Zelda stuff, and they have a lot of similar mechanics, but the brighter look is so much more where my head is at now. I don’t need realism. I need cartoons, I guess. That said, I was thinking I might do Ocarina of Time on the Switch 2 next, though now I also have my original N64 and that cartridge with my original game still on it, so maybe I’ll just play with that a bit instead. I’ll see when I get there. Livestream schedule coming soon.

Have a great and safe weekend. I’m gonna go shower and get ready for the rest of today. If you do the Halloween thing, be safe. If you don’t, I’m right there with you.

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

I’ve been waiting for this one, honestly. I think I did a Quarterly Review in April, or maybe it was late March, so it hasn’t been that long, but you know how it is with releases now. Every week there’s a ton coming out, everybody’s gotta pump through content to feed the algorithm. If you like sitting with records, if you like getting to know records, it’s still a pretty good era, but you have to understand you’re not going to hear everything. The Quarterly Review is more than a catchall in my mind, but it’s definitely also a place for stuff I can’t fit anywhere else. At this point there are bands who’ve been in QRs their entire lifecycle. I don’t think anybody knows that or cares other than me, but it’s true just the same.

I like doing these, though, and I like the marathon listening sessions that are part of it. Oh yeah asshole, you like writing about music? Well here’s 10 records a day for a week. Hope you slated a single in there somewhere. You’re gonna need it.

Quarterly Review #1-10:

Miss Lava, Under a Black Sun

This fifth full-length from Portuguese psychedelic-inflected heavy rockers Miss Lava sets its own backdrop with breadth of tone. The album is called Under a Black Sun and it is their fourth outing for Small Stone Records, but even the edgiest moments throughout are more colorful than that might indicate. Miss Lava excel — whether it’s the closing title-track or “Neon Gods” earlier or the 1:15 blowout “Chaos Strain” — at creating instrumental tension underneath the forward melodic float of the vocals. From seven-minute opener and longest cut (immediate points) “Dark Tomb Nebula,” the 52-minute/11-song outing takes its time saying what it wants to say, and it might take a couple listens for it to sink in accordingly, but the fuzz in “The Bends” and the tempo-pickup swing in “Blue Sky on Mars” can be landmarks on the path, and the album is worth meeting with the attention it’s due.

Miss Lava website

Small Stone Records website

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The Cimmerian, An Age Undreamed Of…

To coincide with the righteous pummel of the eight-and-a-half-minute “Silver and Gold,” Los Angeles trio The Cimmerian infuse their first full-length with a thrashing sensibility in pieces like “Neckbreaker of the Mountain” and “Black Coast Tigris,” which are all the more brutal for the guttural vocals of bassist Nicolas Rocha. Guitarist David Gein crushes and slashes enough for “Mournblade” to earn its title, and the extremity is retained even in the slowdown of “Deathstalker” later on, as Gein, Rocha and drummer David Morales seem to hold another level of viciousness in reserve for 10-minute finale “Monarch.” There’s some extrapolation from High on Fire here in the basic math of the band’s makeup, but The Cimmerian push more into thrash as a genre, and come across as more metal in their assault. There’s growing to do, and streamlining the songs may become part of that process, but as an awaited debut album, An Age Undreamed Of… heralds its own devastation and that to follow.

The Cimmerian on Bandcamp

Black Voodoo Records website

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Nightstalker, Return From the Point of No Return

Athenian heavy rock institution Nightstalker return with their eighth full-length in a 35-plus-year career as led by frontman Argyris “Argy” Galiatsatos, who remains a pivotal presence in the songs. There are eight of those across the down-to-business 38-minute long-player, which opens raucous with “Dust” but settles into a psychedelic meander on “Heavy Trippin'” before “Uncut” finds a catchy space somewhere in the middle, high-energy but not a shove, and welcoming all comers. The title-track follows and takes a noisier tack instrumentally and vocally in its second half, but is a four-minute kick-in-the-pants nonetheless, so one would not accuse it of being an awkward fit here, even as the subsequent “Shipwrecked Powder Monkey” (which I’m assuming starts side B) moves through quiet/loud trades toward a fuzzy surge, “Shallow Grave” basks in melancholy, “Falling Inside” follows the bassline into a shredder of a guitar solo and seven-minute closer “Flying Mode” dares a bit of funk to round out. There’s a reason Nightstalker have stood the test of time. It’s the songs. Yes, still.

