Posted in Bootleg Theater on December 21st, 2015 by JJ Koczan
Must be getting on winter as thoughts return to Iceland’s Sólstafir and their 2014 Ótta (review here). I expect that will be the case for years to come and regardless of whatever the band does next, since some albums just stand in for a certain time, place, etc., and Ótta was such a winter record. Its black and white progressive feel finds new manifestation in a video for the subdued piano piece “Miðaftann,” and perhaps unsurprisingly, the desolate atmospherics of the clip suit the song perfectly.
I wouldn’t exactly call it subtle in terms of visual metaphor, a stranded sailor carrying a white flag across an empty volcanic landscape in hope of finding his salvation somewhere, presumably anywhere that might hold life, screaming and grinding his hands into the black dirt along the way, but as a set-piece, its nod to The Seventh Seal feels appropriate, and while the band don’t appear, the cinematic value of the work holds the viewer in place to find out where and how the narrative will end. Spoiler alert: the ending is in color.
To go with the new video, Sólstafir just announced a string of UK/European dates for May 2016 in which they’ll play Ótta in its entirety, with full string and piano arrangements. You can find the info for that tour, as well as some comment from the band on the song and the director on the video, as well of course as the video itself, all below.
Enjoy:
Sólstafir, “Miðaftann” official video
Enigmatic Icelandic rock band SOLSTAFIR have seen the release of a new video for the track “Miðaftann”. The video, directed by Harri Haataja and Vesa Ranta, is streaming now.
Regarding the video, SOLSTAFIR guitarist/frontman Aðalbjörn Tryggvason comments, “The track is about wandering in darkness. Playing chess with Death, getting burned by salt, drowning in the ultimate wave of sin and returning back home by using moonlight as navigation.”
Video directors Harri Haataja and Vesa Ranta comment, “They told us a real-life story about a sailor who lost his crew at sea and was stranded to shore as the only survivor,” the directors write. “He proceeded to find his way to town and [along the way] he found a barrel filled with water. But the water was frozen, so he had to punch through the ice with his bare hands to fight the dehydration. Eventually, after a long journey, he found his way to town and survived.”
May 2016: Ótta in its entirety – complete with strings and piano – followed by a selection of fan favourites from Solstafir’s history.
14 May 16 London (UK) Islington Assembly Hall 15 May 16 Paris (FR) Divan du Monde 16 May 16 Haarlem (NL) Patronaat 17 May 16 Hamburg (DE) Gruenspan 18 May 16 Leipzig (DE) Taubchental 19 May 16 Aarau (CH) KiFF 20 May 16 Wörgl (AT) Komma 21 May 16 Wien (AT) Arena 22 May 16 Praha (CZ) Palac Akropolis
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 13th, 2015 by JJ Koczan
Icelandic outfit Sólstafir have begun a new European tour alongside The Ocean and Mono that follows a stint in Japan with Anathema last month in support of 2014’s Ótta (review here), released on Season of Mist and which even now sounds like winter beckoning. The melancholic, emotionally-driven heavy post-rockers have been around the world to herald the album, including North America, and they’re showing no signs of slowing down. The current run will take them into the beginning of next month, running all the way up to Damnation Festival in Leeds, UK.
They’ve also got a brand new drummer in Hallgrímur Jón Hallgrímsson. The PR wire has it like this:
SOLSTAFIR kick off European tour
SÓLSTAFIR are kicking off their European autumn tour with MONO and THE OCEAN at the Voxhall in Aarhus, Denmark tonight. SÓLSTAFIR are furthermore announcing Hallgrímur Jón Hallgrímsson as the new man on the drum stool for this road-trip (photo-credit: Mikio Ariga). All confirmed dates can be viewed below.
“Please welcome our current touring drummer, Hallgrímur Jón Hallgrímsson!”, states Aðalbjörn Tryggvason. “He already played some shows with us, and we are looking very much forward to have him aboard on this journey. His previous bands include TENDERFOOT, BEE SPIDERS, and JEFF WHO.”
12 Oct 15 Aarhus (DK) Voxhall 13 Oct 15 Oslo (NO) Vulkan Arena 14 Oct 15 Stockholm (SE) Debaser Medis 16 Oct 15 Turku (FI) Vimma 17 Oct 15 Helsinki (FI) Cirkus 18 Oct 15 St. Petersburg (RU) Zhal Ozhidaniya 19 Oct 15 Moscow (RU) Volta 21 Oct 15 Vilnius (LI) New York 22 Oct 15 Warszawa (PL) Proxima 23 Oct 15 Berlin (DE) Heimathafen SOLD OUT! 24 Oct 15 Leeuwarden (NL) Into the Void Fest 26 Oct 15 Köln (DE) Live Music Hall 27 Oct 15 Wiesbaden (DE) Schlachthof 28 Oct 15 München (DE) Backstage 29 Oct 15 Bologna (IT) Locomotiv 30 Oct 15 Mezzago (IT) Bloom 31 Oct 15 Lyon (FR) CCO Villeurbanne 01 Nov 15 Barcelona (ES) Apolo 02 Nov 15 Toulouse (FR) Metronum 03 Nov 15 Lausanne (CH) Les Docks 04 Nov 15 Zürich (CH) Harterei 05 Nov 15 Paris (FR) Trabendo 06 Nov 15 London (UK) Electric Ballroom 07 Nov 15 Leeds (UK) Damnation Fest
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 1st, 2015 by JJ Koczan
Globetrotting Icelanders Sólstafir are playing Japan this week in support of their 2014 Season of Mist release, Ótta (review here), which as we come to the end of summer 2015 has been on my mind with the lingering threat of colder weather. The band have been touring their collective arse off for Ótta, playing in Europe and North America, where they’re basically introducing people to who they are and what they do — I’ll make no attempts to claim I’m Johnny Groundfloor; this spring was my first time seeing them too — but as processes go, that one seems to be going well. I would not be surprised to have them come back to the States before they do another record, but after Japan it’s Europe next on deck, so we’ll just have to see what winter brings.
