Posted in Whathaveyou on May 29th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Maybe Polar Veil will be the moment where Hexvessel and principal songwriter Mat McNerney tie it all (or at least mostly) together. 2019’s All Tree (review here) and 2020’s Kindred stepped back into forest folk atmospheres after 2016’s When We Are Death (review here) blew the doors off what had been their established modus, McNerney by then having already begun a journey through side-projects like Beastmilk and Grave Pleasures, all three bands (and a swath of other influences) seeming to intermingle over the longer term as regards style. I get post-black metal vibes off Polar Veil‘s first single “Older Than the Gods,” with the wash of pretty but stark electric guitar at the forefront and the melodic vocals that accompany, but that’s a pretty superficial classification on my part and most of all it sounds like Hexvessel.
And at least for myself, I seem to enjoy this band most when they’re screwing with their own norms a bit. I wouldn’t expect one track ever to speak for the entirety of a Hexvessel LP, but if it’s representative even on a basic tonal level of the sphere they’re working in this time out, well, maybe the norms are getting what for.
From the PR wire:
Forest Folk Rockers HEXVESSEL Announce New Album, ‘POLAR VEIL’, Out September 22nd
Share New Single “Older Than the Gods” + Music Video
Finland’s HEXVESSEL return with their sixth album, ‘Polar Veil’, a cold, metallic hymn to the Sub Arctic North. Haunted by primal forest spirits, Mat “Kvohst” McNerney summons the ghosts of his past in a jaw-dropping, unheard-of rebirth of style and sound. At once unmistakably HEXVESSEL, ‘Polar Veil’ is also steeped in the nocturnal atmosphere of McNerney’s past, churned in the cauldron of black metal, ritual folk psychedelia and doom rock, and echoing with shivering gothic undertones.
From their inception in 2009, HEXVESSEL, created by Mat McNerney as what he described as “a free spiritual journey and a musical odyssey with no boundaries”, have captivated audiences and listeners with their evolution.
Holed up in a home-made studio in his log cabin during the winter of 2022, McNerney drew on all the fundamental elements of his music career as a shamanic shapeshifter, with only the isolation of nature’s solitude as inspiration. Painting an aura with ‘Polar Veil’ which resonates with solitary reflection and themes of personal spiritual transcendence, HEXVESSEL’s new album is a bold statement from an artist who continues to reinvent and explore nature mysticism through music.
When the components of the medicine are familiar but brewed in a completely novel concoction, the resulting side effects can be deliriously intoxicating. Peer behind this ‘Polar Veil’ for a breath of fresh tundra air with HEXVESSEL’s new single “Older Than The Gods” now.
“Nature represents freedom, darkness and the call of the wild. Black metal has always been at the borders of my sound and playing, at the heart of everything I do. Tradition, nature, ritual, mythology, mysticism and philosophy, along with clashing and jarring chords have always been synonymous with HEXVESSEL. It was natural with ‘Polar Veil’, finally now as we reach the zenith of the journey, that these influences surface to the human ear, and with the freezing cold guitar sound that the climate here demands.”
A track such as “Crepuscular Creatures”, with unhinged, discordant guitar chords, as bassist Ville Hakonen’s hand snakes up and down the frets, is at the more avant-garde end of the album. Long term drummer Jukka Rämänen thundering the toms like never before, as McNerney croons Scott Walker-esque lyrics, somewhere between Edith Södergran and Ted Hughes.
Whereas “Listen To The River” with its ominous M.R James/Folk Horror lyrics of perilous environmental warning, featuring Ben Chisholm main collaborator and multi-instrumentalist with Chelsea Wolfe on lush, haunting keys and strings, could have appeared on HEXVESSEL’s sophomore album ‘No Holier Temple’, albeit with a sound of that era, progressing out of folk.
‘Polar Veil’ features Nameless Void from Negative Plane, performing the guitar solo on the song “Ring” and on “Older Than The Gods”, Okoi from Bølzer provides guest vocals. At first an unlikely partnership but one that makes total sense as the album deepens, and threads can be drawn that reveal the place ‘Polar Veil’ is coming from.
On the process of recording ‘Polar Veil’, McNerney explains:
“I built a studio at home in the log hut on our field, surrounded by large trees, called Pine Hill, to escape from everything and everyone. ‘Polar Veil’ is what a spiritual home sounds like.”
Posted in Reviews on February 7th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The immediate implication of Chrysalis, the second full-length from Tampere, Finland, progressive space resonators Polymoon, is metamorphosis. Major change. Progression. One thing growing into another, and perhaps, having unveiled their debut in 2020’s Caterpillars of Creation (review here), the band are talking about themselves somewhat, setting themselves in a position of being something malleable, able to grow and assume a different form than they had in a more ‘larval’ stage.