Nightstalker website

Heavy Psych Sounds website

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Whitehovse, The Mighty One

Indonesian doom rollers Whitehovse released the title-track of their first, self-released full-length, The Mighty One, as a standalone single in 2020, and I don’t know that all the songs have been around that long, but every chug in “Falling Crown” sounds like it’s there for a reason and I’m not inclined to argue. Bookended by the nod of “Endless Sorrow” and the blowout, harsh-in-the-cymbals bounce of “Vile Triumphant,” the in-betweens on the eight-track/35-minute LP are light on nonsense and heavy on just about everything else as “Falling Crown” is indicative of the five-piece’s riffy foundations. They declare themselves Sabbathian early, but “Silence of the Soul” has more of a desert bounce transposed onto their own echoing palette and against the wall reminds a bit of the slower moments in whatever kind of metal it is Solace play. Their story isn’t fully written yet, but they put key aspects in place with this material.

Whitehovse on Bandcamp

Whitehovse on Instagram

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Hashishian, Sand Dragon

I don’t mean this to be an insult, but if you told me Hashishian‘s Sand Dragon was AI, I’d probably believe you. The band, from parts unknown, comprised of anonymous huffer pilgrims, are so steeped in the worship of Sleep, weed, riffs, and such, that the throatsinging vocals are a fit. Sand Dragon is meditative in its way, but it’s more stoned, and that’s the whole idea. What do you do with something that is pure worship? There is an original edge to their approach, though “Sand Dragon” itself is pretty dead-on Om, but if you’re a genre head, you know to which land “Follow the Riff” is going before its meganodder of a riff even departs. But I don’t think you take on Sand Dragon if you’re looking for originality-on-purpose. I think you take it on if you want to join them in their worship, and yeah, if you know what you’re getting going in, the naked, sans-pretense-otherwise homage happening throughout, the riff of “Meggido” just might make you a convert. Hail Cisneros.

Hashishian on Bandcamp

Hashishian on Instagram

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Scott Hepple and the Sun Band, English Mustard

Is garage rock inherently retro? Is there a way for a sound that was ‘mod’ when mod was mod to be the sound of the great forgetful now? I don’t know, but the UK’s Scott Hepple and the Sun Band take classic elements from garage, grunge, and heavier rock, and it’s hard to argue with the results of their formula in pieces like “Velvet Divorce” or the sweet acoustic strum of “Blue Door Jimmy,” the boogie of “Lead on Sonny Brown” and “Sweet Sugar High” and the more brash fuzz of “Fake a Smile,” as the 16-song long-player packs its 41-minute stretch tight enough that even the gag interlude “A Brief Advertisement” doesn’t come through as any more in a hurry than the rest of the proceedings. And they are in a hurry. Because they’re young and such is the way of young people. But that’s how it should be, and so, so are Scott Hepple and the Sun Band as they prove you can have ‘brash’ as a defining personality feature without needing to make yourself sound like a monster.

Scott Hepple and the Sun Band on Bandcamp

Rise Above Records website

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Blind Mess, The Storm Within

Immediacy is the order of the moment on Blind Mess‘ six-song The Storm Within EP, as the hit-hard trio from Munich delve into burl on “The Bell” before the throw-elbows punkthrash of “On the Edge” and the angular “Mirror of My Soul” feels all the more leveled out for the shouts that top it. They’re not without atmosphere, even before the standalone guitar introduces the first 30 seconds of “The Hemlock Cup,” but the idea is for the songs to hit you direct and they do. “The Hemlock Cup” has a burner of a solo later on, and “Sick Society” has its foundation in rock but still sounds like it listened to Megadeth in the 1990s (who among us.) before the shorter closer “Bleeding Hearts” renews the shove of “On the Edge.” It’s a quick 24 minutes and they make it feel quicker with pacing, but it’s still well enough time for the band to showcase a refined attack.

Blind Mess website

Blind Mess on Bandcamp

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Vordermann, Feeding on Flowers/

Striking a progressive first impression around material still geared for an impact despite all the turns, UK five-piece Vordermann bring elements of alternative rock into the hooks of “Delirium Tremors,” one of the three songs included on their debut EP, the intentionally-slashed Feeding on Flowers/. Intertwining vocals in a quiet stretch, weirdo shifts, post-rock drift and weighted drums beneath, melodies providing the payoff where opener “Cloudpiercer” is more about the heft, and the seven-minute “Saint Banger (The Lars Ulrich Torrent Finder General Drum Circle Experience)” moving through a long, soft-guitar intro — there’s no drum circle; there are samples — before a heavier nod arrives, ebbing and flowing until the shouted vocals arrive late to put it over the top. Look out for these guys. They give a killer showing here and in no way sound like this is the limit for where they want to take their sound. One hopes for more to come. Maybe we can find out what’s on the other side of that slash in the title.