Other than a massive amount of repeat listens for Ótta, that is. Sorry, but some records are just made for low temperatures.
This, from the PR wire:
SOLSTAFIR kick off tour dates in Japan
Enigmatic Icelandic rock band SOLSTAFIR have kicked off a trek to Japan tonight, where the band are performing two exclusive dates in Tokyo alongside British progressive legends, ANATHEMA. The Japanese tour dates see the band perform ahead of their previously announced European tour alongside MONO and THE OCEAN, taking place later this October. A full list of confirmed tour dates can be found below.
SOLSTAFIR are touring in support of their critically acclaimed new album , ‘Otta’. The album is streaming here, and is available now at theSeason of Mist E-shop.
SOLSTAFIR Japanese tour dates: 8/31 Tokyo, JP @ Liquid Room w/ANATHEMA 9/1 Tokyo, JP @ Liquid Room w/ANATHEMA SOLSTAFIR European tour dates: 10/12 Aarhus, DK @ Voxhall 10/13 Oslo, NO @ Vulkan Arena 10/14 Stockholm, SE @ Debaser Medis 10/18 St. Petersburg, RU @ Zhal Ozhidaniya 10/19 Moscow, RU @ Volta 10/21 Vilnius, LI @ NEW YORK 10/22 Warsaw, PL @ Proxima 10/23 Berlin, DE @ Heimathafen 10/24 Leeuwarden, NL @ Into the Void Fest 10/26 Cologne, DE @ Live Music Hall 10/27 Wiesbaden, DE @ Schlachthof 10/28 Munich, DE @ Backstage 10/29 Bologna, IT @ Locomativ 10/30 Mezzago, IT @ Bloom 10/31 Lyon, FR @ CCO Villeurbanne 11/02 Toulouse, FR @ Metronum 11/03 Lausanne, CH @ Les Docks 11/04 Zurich, CH @ Harterei 11/05 Paris, FR @ Trabendo 11/06 London, UK @ Electric Ballroom 11/07 Leeds, UK @ Damnation Fest
Posted in Features, Reviews on April 10th, 2015 by JJ Koczan
04.11.15 — 01.17 — Fri. Night — Hotel
The curated day is a Roadburn tradition going back to David Tibet of Current 93, who was the fest’s first curator in 2008. This year, the hallowed duty was bestowed on Enslaved guitarist Ivar Bjørnson and Wardruna multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Einar “Kvitrafn” Selvik, and their day took on the title “Houses of the Holistic.” I don’t know who picked what individual band for what stage, or if the two agreed on everything or what the situation was, but I know the results were pretty magical, particularly on the Main Stage, which hosted — in order — Virus, Sólstafir, Fields of the Nephilim, Warduna and Enslaved, who joined forces for the final set of the evening to perform Skuggsjá, a Norse-minded work originally commissioned to honor the 200th anniversary of the Norwegian constitution and first performed at the Eidsivablot festival last fall. To my knowledge, Roadburn 2015 is the second time it’s ever been played in public.
I did some wandering, as one will, but the day started with Virus, who played Roadburn in 2012 and were among the most talked-about bands that year. I knew I didn’t want to miss them again, so I got to the main hall well in time for their start, which unfolded quickly in a technically intricate post-black metal from the lineup of guitarist Carl-Michael “Czral” Eide, bassist Petter “Plenem” Berntsen and drummer Einar Sjursø. They came highly recommended, and while I heard The Black Flux, their second album, when it was released in 2008, that was also seven years ago and it seemed reasonable to expect they would’ve progressed even further along their dissonant path. Sure enough, while they dipped back to their debut, 2003’s Carheart, for “Be Elevator,” it was the material from 2011’s The Agent that Shapes the Desert that most stood out to me, “Chromium Sun,” which appeared early in the set, and “Dead Cities of Syria,” which followed soon after, as well as the new song that served as their closer, “Rogue Fossils,” which Eide teased as being included in their to-be-recorded fourth record, calling it “atonal.”
A challenging start to the day, but Virus‘ avant twists weren’t impossible to track. “Rogue Fossils” was downright catchy,” and the turns of “Lost Peacocks” from The Black Flux weren’t so sharp as to go off the rails. Obviously that’s a credit to the trio, whose sound is individualized enough that it could only have grown organically. If you were to start a band and say, “Okay, we’re going to sound like this,” wherein “this” is Virus, it would fall flat. Some things just need to grow on their own. It was an impressive showing, but I also wanted to catch Ivar Bjørnson‘s ambient project, BardSpec, which was making its debut on Stage01, the smallest of the rooms at the 013. Easy enough to wander over, and I managed the rare feat of getting in before it was too packed and found Bjørnson‘s experimental side in full display, a table set up on the stage with mixing boards, guitars — Enslaved‘s Arve “Ice Dale” Isdal sat in on guitar, and I mean “sat” literally; he was behind the table, largely hidden from view, sitting on a monitor wedge — a laptop and no doubt two or three other swirl-making doodads obstructed from view.