Issued through Robotor Records — the label headed by Berlin heavy rock magnates Kadavar, whose drummer Tiger Bartelt produced and mixed Polymoon at Kadavar Studio; Janne Hakanen mastered — Chrysalis comprises six songs and stretches vast distances across 44 minutes of cosmic bursts, galloping, twisting proggy thrust and a psychedelia that, while heavy in its underpinnings and accessible through melody and the bright, sometimes blinding timbre of the guitar and synth, is nonetheless flying from the moment opener “Crown of the Universe” sweeps in on a lead guitar hook from its initial two-and-a-half-minute quiet intro of synth, guitar and vocals, with precious little letup in its push from there. It’s not until side A closer “Instar,” really, two songs later, that the tension that begins in “Crown of the Universe” is released. And that is not the last time that happens.
Polymoon leave no doubt this is on purpose, and among Chrysalis‘ great triumphs is that the returning five-piece of vocalist/synthesist Kalle-Erik Kosonen, guitarists Jesse Jaksola and Otto Kontio, bassist Juuso Valli and drummer Tuomas Heikura never lose control — and their own growth as a band is writ large across the album as one of its major themes. As alluded above, they have become another thing. They have moved forward. It’s everywhere on Chrysalis. Atmospheric as they are, Kosonen‘s vocals are both higher in the mix generally and more confident in their delivery.
This is shown quickly in “Crown of the Universe” as well, which once it kicks in sees the band rocketlaunching Songs for the Deaf-desert sprint with the lyrics urging a kind of personal/galaxial rebirth, some falsetto included from Kosonen along with guest Moog from Finnish synth-wizard Esa Kotilainen (Wigwam, Tasavallan Presidentti, etc.). Accordingly, Heikura‘s drumming would be manic in its shove behind the two guitars and bass were it not so masterfully executed, lending urgency and immediacy to “Crown of the Universe” and the subsequent, even shinier “Wave Back to Confusion” early on before the glorious nine-minute “Instar” pauses at its outset, works itself into a frenzy, and, just when you think your head is about to explode because even the quiet part is interweaving angular lines of guitar, after seven minutes in, the band finally lets it go and supernova-blasts into a rolling movement slowdown, guitar solo pulled out over interstellar plod to serve as the apex for the album’s first half. Like much of Chrysalis, it is lush and gorgeous and the band know it and built it that way on purpose.
The linear quality of the three songs working together — not linear in terms of a build within the first two tracks, necessarily, though neither wants for “get loud” at its finish — pushing and carrying the listener toward that crescendo in “Instar” is further argument for Polymoon‘s evolution as being part of the story the album is telling, and in all the tumult of their conveyance, one finds especially on repeat listens a kind of overarching pulse of life to follow in and between the songs, everything feeling connected whether it’s a synthy intro to “Instar” or the consuming swirl of “Wave Back to Confusion” just before.
And the material on side B: the outright party that is “Set the Sun”; “A Day in the Air,” which picks up from its doomed intro for a full-speed tear that’s reminiscent of nothing so much as latter-day Enslaved (and every bit worthy of the compliment in that comparison); and the corresponding nine-minute Floyd-referencing capstone “Viper at the Gates of Dawn,” is likewise communicative. Continuing on with the next stage from “Instar” — because it’s a whole-album narrative and not just something that applies to one side and then the other –the album genuinely becomes a tale of becoming, and as much for the band as anything else. It is united by Polymoon‘s apparent ability to dizzy their audience without losing their own balance in either the writing or performance, which is something that Caterpillars of Creation hinted toward but was more focused on lumber where Chrysalis genuinely seems to be breaking free of containment and running (or flying, if we’re keeping to the metaphor) loose. But “loose” doesn’t mean sloppy, just unencumbered.
They convey this while the individual members simultaneously put on a clinic in their respective crafts, whether it’s the classy fluidity with which Kontio and Jaksola interact on guitar and the attention to detail of their work there, the nuance of that interplay — not to mention whatever the hell is happening with the solos at the start of “A Day in the Air,” or Valli saving some but by no means all of the tastiest basslines for “Viper at the Gates of Dawn,” or Heikura‘s stunning performance throughout, the drums challenging every other instrument to keep up, which is a game that, thankfully, the band as a whole is prepared to play.