Vordermann on Bandcamp

Vordermann on Instagram

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Aerolith, II

When Austrian cosmic-rocking instrumentalists — space rock, some My Sleeping Karma-esque keys, almost certainly jam-based, but with fluidity as a compositional priority either way — Aerolith sent their second album, II, in for review, I’ll admit that I didn’t know it came out late in 2017. Going on eight years ago. If you’re wondering, I think that’s the oldest release ever to feature in a Quarterly Review — the band’s latest work, Megalorama Part II, was released in 2023 — which I try to keep at least vaguely current. I don’t know why the 2017 record was sent, but they make it easy to dig the conversation happening between the keys and guitar throughout, and the mellow-heavy mindset of “Rain Walk” and “Aufschub,” that payoff in closer “Bug Nebula,” seems to still inform their sound on the newer offerings as well. I’m not about to start retconning the entire history of the underground in a Quarterly Review, so don’t send me all your old records, but I’m glad to have had the introduction to this band regardless.

Aerolith website

Aerolith on Bandcamp

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Occult Stereo, A Temporary Utopia

Experimentalism is crucial on this apparently-years-in-the-making second full-length from Athens-based mostly-solo outfit Occult Stereo, driven by self-recording multi-instrumentalist/vocalist/programmer Alex Eliopoulos, who blends electronic and organic instrumentation — the bedroom industrial of “In Between Lines” and “Kiss My Mask,” the acoustics of “A Glow” and “Power,” the variable drones of the otherwise anthemic “New Drip” and “Burn the Manifesto,” the fuzz ultranod of “Same Life Different Face” and the avant-garage “Not Mysterious”; it is a record that sets its own context and goes — to a readily divergent affect, melding styles across genres with expressive weirdness. At 11 songs and 64 minutes, it is a not insignificant undertaking, and surely A Temporary Utopia is not without its challenging aspects, but Eliopoulos isn’t on his own here — there are even guest vocals on “Power” — and as deep as Occult Stereo plunge, the spaces occupied are individual and fascinating.

Occult Stereo website

Occult Stereo on Bandcamp

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It’s been 11 years since Salt Lake City melodic heavy rockers Dwellers released their second album, 2014’s Pagan Fruit (review here, discussed here) as the follow-up to their 2011 debut, Good Morning Harakiri (review here, vinyl review here). Led by guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano (here also synth and Rhodes piano), the band’s bluesy, psychedelic sound was a departure from the desert-hued cosmos-bound charge of Toscano‘s prior band, Iota, with a focused songwriting process and regular delves into the ethereal around it.

Corrupt Translation Machine — i.e., a human trying to capture objectivity in a subjective reality is doomed to fail; this is also why authenticity is a myth and gods aren’t real — is the unexpected third album from Dwellers, arriving through Small Stone Records in time for the label’s 30th anniversary with a reconstructed band around Toscano, operating for the first time as a four-piece and welcoming Oz “Inglorious” Yosri (Iota, Bird Eater) on bass, Kellii Scott (Failure) on drums and Chase Cluff on synth and Rhodes. Produced by Toscano with tracking done in Utah and California, the nine-song/51-minute outing offers a debut’s ambitions in laying out a distinctive sound for Dwellers that’s both inherited from and unlike anything they’ve done before.

Now, I called Corrupt Translation Machine a surprise above, and it’s true — until a few months ago, nobody knew it was coming. Toscano wasn’t updating social media as every chord progression or vocal arrangement was hammered out, as the things-are-different-now synth flourished into opening cut “Headlines” or the later “The Sermon” found that riff in the writing process. The band’s been gone. However — and it’s a big however — in 2024, Iota offered up Pentasomnia (review here) as their own back-after-more-than-a-decade return.

In fact, in Iota‘s case, it had been even longer: 16 years since their 2008 debut, Tales (discussed here, discussed here), which I’ll gladly posit among the best records Small Stone has put out in its three decades. Given the challenge of living up to Tales, Iota revealed a style that had grown into adopting many of the bluesy, contemplative elements of Dwellers‘ Pagan Fruit and Good Morning Harakiri, blurring the lines between the two projects. If it was only going to be Iota, Toscano wouldn’t have to answer the question, but in bringing Dwellers back as their own band requires some measure of differentiation. This leads to asking, if Iota now sounds like Iota does, what does Dwellers sound like?