Decked out in a shirt the homemade-seeming designs of which reacted with the blacklights in the room to look like they were glowing in the dark and glasses with lights in them, Bjørnson soundscaped and built on waves of drone from Isdal‘s guitar, manipulating a live mix while video played on the screen behind. Formative, maybe, but ambitious, and Enslaved bassist/vocalist Grutle Kjellson showed up to watch as well. With a primary focus on atmospherics, it was maybe more of something you’d put and close your eyes to than something to watch on stage, but I almost always find the live creation of droning sounds interesting, to think of that as part of a performance. I stayed for a while and went back and forth to watch Virus finish their set, waiting for Icelandic four-piece Sólstafir to take the Main Stage, which they did — in force, by storm, or however else you want to say it. Like Virus, they played in 2012 and were much heralded, though they also played yesterday doing the live soundtrack to the Icelandic film Hrafninn Flýgur (“Flight of the Raven“), so either way, the Roadburn crowd was familiar with their wares.
Even after playing yesterday, though, Sólstafir drew what was at that point the biggest crowd I’d seen so far at the Main Stage. There were many Sólstafir shirts in the audience, and it didn’t take long for the band — who’ve had the same lineup since the turn of the century with guitarist/vocalist Aðalbjörn Tryggvason, guitarist Sæþór Maríus Sæþórsson, bassist Svavar Austman and drummer Guðmundur Óli Pálmason — to demonstrate how they earned such loyalty. Supporting last year’s fifth LP, Ótta (review here), they played “Dagmál,” album-opener “Lágnætti” and the title-track right off the bat, Tryggvason a consummate, emotive and charismatic frontman, wielding an e-bow for his guitar as if it was powered by his heart, but the whole band just dead on, through and through. I had been looking forward to seeing them for a while, and they more than justified the anticipation. The ending of “Ótta” alone was worth standing there, but I stayed put for just about the entire set and was treated to “Kukl” and the title-cut from 2011’s double-album, Svartir Sandar, as well as “Rismál” from Ótta, which was a highlight, and “Goddess of the Ages” from 2009’s Köld.
The latter showed off some blackened roots, but there was strong sense of performance running through the whole set, and as far back as Sólstafir dipped into their catalog, that tied the show together. A dynamic band, strong in mood and consistent in their songwriting, they also held down that stage, no questions whatsoever. In their energy and their presence, they owned it. Another album or two to follow-up Ótta and I would not at all be surprised to find Sólstafir return to Roadburn in a couple years even higher on the bill. I won’t get to see them on their US tour, which begins April 22 (dates here), but at least now I know what I’m missing. I can’t imagine what they’d be like in a smaller space — Reggies in Chicago, Red 7 in Austin, etc. — if Tryggvason would go into the crowd as he did for “Goddess of the Ages” before climbing back on stage to end out with more e-bow. They’re something special, and I got the vibe from their set that they’d likely be something special whatever the context in which one happened to be seeing them.
There was a break in between Sólstafir and Fields of the Nephilim, so I shuffled over to the merch area and picked up a couple odds and ends — mostly Live at Roadburn releases; Papir, Papermoon, Sula Bassana, and I had my eye on a YOB, The Unreal Never Lived Live at Roadburn 2012 LP that I might have to make mine on the morrow — and ran back to the hotel to drop off the goods, getting back in time for the legendary UK goth rockers to hit the Main Stage, carrying with them a host of classics I’m woefully out of my depth discussing, having never really followed vocalist Carl McCoy or the band. They were something unknown to me, which has an appeal on its own, and particularly following Sólstafir, it was easy to read a Fields of the Nephilim influence in retrospect, in headwear and style. I never gothdanced, but there were some shimmying shoulders to be seen for “Dawnrazor,” “Moonchild” and others, though with Dutch prog legends Focus shortly on in the Green Room, the Main Stage attendance thinned out noticeably, Fields of the Nephilim having gone on about 15 minutes late. They’re back tomorrow as the headliners on the Main Stage.
As I understand it, that’s because Walter is a huge fan, which is probably the best reason you’re ever going to see a band playing Roadburn. They don’t have a new record out, they’re not touring, but they’re here doing two sets because Walter, who is the head, figurehead and face of the festival, loves them. Who could argue? I’m not sure I’m a convert, but it gave me a chance to get some dinner, watch Focus through the door for a bit — I’d done similar with Icelandic black metallers Svartidauði earlier, and found them satisfyingly ripping — and still get back in time for the start of Wardruna, about whom I had zero preconceptions. Before they went on, two tiers were added to the stage, making room for the Norwegian outfit’s range of percussion, vocalists, and so on.
Very much led by Selvik — he was the only one on the lowest level of the stage while they played — they were nonetheless an orchestra. Atmospheres so thick you could swim in them, harmonies rang out in Norwegian, telling Viking tales of a history to which I can’t relate but set me off wondering what it might be like to be from a place with a traditionally homogeneous culture; how it might be to have a “team” in terms of nationality. Americans divide. That’s what we do. I don’t have any experience with a history like that into which Wardruna seemed to be tapping, Selvik with a variety of traditional instruments at hand. It’s easy to respect it, and the performance, if you’ll pardon my saying, was splendid. Soulful, rich, immersive and as complex and beautiful as anything I’ve heard at Roadburn in my seven trips here. But even “Americana” discounts entire portions of my nation’s population, so outside the language barrier, I had a bit of cultural wall standing between me and Wardruna‘s Viking paeans, though by the time they got around to the memorable dirge “Helvegen” from 2013’s Runaljod – Yggdrasil, I was ready to set sail on whatever hand-carved ship they might’ve had parked outside the 013. One could almost hear the lapping waves of the Norwegian Sea.