Together with Kosonen‘s noted progression on vocals and the abiding melody of the keys, the delicate manner in which atmospheres are concocted, the sheer wash they create at times, Polymoon are able to affect a run like that in “A Day in the Air,” building dreamily with delightful, playful misdirection toward a huge, encompassing doomly stride that’s outright heavier than they’ve been on record to-date. They rightly ride that groove to the end of the song and crash it out — you’ll note it wasn’t until track three on side A that they hit the slowdown; they’re changing up structure and how the songs function on their sides, again adding to the richness of the overall listening experience — ahead of the snare-to-start non-intro to “Viper at the Gates of Dawn,” which is soon ringing out petals of lead guitar through deceptively grounded verses in rushing-but-unrushed antimatter-fueled krautmetal fashion.
“Viper at the Gates of Dawn” summarizes well the strengths to be found throughout Chrysalis, including the flow that brings it methodically to its heavier push, echoing vocals after the two-minute mark as Kosonen recalls the falsetto he unveiled in “Crown of the Universe” and uses it in such a way as to set up a self-call-and-response before gliding over the subsequent verse. Oh, and then they start to mean business. Guitar surges forward as the vocals fade back, the solo lining up with the rhythm line, moving around it, drums and bass running alongside. The vocals come back before six minutes in, joining the build for a last chorus, a note held like they didn’t want to let it go, and then the quiet drift that might be flight moves further and further out, peaceful as it goes, offers one last moment of grace to appreciate on a record that’s already given much in that regard.
Of course, they’ve set themselves up for the third installment in the trilogy. The caterpillar crawled. The chrysalis brought change. The butterfly would seem to be the next logical step. Or maybe this story is done. I don’t know, and while speculation is fun, that’s all it is. If this an ending or a beginning — a bit of both — it is the accomplishments throughout Chrysalis in realizing an evolved vision of what Polymoon‘s debut was that are most striking, whatever potential there may also be for the band to take it a step further still. This is the kind of album that’s able to take notions and tropes of genre to places they do not often go, and to meld stylistic elements that in less capable hands would be too disparate to connect. And to do it with class, and distinction, and passion. Beautiful.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 25th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Polymoon smack of brilliance. Like, right upside your head. The Finnish not-upstart-for-much-longer prog-psych troupe have unveiled their video for “Set the Sun,” the second single from their upcoming sophomore long-player, Chrysalis, and it’s a beautiful bit of aural wash krautmetal, feverish in its affect but controlled in terms of performance even as it pushes toward its dramatic apex, conveying the sense of transition happening across the record in a surge of volume that, well, whatever space you can give it, give it and know that by the time the near-seven minutes are up, you won’t regret having done so.
Chrysalis is out Feb. 17. I’ve booked out Feb. 7 to review it and no, I don’t think there’s going to be a premiere with that or anything, but it’s a deep record and I want to try to give it its due anyhow, since it’s very clear to me in listening that a lot of love went into making it. I think you can hear some of that in “Set the Sun,” about which you can read more in the blue text off the PR wire, and for which you can find the video at the bottom of this post. Note that Marco Menestrina of Kaleidobolt helped make it. Figures Polymoon and Kaleidobolt would be buds. I’m sure there’s a ‘New Wave of…’ joke to be made there, but frankly even those two groups are too distinct to really be part of a wave. I’m just glad they exist.
Take a step into the unknown and dive into the second single from Polymoon’s highly anticipated sophomore album “Chrysalis”. “Set The Sun” takes a heavier turn both sonically and visually and spirals into the world of figure skating.
The second appetizer from Polymoon’s sophomore album “Chrysalis” will be available in visual form this Friday. The second single “Set The Sun” will be available on all streaming platforms on the 20th of January. “Chrysalis” will be released by Berlin-based and Kadavar driven label Robotor Records on the 17th of February, 2023.
“Set The Sun” is the second single from the forthcoming album “Chrysalis” and is accompanied by a music video directed, filmed and edited by Polymoon members Kalle-Erik Kosonen, Jesse Jaksola and Marco Menestrina. In the music video, Polymoon guitarist Jesse Jaksola wanders around an eerie wintery forest on a bicycle before seeing his life flash before his eyes. However, the ephemeral vision takes him to a whole another world. Check it out below.
“‘In this song, the second phase of metamorphosis has begun and the golden chrysalis starts to form around the character. The song is a depiction of depression and closing into the shell. There is a party for one in a golden room inside one’s mind.
Set The Sun is musically the heaviest song of the album. It goes hand in hand with the lyrics, from sanity to insanity. It is dark and majestic. You’ll find yourself singing the lyrics with a smile on your face and you have no idea why. We wanted to create a beautiful and dreamy music video that has contrast to the heaviness of the song.