Understand this: I don’t think Joey Toscano — guitar in hand and heart on sleeve as he reveals what would seem to be the emotional crux of much of the album early in centerpiece “Inside Infinity” with the lines, “Falling/I am falling/In love with a girl/Who is dying” — intentionally sat down with this material and said, “okay, now I need to make it sound different from Iota.” To listen to Corrupt Translation Machine, however, is to be given a second glimpse at the kind of evolution Toscano‘s band undertook.

If Dwellers had put out another two or three albums between 2014 and 2025, I’d probably be sitting here telling you Corrupt Translation Machine is the latest forward step in an ongoing incremental growth on the part of the band. That they’d become yet more progressive-rock-leaning, that the synth and Rhodes continued to play a bigger role along with the foundation in the grungey melodies of Toscano‘s vocals, able to conjure a sense of float in the chorus for “The Beast” and croon regretfully in first half of the penultimate 11-minute sweeper “Marigold (Heart of Stone),” “Marigold/marigold/I thought you could learn to love me/Sadly, that just ain’t your thing.” But that context and those two or three albums between Pagan Fruit and Corrupt Translation Machine don’t exist.

Instead, for those who caught onto Dwellers in the ’10s, Corrupt Translation Machine is something of a jump. For those who didn’t know the band before and picked up on Iota‘s return last year, that Toscano succeeds so much in finding a new path forward for Dwellers will no doubt be all the more satisfying. The synth is part of it, as “Headlines” and “Inside Infinity” and the sci-fi sounds building out the psychedelic-drone of closer “Made (Psych Ward Mix),” demonstrate, but Corrupt Translation Machine is also outwardly heavier than Dwellers have been before.

This is held back from the succession of three sub-five-minute rockers at the front, “Headlines,” “Spiral Vision” and the suitably bluesier “Old Ways,” but “The Beast” reveals a bigger low-end tonality, and both “The Maze” and “The Sermon” feel informed by European dark-prog in the blend of creeping lead guitar and roiling lower-frequency heft. Coupled with Toscano‘s capability to handle both sides of the Cantrell/Staley-type harmony on “Spiral Vision,” the proggier, somewhat metallic expanses of “Inside Infinity” and the resolution of “Marigold (Heart of Stone),” and Dwellers circa ’25 have no issue distinguishing themselves from either the band’s past or Toscano‘s other ongoing project.

And as much as the sound of Corrupt Translation Machine is on its own wavelength, the overarching, unifying factor between “Headlines” and “The Maze,” “Spiral Vision” and “Made (Psych Ward Mix)” is in the emotionality portrayed through the songs and performances. Even “Made (Psych Ward Mix),” with its Rhodes-chime sounds and ultra-atmospheric setting, retains a core of human expression, and as severe as “The Beast” might feel in the turns and rearing-backs of its first half, let alone the chug it unfurls from there, the emotive purpose is maintained, kept as a focal point within the breadth of the material.

That lets a song like “Marigold (Heart of Stone)” feel intimate while also being an 11-minute heavyprog epic, a crescendo for both the audio and theme of the album, and unrepentantly aware of itself in the process. If all perspective, all ‘translation’ in the sense of the album’s title, is flawed, then what humans are left with is the sometimes discomfiting goo of our own big feelings as the basis of reality. It’s a more complex vision of existence than ‘there’s one world and we’re living in it,’ but Dwellers‘ argument for intricacy takes place in multiple dimensions.

Dwellers, Corrupt Translation Machine (2025)

Dwellers on Bandcamp

Dwellers on Facebook

Small Stone Records website

Small Stone Records on Bandcamp

Small Stone Records on Instagram

Small Stone Records on Facebook

I wrote the bio that appears below for Dwellers‘ first album in 11 years, Corrupt Translation Machine — starts at “Dwellers’…,” ends at my name — so you’ll pardon me if I don’t pretend to have not heard it. If you caught the righteous return of guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano‘s other band, Iota, last year, and if you heard the two records Dwellers put out during their initial post-Iota run, in 2012 and 2014, you’ll probably have high expectations going into this third LP.

They’ll be met, if perhaps not in the way one anticipates. Corrupt Translation Machine‘s first single is “The Sermon,” which is a heavy culmination that comes late in the record, but so much more of the material is about the texture and the atmosphere being molded through the songwriting, the soulful melodies, and the emotional expression. The 11-minute finale shows a range Dwellers have never had before, and the entire journey of a record sets the band on a path distinct from Iota while still brimming with progressive construction.