Over in the Green Room, it was a different kind of traditionalism playing out. Oslo-based trio Tombstones riffed loud, riffed early and riffed often — their tones a dense, earplug-vibrating lumber that grooved on vicious roll. I knew I liked that band from 2013’s Red Skies and Dead Eyes (review here), but I didn’t realize quite how much I liked that band. Guitarist Bjørn-Viggo Godtland and bassist Ole Christian Helstad shared vocal duties atop their own punishing low-tone and drummer Markus Støle‘s swinging crash, and with a hooded statue of Death on either side of the stage, they played some material I didn’t recognize — might be new? — but slammed home their sonic tonnage as though it was a thing to be directly hammered into the assembled skulls before them and headbanged with true doomly fuckall abandon. I hadn’t seen a band be heavy like that all day, so Tombstones were more than welcome, and the savage heft likewise. They were an act I was very, very glad to have seen at Roadburn.
Coming out of their set, I felt I had a better understanding of what they were about. Not that the album didn’t paint a coherent picture, but to actually see Tombstones made me better appreciate the intensity of their approach. “Intensity” would prove an operative word back in the main hall as well, with Enslaved getting ready to go on. Drummer Cato Bekkevold — buried, as ever, behind his kit — and keyboardist/vocalist Herbrand Larsen had already had their gear positioned in the back row, the highest of Wardruna‘s tiers, in anticipation of the Skuggsjá set still to come, but this was a special gig as well. Dubbed “House of Northern Gods,” it found Bjørnson, Kjellson and Isdal down front of the stage, leading the way through a setlist spanning all the way back to 1993’s Hordanes Land EP, with “Allf?ðr Oðinn” one of the several cuts chosen to represent Norse deities or their archetypes as the band tore through their discography with spoken samples between each song, and runes appearing and disappearing behind them on the Main Stage projection screen along with animations by the artist Costin Chioreanu.
No doubt there were many in attendance who’ve seen Enslaved more than I have, but I’ve seen Enslaved six or seven times by now — including at Roadburn — and this was hands-down the best show I’ve ever watched them give. Also the best setlist. For how tight they were, for the fact that after opening with “Frøyas Smykke” from 2000’s Mardraum (Beyond the Within), they launched into “Fusion of Sense and Earth” from 2006’s Ruun. Kjellson‘s rasp was in top form, and all five of them were raging full-on. It was, yes, intense, and it only became more so as “Fenris” from 1994’s Frost led into the more chorus-centered “The Watcher,” the closer from 2008’s Vertebrae, a one-two that brought to mind not only Enslaved‘s intended focus on Norse mythology for the set, but the progression they’ve undertaken in their 24 years together. For his part, Larsen now sounds better live singing the clean parts on a song like “The Watcher” or “Path to Vanir,” which followed, than he sounded in the studio when they were recorded, his confidence and prowess as a vocalist an ever-increasing factor in Enslaved‘s growth.
Put it this way: I saw Enslaved in New York about three weeks ago. Not only did I stay put for the entirety of their “House of Northern Gods” set, but I’m planning on watching them again tomorrow as well. They wrapped by bringing out an acoustic guitar for “Axioma,” which seemed intended to serve as a transition to Skuggsjá, though there was a changeover necessary and one of Selvik‘s stringed instruments had some technical trouble, so there was an added delay there too, the members of Enslaved and Wardruna both on stage at their appointed start time of 00.15, or thereabouts, but not actually getting going until after 00.30.
When they did start, Skuggsjá was both modern and deeply rooted. With Bjørnson and Selvik at the front of the stage, and a total of 11 people participating, they blended elements from both bands as well as some experimentalism and grand choruses into something beautiful and unique unto itself. I’m keeping my fingers crossed it gets released as a Live at Roadburn album, because it deserves it. To describe the bare parts doesn’t really do justice to what was happening on stage. It was a moving late-night performance that, knowing it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, I was glad to stick around and see.
With the second day down, there’s still plenty of Roadburn 2015 to come. More tomorrow, but until then, there are some more pics as well after the jump.
Some good Roadburn‘ll cure what ails you. Especially if what ails you — it’s what ails all of us, really — is the fact that the rest of your life isn’t Roadburn. Today was my busiest day, and it felt like it. A lot of back and forth. My dogs, such as they are, are barking. It was an early start and a late-enough finish, though it’s worth noting that the finish could’ve been even later. One has to find balance in these things. It’s a four-day fest. This was day one.
I sat on the backside of the photo-pit barrier before Sólstafir went on. They were opening the fest at 15.00, the same time Bell Witch were taking the stage at Het Patronaat — Roadburn means hard choices, always. I sat there, early, alone, tilted my head back and closed my eyes, took a breath in through my nose and let it out through my mouth. My last quiet moment, you see. I let it go, and a short time later, the Icelandic outfit took the stage, performing a live soundtrack to the 1984 film, also Icelandic, Hrafninn Flýgur (translated: When the Raven Flies). It would be my first time seeing them perform, and my first time seeing the movie, so I was probably at a significant disadvantage to some in the crowd, but essentially I was glad to be seeing the band at all, and knowing they’ve got a regular set scheduled for tomorrow, I went in with a pretty open mind. Whatever they were going to do, I was happy to be watching Sólstafir play. Not the most impartial of attitudes, but I dig the band.