Release date just got posted as May 23. Here’s the info (mostly the aforementioned bio) as hoisted from Bandcamp:

Dwellers’ story has always been one of diversion and redirection. Begun in Salt Lake City by guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano – also of Iota – the band’s 2012 debut, Good Morning Harakiri, and its 2014 follow-up, Pagan Fruit, helped establish a distinct creative voice in psychedelia and Americana-tinged blues rock, expressive and vulnerable in ways that heavy rock and roll is rarely willing to be.

Corrupt Translation Machine, which brings bassist Oz Inglorious (Iota, ex-Bird Eater), drummer Kellii Scott (Failure) and pianist/synthesist Chase Cluff (Last) to a completely revamped four-piece lineup, is both a reinvention and continuation of Dwellers’ purpose. The album lays claim to the heaviest sounds Dwellers have yet produced, and meets that head on with poppish fluidity and melodicism as the album sets out with “Headlines,” only to take greater risks later. Love and the potential of its loss meet with expansive, sometimes cinematic texturing, and just as Toscano led Iota into a career-defining reignition with 2024’s comeback LP, Pentasomnia, so too do Dwellers declare themselves with Corrupt Translation Machine.

“In the context of the album, the Corrupt Translation Machine is the human being,” reveals Toscano. “The songs on this album seem to be mostly about impermanence, addiction, loss, love, and the intangibility of perception. I say ‘seem to’ because there was no contrived concept for the album to be one thing or another, and when I listen to it, I have a strong feeling that I’m interpreting it just the same as when I’m listening to someone else’s songs. I could tell you exactly what each song is about, but that would go against the title of the album.”

The evocative tapestry of Dwellers’ sound has evolved in craft, intention and performance. It’s not just about having new people on board or about not sounding like Iota. Corrupt Translation Machine posits Dwellers as a singular entity as it engages classic progressivism and breadth in the 11-minute “Marigold (Heart of Stone)” or shifts into the outright tonal crush of “The Beast” or the weighted push of “The Maze.” No one song is just one thing, however, and as Dwellers bring together ideas from across a range of styles from space rock to dirt-coated grunge, the listening experience becomes less about genre and more about soul.

In this way, and despite the title, Corrupt Translation Machine could hardly communicate more clearly what and who Dwellers are as a band. And more, it speaks to the greater ongoing thread of their progression, renewed after 11 years and somehow still right on time. – JJ Koczan

Tracklisting:
Side A:
1. Headlines – 04:03
2. Spiral Vision – 04:21
3. Old Ways – 04:33
4. The Beast – 05:41
5. The Maze – 04:26
Side B:
6. Inside Infinity – 05:21
7. The Sermon – 05:04
8. Marigold (Heart of Stone) – 11:05

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 Sasitch 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
Layout by Alexander von Wieding, zeichentier.com
Published by Small Stone Records (ASCAP).

Dwellers are:
Joey Toscano: guitars, vocals, synth, rhodes piano
Oz Inglorious: bass
Kellii Scott: drums
Chase Cluff: synthesizers, rhodes piano

https://www.facebook.com/dwellersband
https://dwellers.bandcamp.com/

http://www.smallstone.com
https://smallstone.bandcamp.com/
http://www.instagram.com/smallstonerecords
http://www.facebook.com/smallstonerecords

Dwellers, Corrupt Translation Machine (2025)

Last heard from with 2021’s DeLores Session (review here), Portuguese heavy rockers Miss Lava today announce the advent of their fifth full-length, Under a Black Sun, also their third for Small Stone Records. To go along with the album announcement, the Lisboa, Portugal, four-piece are streaming the title track which also doubles as the record’s closer, which gives a first impression as much about texture as heft, working up from an initial strum and melodic vocal to a fully immersive, hooky push, to cap the record.

What precedes the title-track across the 52-minute expanse varies, and for a band who are no strangers to dynamics, it should be no surprise that different songs go different places. Some are more direct, some more sprawling like “Dark Tomb Nebula” at the outset or attitude-laced like “I Drown,” but the point is the first single is more of a lead-in than total representation for the work it heralds. More to come ahead of the April 25 release, which the band will celebrate by supporting Graveyard in Portugal the next night.

The PR wire has initial details:

MISS LAVA – Under a Black Sun out April 25 on Small Stone

Like distant moons spitting fire, Miss Lava forged their new album “Under a Black Sun”. Carrying a darker and heavier emotional weight than their previous outings, the band’s fifth album is set to be released through Small Stone Records in the beginning of 2025.

“It’s a pretty intense record. I guess our life experiences over the past years have made us delve into a darker matter. We explored new territories and had a blast creating this album.” says singer Johnny Lee.

The release of “Under a Black Sun” will celebrate the band’s longevity, marking their 20th anniversary. A sonic fire with many cosmic swirls that urges to be unleashed live.

“It has been a hell of a ride since we started rehearsing in a small studio in Lisbon back in 2005. Having this record come out 20 years later with a partner like Small Stone is the best thing we could wish for. Now we just need to get out there and play these songs live everywhere we can!” confirms guitarist K. Raffah.

This mystical rite of creation was the first record with drummer Pedro Gonçalves, bringing a heavier vibe to the band. It was taped once again with Miguel “Veg” Marques, who handled the band’s previous record “Doom Machine”.

“Under a Black Sun” is the successor to the praised “Doom Machine” (2021), “Dominant Rush EP” (2017), “Sonic Debris” (2016), “Red Supergiant” (2013), and “Blues for the Dangerous Miles” (2009) and a limited edition self-titled blood red vinyl EP (2008).

Over the years, the band has played live in clubs and festivals in the UK, Spain, Germany and of course Portugal. Miss Lava Lava even made a one-off appearance at the legendary Whisky a Go-Go in Los Angeles. The band has shared the stage with the likes of Queens of the Stone Age, Slash, Graveyard, Ufommammut, Greenleaf, Kyuss Lives!, Fu Manchu, Valient Thorr, Entombed, Truckfighters and many more.

Tracklisting:
1. Dark Tomb Nebula
2. Neon Gods
3. Evil Eye of a Witch
4. Chaos Strain
5. Woe Warrior
6. The Bends
7. Fear in Overdrive
8. I Drown
9. Blue Sky on Mars
10. Elara
11. Under a Black Sun

Keys on “Blue Sky on Mars”, “Dark Tomb Nebula”, “Elara”,
“Evil Eye of the Witch” and “Woe Warrior” by Miguel “Veg” Marques.
Vocals on “Elara” by Alexandra Quintas “Bebé”.

Produced by Miss Lava and Miguel “Veg” Marques.
Recorded and engineered by Miguel “Veg” Marques at Generator Music Studios, Magoito, Sintra, between April and May 2024.

Alexandra’s vocals on “Elara” recorded by Ricardo Quintas at QMusic Studio in May 2024.

Mixed by Steve Lehane at Rustbelt Studios, Detroit, MI.
Mastered by Chris Goosman at Baseline Audio Labs – Ann Arbor, MI.
Design and Artwork by João Filipe.
Photography by Manuel Portugal.

Miss Lava is:
Johnny Lee: vocals
K. Raffah: guitars
P. Gonçalves: drums
Ricardo Ferreira: bass

https://www.facebook.com/MissLavaOfficial/
http://www.instagram.com/miss.lava/
https://misslava.bandcamp.com/
http://misslava.com/

Miss Lava, Under a Black Sun (2025)

This was a band that could, and regularly did, put on a hell of a show. Didn’t matter that you were in The Saint or the Brighton at 10PM on some Wednesday or other in 2003 — Lord Sterling were about to rip a hole in the cosmos. The band were based in Long Branch and had a connection to Monster Magnet through bassist Jim Baglino, who also held down low end for the Garden State heavy forerunners at the time, but were their own thing through and through. Frontman Robert Ryan, shouting and madcap in “This Time it’s for Real” or “Tough Times for the Troubadours” but mellow and Floydian in the repetitions of “Thread Will Be Torn” from the band’s third and final LP, 2004’s Today’s Song for Tomorrow, defined no small part of their onstage persona, but guitarist Mike Schweigert (also Moog), Baglino (also also Moog) and drummer Jason Silverio explored psychedelic textures and classic blowout heavy rock in a way that was prescient of a generation of spacey stylizations and managed to do so from a foundation of influence in hardcore and post-hardcore. So it’s been over 20 years and I still don’t know where the organ in “Password” or the ultra-Hawkwindian push of “Hidden Flame” — which feels prescient of Ecstatic Vision to such a degree that I’d advocate the Philly band covering the song because (1:) it’s good and (2:) they could make it their own without it being too obvious — come from, but I do know that Lord Sterling delivered range without pretense, were not afraid of scope, and never harnessed that to the sacrifice of raw energy.