Interestingly, a lot of what they did to accompany the movie, was rework their material as instrumental or atmospheric rock. Parts from last year’s Ótta (review here), the back end of the title-track — a landmark for the album if there ever was one — was distinct as the film went on, subtitles in English at the bottom of the big screen behind the band, who were spread out in a manner almost orchestral on the Main Stage. Maybe not surprising, but their sound fit pretty well with images of revenge-seeking Viking-types on horseback, distant mountains, stone weapons and the like. I’m still not entirely sure what was going on, but even to catch Sólstafir playing parts of their songs, I was glad to see it, and it made me look forward to their regular set. They took a bow when they were done, after the credits had rolled, and it seemed like they earned it. Over in the Green Room — the middle-size space, smaller than the 013‘s Main Stage or Het Patronaat, bigger than 013‘s Stage01 or the back of Cul de Sac where the stage is (got all that?) — Salem’s Pot were setting up for a buffet of riffs soon to unfold.
Swing, swing, swing. Swing like madmen, and they dressed the part too, all in masks, one in a dress and fishnets, like a troop of droogs gone stoner cult. The Swedish five-piece released their …Lurar ut dig på prärien debut LP (discussed here) last year on RidingEasy Records, and they had a new song for the Roadburn crowd as well as stuff from the album, which was more than solid in that heavy but kind of familiar way, but took on a different character live. Even apart from the theatrics, I guess so much on …Lurar ut dig på prärien was down to the rhythm, but on stage, the songs had different off-kilter melodies in the guitars, the dual vocals worked more dynamically, and the synth and effects swirl was a major factor in how it all came together. “Creep Purple” and “Nothing Hill” were rolling-groove highlights, and the shorter “Ego Trip,” released as the A-side of a 7″ last fall, was right on as well. I hate to think I had dismissed them, but in presence and performance, Salem’s Pot exceeded my expectations and not only had swing, swing, swing working in their favor, but a more complex approach overall than I saw coming.
A pleasant surprise, then, even though I kind of knew what they’d get up to. In the next room, the Main Stage was being set up for Floor. Now, I’ve seen Floor a few times at this point, and even since they put out their long-awaited studio comebacker Oblation (review here) about a year ago, and my general rule for Roadburn is that the bands I’ve already seen get low priority. Lower, anyway. The difference with Floor was that I’d been hearing all along about how excited people were to see them. I’m not 100 percent, but I think that until this tour, the trio of guitarist Anthony Vialon, drummer Henry Wilson (also of House of Lightning) and guitarist/vocalist Steve Brooks (also of Torche) had yet to play Europe since getting back together half a decade ago. That would make them, if nothing else, due.
The bomb-toners lived up to what one might’ve hoped for on the big stage. As it will, their 2002 self-titled featured prominently in the set, starting off with the one-two-three of “Scimitar,” “Return to Zero” and “Downed Star,” Brooks and Vialon pushing out now-classic riffs as Wilson seemed to drum with his whole body behind the kit. The guitarists kept a more quiet presence, Brooks here and there on stage, moving with the music but hardly thrashing about, and Vialon more or less still in a zen-through-volume kind of fashion, but the thrust of those songs is undeniable, and as they moved into “Dove” and “Night Full of Kicks” and Oblation cuts like “Trick Scene” and “Find Away” and “The Key,” they kept their momentum, fast or lumbering. “Tales of Lolita” is always a good time, and it worked well next to the thudding “The Quill,” and closing duo “Loanin'” and “Triangle Song” wrapped up to ensure that no bases were left uncovered. They weren’t, and yeah, I’ve seen Floor before, but there was no question doing so again was the right choice.
That said, there was no way in hell I was missing Spidergawd. Largely unknown in the States, and I think known mostly to those in Europe who’ve heard their two Stickman/Crispin Glover Records LPs to date — 2014’s Spidergawd (review here) and 2015’s Spidergawd II (review here) — because of their affiliation with Norwegian prog magnates Motorpsycho, whose bassist, BentSæther,and drummer, Kenneth Kapstad, double in the more boogie-oriented outfit alongside saxophonist/vocalist Rolf Martin Snustad and guitarist/vocalist Per Borten, who is related to but not to be confused with a former Norwegian prime minister of the same name. Spidergawd were a must-see for me. One of several, but a must-see all the same, and they delivered all the way in the energy and upbeat feel of their songs. By the time they got down to “Fixin’ to Die Blues” from the new record, maybe three songs in, they had Het Patronaat eating out of their hands.
And rightly so. I saw a lot of music today and I’ll see a lot more before this weekend’s out, but I don’t know if anyone will give off a genuinely-happy-to-be-here vibe as much as Spidergawd did, still managing to both groove and be heavy while enjoying themselves. Their spirit was infectious, as are their hooks, and though it was hot in the church — damn hot — they had no letup, Snustad, Kapstad and Borten up front on the stage while Sæther played behind in a curious configuration, but one that obviously works for them. They’re a band more people should know, based solely on the merit of what they play and how they play it, never mind anyone’s pedigree or anything like that. They lit that room up, closing with the Thin Lizzy-style “Sanctuary” from Spidergawd II as if to portend even better things to come. They’ve been working quickly over the course of their first two records, and hopefully it’s not long before a third surfaces as well. The more the merrier.