Lord Sterling had two records before Today’s Song for Tomorrow, which rivals Nebula in its out-the-airlock spacey vibe and caps with an of-its-era take on Pink Floyd‘s “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun,” which feels at half a solar system’s remove from the barroom rock of “Poison Lips” or the punk it seems to lead toward in the second half of “Evaporate” and “Tough Times for the Troubadours” before the title-track is over everything in a way that feels very Sonic Youth but that could just be the East Coast talking. Along the way, whether it’s the Stooges garage sway into the noisy finish of “Poison Lips” or “Hidden Flame” with Ryan‘s sitar setting the central rhythm, the punking-up of Monster Magnet that coincides with the title line being shouted into the cacophony, the pointedly mellow twist that “Thread Will Be Torn” offers — if we’re talking prescience and “Hidden Flame” anticipates Ecstatic Vision, I would cite “Thread Will Be Torn” as a heads up on Tau and the Drones of Praise for some of its cross-source worldly spirit and the fuzzy drift that winds through its subdued flow, but if you want to say the band called it on neo-psych becoming a thing more generally, I wouldn’t argue — they answer impulses toward structure and freakout in kind. Additional drumming by Keith Ackerman (The Atomic Bitchwax, ex-Solace) and Hammond, piano and strings from Shane M. Green helped flesh out arrangements that already demonstrated the flexibility to withstand them.

I guess maybe Lord Sterling were subject to the perils of being a band somewhat between different styles. New York at the time had a pretty clear divide between who was playing hipster classic garage indie and who wasn’t. Lord Sterling — certainly in either of their first two records, 1997’s Your Ghost Will Walk or the more arc-defining 2002 follow-up, Weapon of Truth, which came out on the Tee Pee-adjacent Rubric Records, run (I believe) by at least some of the crew behind Manhattan’s the Knitting Factory when that was a thing — could veer between the brash and the aggressive, and they weren’t shy about either when they got there. I saw them a bunch during this period and won’t feign impartiality. But of Today’s Song for Tomorrow‘s tracks, cuts like “Pivotal Plane,” “This Time it’s for Real” and “Evaporate” stand out from remembering the band bringing them to life on stage. Since it’s been more than two decades, that feels notable, even if it has little to do with how someone listening for the first time will hear them.

If you are new to Lord Sterling though — if, say, you’re not from New Jersey, which is enough in itself to make you weird where I come from, which is New Jersey — as you take on Today’s Song for Tomorrow there are a couple things to keep in mind. One, this record came out 21 years ago. I’m not saying it’s sounds cutting edge, but if “Password” showed up as a single in my inbox I certainly wouldn’t call it dated. Two, no matter where they go, it’s punk-based. They’re ’90s hardcore kids. That’s true of the tantric psych mediation of “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun,” and the grungey shrugoff in “Today’s Song for Tomorrow” itself, and the charged psychedelic rock wrought by “Hidden Flame.” Everywhere Lord Sterling go, they depart from the same place. That will help unite the songs in your mind, but Ryan‘s vocals — like a not-shitty Jim Morrison — play a role there too, wanting nothing for depth or expressive force in mood.

I don’t know what these guys are up to. Ryan, who I think had the nickname Bing (?), was tattooing. Like 15 years ago, I saw Schweigert in his more aggro next band, The Ominous Order of Filthy Mongrels, but I’m not sure if anything ever came of that or what, because life happens and so on. The good news is this record’s still out there. I know CDs of all three Lord Sterling full-lengths still exist, certainly the latter two, but in a time when turn-of-the-century heavy is getting another look, their take feels like it’s communing with a whole bunch of stuff that’s come out since while remaining firm in its own perspective. Maybe recent events have me feeling nostalgic for this era of NJ heavy. Brighton Bar, and such. That’s fine. You could do a lot worse than to listen to something because you like it.

Thanks for reading.

—

It snowed here last Sunday night. There was no school Monday, which was also the presidential inauguration, because of MLK Day. We went sledding with two other families from The Pecan’s first grade class, folks we know from school pickup and being around the school generally, blah blah. Normal suburban bourgeois shit. You get the picture.

We were there for maybe an hour and got some good sledding in before The Pecan took a borrowed sled face-first into a metal fencepole, opening a gash in her forehead wide enough that her skull could be seen by anyone who managed to bring themselves to look. I ran down the hill and picked her up — no loss of consciousness or responsiveness; we’ve done head trauma in the past, remember; you look immediately for these things — and her face was of course covered in blood because it’s a headwound. There were a bunch of families on the sledding hill behind the high school, and it turned out that included two moms who were RNs. Fucking women, man. Dudes are clueless. Do you know how wrecked society would be if men actually ran it? I mean, how wrecked it is anyway?

Anyhow, these moms were great and got my kid in a useful position and started to clean her up, ask her questions, tell me what to do, while we waited for the ambulance to come. The cop came first, obviously. Not like he was doing anything. Another dumb boy to get in the way of Competent Moms sorting shit out. Mom #2 had a roll of paper towels, for crying out loud. Officer Mehoff could never hope to compete with that.

The EMT worker in the back of the ambulance, it turned out, liked Zelda, so we chatted about Echoes of Wisdom on the way to the emergency room, which was good for keeping The Pecan (and me, in the interest of honesty), calm. Once we saw the cleaned up wound — featuring, again, her actual fucking skull — we knew the tenor of the day had changed. The Patient Mrs. showed up at the ER, having run home to grab clothes and such (my pants were still wet from sitting on the ground, kid was covered in blood, and so on) and we sat for about an hour and waited in the pediatric ER. A nurse had come through and stuck some gauze in the hole in her forehead, wrapped it up, and she watched Zelda fan-theory YouTube videos on my phone while we waited. The Patient Mrs. read on her iPad. I nodded off in the chair.

A couple rounds of talking to the doctor and like two earth hours later, we ended up driving east on Rt. 80 — The Patient Mrs. drove there, I drove home; a little unnerving being in the car with a major open wound on board — to the office of every plastic surgeon you’ve ever seen in a movie, who would finally close her up and send us on our way for ice cream, confident the dent in her face wasn’t permanent and that, indeed, all would be well by his next teetime, surely within 24 hours. Place was a riot, unless you thought of it as an example of the horrors that stem from mixing capital and medicine. But what fun is that? Or use?

To that end, it was almost fortunate that my seven-year-old daughter broke open her face early in the sunny afternoon, because it offered an excellent chance to not watch, or listen to, or read about, the inauguration. Something better to focus on? Much appreciated, even if the ‘something’ in question is a different kind of terrible.

But she’s doing well, is this Pecan. Both the ER doctor and the plastic surgeon assured The Patient Mrs. and I of her toughness, both saying “I don’t always say this, but…” and then I guess telling us she should go try out for Jackass: TNG or something. Yeah, she’s tough. I know. Try sharing a house.

I don’t know how much of a scar she’ll have. When I was six, I cut my leg open and, like her, it was deep enough to need stitches inside (for muscle) and outside (for the fleshy flesh). I have a six-inch scar on the inside of my right thigh that’s been there calling me stupid for basically my entire life. I’d prefer she have neither the scar nor the self-blame.

We’ve been gooping her head with Neosporin every couple hours, and she’s got antibiotics that are disgusting but that she’s taking anyway, because tough, and “limiting her activity” basically just means The Patient Mrs. and I get stressed out when she runs across the living room furniture, so apart from that — because usually we don’t care — it’s business as usual. She’ll heal up and we’ll be onto the next thing before you know it. What I wonder is whether she’ll remember this long-term. She doesn’t at this point remember falling down the basement stairs and cracking her skull in March 2021 — and fair enough, she was three — but that was a worse trauma than this. For everybody. It’s funny to think this might end up as some defining moment in her life and both her mother and I are like, “Meh, we’ve seen worse. Suck it up, stitchy!”

In any case, if there’s a parenting decision, really any kind of decision about any kind of thing, I’m sure I’m fucking it up. Turns out that the magic someday-I’ll-be-a-grown-up-with-my-shit-together day that I always dreamed was on the horizon is in fact a myth perpetuated to sell hair growth formula and pricey shirts. I’m 43 years old, and given my family history, lifestyle and demographics, there’s just about no feasible way my life isn’t more than halfway over. Some part of me is always going to be that same kid who sat on a glass fishbowl and sliced a hole in his leg big enough to stick your arm through.

My father, hateful and disdainful though he was, applied so much pressure on my bleeding-out leg that I had bruises for weeks after. The doctor said he saved my life, and I believe he did. We didn’t even like each other, ever, and he was for sure no paragon of having his shit together, but that was a thing he did for me. I could barely make it up the sledding hill with my kid without falling down. What a wreck.

And it’s sad, and I know it’s sad, but there’s also a certain kind of freedom in letting go of the expectation that it’s ever going to get better. That there will come a point at which it will all click and I’ll always know where my phone is, or I’ll finally be caught up on vacuuming, or I’ll get in shape in some kind of “once and for all” permanent way that doesn’t even exist in the first place.

I’m not that guy. I never could be. Maybe I’m a loser. Fine. I look around at who’s winning these days and I think maybe I’m better off not.

Thanks for reading and have a great and safe weekend. I’m back Monday with more and I’m in Vegas next week to cover Planet Desert Rock Weekend, which will be a hoot. Much appreciated if you keep up.

FRM.

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