I stopped by to see some of Primitive Man through the door of the Green Room before they finished. Unsurprisingly they were punishing as fuck. Floor had started something of a bang-bang-bang for the rest of my night, one to the next to the next, and I had planned on catching a bit of Uzala in the Green Room and moving on to the next set, but once they went on, the Boise, Idaho, three-piece held me in place. I didn’t know it at the time, but they were just what I was looking for. Guitarist Chad Remains, guitarist Darcy Nutt (also running her guitar through a bass rig, for extra low-end) and drummer Chuck Watkins had a new song in tow called “The Gallows,” and that moved a little faster than some of their more plodding material from 2014’s righteous Tales of Blood and Fire, songs like “Dark Days” and “Seven Veils,” but wherever they headed, they were just the right blend of beat-you-over-the-head heaviness in Remains and Nutt‘s tones, melody and lurching groove that I couldn’t have left even if I’d wanted to. They were not to be missed, in other words. Vocals were a little low, at least up front where I was standing, but Nutt has a powerful voice and as dense as those tones got — seriously, there were parts where they sounded like a machine grinding to a halt; I wondered how they’d restart it for the next measure — she cut through with little trouble and palpable soul.
Their set was a highlight of the day for me, all the more because I’d seen them before, knew what I was getting into and they still managed to surprise with how switched on they were. Remains shredded his solos in top form and had some technical trouble along the way that was fixed so promptly by the Green Room crew that I’m not even sure he noticed. Only complaint? No “Tenement of the Lost.” The closer from Tales of Blood and Fire that begins with a wash of feedback and culminates in one of the sweetest minimalist doom ballads my ears have heard in the last five years — it’s my go-to sad song — would’ve certainly been welcome, but honestly, I think the maximum-volume approach they took was probably a more practical call given the room. I could’ve gone to see Russian Circles on the Main Stage, or Thou at Het Patronaat, or Moaning Cities, whose merch I later looked for and could not find, in Stage01, but Uzala kept me where I was. They were a thrill to watch.
Somewhere in there, it would’ve made sense to have dinner. I did not. No time. Wovenhand would be on the Main Stage shortly, and I knew that was where I wanted to be. It was a return appearance for them and the second time I’d have seen them at Roadburn — never seen them anywhere else, come to think of it — but as I consider the set they played in 2011 a personal landmark, as in, “before I saw it” and “after I saw it,” I’d been very much anticipating their arrival. They were headliners this time along with Eyehategod, who’d play the Main Stage afterwards, but Wovenhand had the longer set, and put their 80 minutes to use in the most dynamic manner I saw all day, frontman David Eugene Edwards far to the left side of the stage while drummer Ordy Garrison had the middle, and guitarist/backing vocalist Chuck French and bassist Neil Keener anchored the right. Edwards is among the more charismatic stage presences I’ve ever seen, and though he said before they ended that they knew they were “out of their league” in coming back to Roadburn, I felt more like I was out of mine watching them.
Last year’s Refractory Obdurate (review here) featured prominently in their set, which opened with “Hiss,” arguably their heaviest work to-date. Ultimately, it would be a much different kind of intensity they brought than four years ago, when Edwards, seated, laid bare a deeply spiritual — religious, Christian — neo-folk, worldly in its arrangements and deeper than the eye could follow. Standing, the vocalist/guitarist still had a feather in his hat and still taunted or teased the audience in a kind of war-whoop, but he also softshoed while he played, and Wovenhand this time around was a much more stripped-down, rawer, meaner-toned outfit. Garrison‘s drums, aided now and then by some extra percussion by French, were a driving force, and the seething energy of their rhythm could be felt throughout the main hall, whether they happened to be raging at the time, as in “Hiss,” or engaged in a more quiet brooding, à la “Closer” from 2012’s The Laughing Stalk (review here). Opener “Long Horn” from that album was also a highlight, and I was amazed what a few years could do for band like that progressing in unexpected ways and pursuing different avenues of sound. “Good Shepherd” lacked nothing for its melody, but even that had a coinciding element of pummel.
It was to the point where, I knew I wanted to see Monolord. I’d wanted to see Monolord all along, and they were playing Het Patronaat at the same time Wovenhand were on the Main Stage — Roadburn giveth and Roadburn scheduleth conflicteth. I left Wovenhand and went down the block to the other venue just as Monolord were going on. How heavy were they? They were superlatively heavy. A monumental sonic impact that seemed to hit all at once, as though the guitar and bass were also kick drums. It was ridiculous, and the line outside the Patronaat was backed up the longest I’d seen it yet to get in, but as I stood there and watched them, I couldn’t take the fact that Wovenhand were playing Roadburn and I wasn’t in the same room where it was happening. Monolord slayed the place, absolutely. I saw people coming out of there when they were done and they looked even more in a daze than usual. But me, I had to back and watch Wovenhand finish. They were too good to let it pass. And when they were done, they came back out and did an encore. Fucking a.
My evening was more or less done and I knew it, but when Wovenhand finished their encore, I swung back to Het Patronaat to watch some of Kandodo, who are led by guitarist Simon Price of The Heads and were doing a special set with Robert Hampson of Loop sitting in as part of The Heads‘ residency. I didn’t know what that collaboration might bring, but it brought a fervent run of heavy psychedelia that was perfect for me to close out the night. They started in the dark, Price and Hampson on guitar on opposite sides of the stage, bassist Hugo Morgan (also The Heads) and drummer Wayne Maskell (also also The Heads) between, but the lights gradually came up as they jammed their way through a first song — read as “Kandy Rock” on the setlist — and into the next. Watching them made me want to buy many albums, I’ll say that, but time was getting on and I had a review to write, so I cut out after a bit and made my way back to the hotel. It was a mindbender of a first day, but I know there is still much more to come over this weekend.
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 6th, 2015 by JJ Koczan
A few more dates added to Icelandic genre-spanners Sólstafir‘s previously-announced North American tour with Ancient VVisdom. The Reykjavik four-piece, who also play two sets at Roadburn this week and who will appear at Wave Gotik Treffen and a host of other European fests over the course of the next several months, head out once more in support of 2014’s stunner full-length, Ótta (review here), which is a cause as worthy of support as any I can think of. And yeah, the place I live gets the shaft this time around, but it’s hardly the first time and hardly anything to hold against the band. So dig the tour dates off the PR wire and catch these dudes where and when you can.
The time is now:
SOLSTAFIR announce new North American tour dates
Enigmatic Icelandic rock band SOLSTAFIR have added new dates to their previously announced North American tour. The band are touring across the US and Canada, adding shows to Elko NV, Portland OR, and Mesa, AZ. A full list of confirmed tour dates can be found below.
SÓLSTAFIR are different. Their unique blend of metal with beautiful melodies, psychedelic moments and a strong undercurrent of classic / hard rock comes as varied and at times appealingly bizarre as the landscapes of their native Iceland. Their fifth full-length “Ótta” is the logical continuation of the musical course this four-piece adopted on the highly acclaimed forerunner “Svartir Sandar” (2011). Expect the unexpected, such as seduction by subtle strings or a hypnotic banjo. None of this was apparent when SÓLSTAFIR released their album debut “Í Blóði og Anda”, which translates as ‘In Blood and Spirit’ in 2002. Instead of today’s Icelandic gravel throated siren chants, frontman Aðalbjörn Tryggvason spit forth vitriolic crust-like vocals and the ripping guitars were clearly black metal inspired.
Yet the band was as clearly identifiable back then as now and along their way with the next albums “Masterpiece of Bitterness” (2005) and “Köld” (2009) introducing new elements in a continuous evolution. SÓLSTAFIR’s music is as much the product of Arctic blizzards as of red hot volcanic magma, erupting geysers, lush green pastures, and salty waves. With “Ótta” the Icelanders touch something ancient and timeless, while defying easy categorisation. This album needs to be heard again and again to peel back layers of details, each different and yet always revealing the same: great songs – all of them.
The song titles of “Ótta” form a concept based on an old Icelandic system of time keeping similar to the monastic hours called “Eykt” (“eight”). The 24 hour day was divided into 8 parts of 3 hours each. The album starts at midnight, the beginning of “Lágnætti” (“low night”), continues through each Eyktir of the day and ends with “Náttmál” (“nighttime”) from 21:00 to 0:00. This form of time keeping is more open than the relentless ticking of modern times, where each second is made to count, which turns humanity into cocks of the corporate clockwork. Now SÓLSTAFIR give you the antidote. Just lean back, close your eyes, take your time and lose yourself in this masterpiece called “Ótta”!
SOLSTAFIR North American tour dates: 04/22 Brooklyn, NY @ The Shop 04/23 Montreal, QC @ L’ail’ze 04/24 Ottawa, ON @ Mavericks 04/25 Toronto, ON @ Garrison 04/26 Rochester, NY @ Bug Jar 04/27 Pittsburgh, PA @ 31st St Pub 04/28 Columbus, OH @ Ace Of Cups 04/29 Grand Rapids, MI @ Pyramid Scheme 05/01 Minneapolis, MN @ Nether Bar 05/03 Chicago, IL @ Reggies 05/04 Kansas City, MO @ Riot Room 05/05 Denver, CO @ Lost Lake Lounge 05/06 Salt Lake City, UT @ Bar Deluxe 5/07 Elko, NV @ Club Silver Dollar 05/08 Spokane, WA @ The Pin 05/09 Vancouver, BC @ The Astoria 05/10 Seattle, WA @ El Corazon 05/11 Portland OR @ Star Theater 05/12 San Francisco, CA @ Oakland Opera 05/13 Los Angeles, CA @ Los Globos 05/14 Mesa, AZ @ Club Red 05/15 Albuquerque, NM @ Sister Bar 05/15 Fort Worth, TX @ Sons Of Hermann Hall 05/17 Austin, TX @ Red 7 05/18 New Orleans, LA @ One Eyed Jacks 05/19 Atlanta, GA @ The Earl 05/20 Richmond, VA @ Strange Matter
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 9th, 2015 by JJ Koczan
Great news that Iceland’s Sólstafir are returning to North America this Spring for a coast-to-coast tour. I mean, it’s not great news if you live in the often-shafted vicinity of Boston, which I do, but so it goes. I’d even have been stoked to have them come as far north as Providence, but alas, no dice. If you didn’t hear it, last year’s Ótta album (review here) was a gem, and probably worth traveling for, or, if you’re lucky enough, catching them at Roadburn. They’ll be joined on this run by Ancient Wisdom.
The PR wire something something blah blah blah god damn Massachusetts bites:
SOLSTAFIR announce North American tour
Enigmatic Icelandic rock band SOLSTAFIR have announced a headlining North American tour. The month-long tour kicks on April 22, and a full list of confirmed tour dates can be found below. SOLSTAFIR are touring in support of their critically-acclaimed new album, ‘Otta’.
SOLSTAFIR are also streaming their recent KEXP radio in-studio session here. The session sees the band performing material from their new album ‘Otta’, and was recorded during their previous US tour. SOLSTAFIR recently appeared on Icelandic national television’s Studio A program, performing two songs off ‘Otta’. Footage of the band playing Dagmál (at the 12:23 mark) and Rismál (at 32:40) can be found at the official Icelandic National Television’s Studio A website.
SOLSTAFIR 2015 North American tour 4/22 BROOKLYN, NY @ THE SHOP 4/23 MONTREAL, QC @ L’AIL’ZE 4/24 OTTAWA, ON @ MAVERICKS 4/25 TORONTO, ON @ GARRISON 4/26 ROCHESTER. NY @ BUG JAR 4/27 PITTSBURGH, PA @ 31st ST PUB 4/28 COLUMBUS, OH @ ACE OF CUPS 4/29 GRAND RAPIDS, MI @ PYRAMID SCHEME 4/30 MILWAUKEE, WI @ TBD 5/1 MINNEAPOLIS, MN @ NETHER BAR 5/3 CHICAGO, IL @ REGGIES 5/4/ KANSAS CITY, MO @ RIOT ROOM 5/5 DENVER, CO @ LARIMER 5/6 SALT LAKE CITY, UT @ BAR DELUXE 5/8 SPOKANE, WA @ THE PIN 5/9 VANCOUVER BC @ RICKSHAW 5/10 SEATTLE, WA @ EL CORAZON 5/12 SAN FRANCISCO, CA @ OAKLAND OPERA 5/13 LOS ANGELES, CA @ LOS GLOBOS 5/14 SCOTTSDALE, AZ @ PUB ROCK LIVE 5/15 ALBUQUERQUE, NM @ SISTER 5/16 FORT WORTH, TX @ SONS OF HERMANN 5/17 AUSTIN, TX @ RED 7 5/18 NEW ORLEANS, LA @ ONE EYED JACKS 5/20 RICHMOND, VA @ STRANGE MATTER
Posted in Buried Treasure on February 26th, 2015 by JJ Koczan
FEB. 26: It is fucking snowing again. This morning, I came downstairs and opened the blinds and no light came in, just that oozing gray that has passed for daytime for most of the last several months in Massachusetts. Yesterday there was blue sky, and I could’ve danced. The days are getting longer, I keep telling myself and The Patient Mrs., looking at the math and almost believing it. We had a little melt this past weekend, so the lowest points of snow are down to about three feet. Piles where the plows have been, in parking lots and places like that, are over 10 feet tall. Some of them look like houses.
They say this isn’t going to accumulate much, but it doesn’t even matter anymore. Snow’s just an excuse to stay inside out of the cold. Another foot. Who cares? I must have been feeling particularly hopeful last night when I took my copy of Sólstafir‘s Ótta upstairs last night to put it on the shelf. The album, which the Icelandic band released last year on Season of Mist, has been an integral soundtrack for this winter to the point where I got so bothered at not having a physical copy of it that I ordered the CD during one of our several blizzards. Yes, deliveries still come, even though from what I hear the trains don’t run anymore.
I had caught wind of Ótta last year, via the usual too-easily-ignored digital promo, and the Reykjavík outfit received heaps of praise around its release, all duly earned. Their fifth full-length, the eight tracks of Ótta make for an hour-long masterpiece of melancholic heft. The lyrics are in Icelandic, but the melody transcends language barriers, and whether it’s the surge near the end of the title-track, which makes for one of the most particularly memorable standout moments, the understated drums of Guðmundur Óli Pálmason grounding the string sounds and keys as vocalist/guitarist Aðalbjörn Tryggvason‘s croons become shouts, or the more frenetic vibe of “Miðdegi,” with Tryggvason‘s and Sæþór Maríus Sæþórsson‘s guitars interweaving over a tense bassline from Svavar Austman, the atmosphere remains pervasive. This is true as well as they push through the quiet lushness of the penultimate “Miðaftann.” Just because I’d make a fool out of myself if I tried to pronounce any of it doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful.
The ebow to organ shift in 11-minute closer “Náttmál” and the waves of blastbeats that accompany the apex are something special, but for much of Ótta, it’s the softer stretches that create the ambience. Piano and subdued vocals start opener “Lágnætti,” which picks up soon enough but holds firm to a contemplative impression, and the wide spaces crafted by “Rismál” seem to bring to life the unceasing bitterness of winter’s cold. They don’t shout about it. It’s a kind of resignation, to which the subsequent “Dagmál” and “Miðdegi” add further emotional and sonic depth, Sólstafir holding onto a heaviness in sound but making an even more resonant impression with the album’s spiritual weight. To me, it just sounds like this interminable season, and I know that in years to come, that’s how I’ll identify it. Already it has proved a haunting presence.
So much so, that when the snow started to fall this afternoon, I had no choice but to go back upstairs and retrieve the Ótta CD, put it on and make my way toward and through the desperate thrust of “Nón” again. I’m sure it won’t be the last time before the snow melts. Yes, it’s brilliant and progressive and all that other shit “critics” say when they like something, but mostly, I’m glad to have the bit of comfort Sólstafir offer.