The progressive and heavy rock genre we represent has maintained a rather traditional and one-dimensional image of what kind of art and for what kind of audience is made within the genre. Through our visual expression, we want to break the structures of a genre perceived as strongly masculine and with our own contribution make the scene safe and easily approachable for all listeners.”
“Chrysalis” – out February 17 – follows Polymoon’s critically acclaimed debut album “Caterpillars Of Creation” that was released in 2020. The new album is set to be released while the band is on tour, performing alongside the Finnish psychedelic rock group Death Hawks with announced dates in early 2023.
POLYMOON is: Tuomas Heikura / Drums Jesse Jaksola / Guitar Otto Kontio / Guitar Kalle-Erik Kosonen / Vocals, Synthesizer Juuso Valli / Bass
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 30th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The video at the bottom of this post for the new Polymoon single “Wave Back to Confusion” — because surely confusion is waving at us — carries with it the first audio from the band’s upcoming second album, Chrysalis. To be released Feb. 17, 2023 — the future! — it is the follow-up to Caterpillars of Creation (review here), the Tampere, Finland, outfit’s wildly impressive debut full-length, and a record they seem intent on blowing out the airlock with the cosmic and progressive heavy rock on display throughout its progeny.
In five minutes, Polymoon assure of progressive intent and craft through the purposefulness with which they approach space rock, setting alight the psychedelia that defined the already-multifaceted Caterpillars of Creation with shimmering tonality and a gonna-just-spread-this-sound-out-all-over-right-here mindset that speaks to both their ongoing search for new ground and their mastery over the terrain they currently occupy. Feels needless to say, but I look forward to more.
February is a whole season away, but especially since Polymoon are touring in October, one somehow doubts this will be the last time they’re heard from before Chrysalis arrives as their first offering through Robotor Records.
Said label was kind enough to shoo this down the PR wire:
Polymoon – Chrysalis
Berlin-based label Robotor Records to release Polymoon’s first single Wave Back To Confusion on the Friday 30th of September.
The first appetizer from Polymoon’s sophomore album Chrysalis will soon be available in visual form. The first single from the forthcoming album called Wave Back To Confusion will be available on all platforms on the 30th of September. Chrysalis will be released by Robotor Records on the 17th of February, 2023.
Polymoon have since their inception strived to encapsulate their psychedelic vision into a concrete form, the first result of which was their critically acclaimed debut album Caterpillars of Creation released via Svart Records in the fall of 2020. Polymoon have since then honed their vision and signed a pact with Robotor Records. Polymoon’s second musical manifestation will be released through Robotor Records on the 17th of February, 2023.
“Wave Back To Confusion is a song about drowning and letting things go. Through purifying drowning, all vanities disappear and the purpose of life is revealed. Listen to the song and you will find yourself swimming among sparkling lakes made of stars and blissful nuclear explosions full of colors.”
Polymoon is a rock band from Tampere, Finland where it was formed in the autumn of 2018. Polymoon’s unique sound draws from various influences, including psychedelic rock, progressive rock and shoegaze. Since its formation, Polymoon has aimed to lift the listener to a higher level of existence through the aural combination of euphoria and melancholia. On their debut album, Polymoon strived to lure their listeners towards them, to join them behind their secretive veil.
But Polymoon is this formless entity no more. On their second album the clandestine curtains have been opened: embrace the second phase of Polymoon’s metamorphosis where everything is exposed and nothing is hidden anymore. The chrysalis is opening and the newly-formed wings are slowly unfolding. Old conventions have been blown to pieces and the shell is cracking. The rays of light are shining through more brightly than ever before. Be prepared to dance.
Upcoming Polymoon gigs: 30.9. Lost In Music Festival / G Livelab, Tampere 7.10. Lepakkomies, Helsinki 8.10. Vastavirta, Tampere 12.10. Schaubude, Kiel 13.10. Café Mukkes, Leeuwarden 14.10. TBA 15.10. De Onderbroek, Nijmegen 16.10. Desertfest Antwerp 18.10. C.Keller & Galerie Markt 21, Weimar 19.10. Zukunft Am Ostkreuz, Berlin 20.10. Warsztat, Kraków 21.10. Lemmy, Kaunas 22.10. Depo, Riika 23.10. Sveta Baar, Tallinna
POLYMOON is: Tuomas Heikura / Drums Jesse Jaksola / Guitar Otto Kontio / Guitar Kalle-Erik Kosonen / Vocals, Synthesizer Juuso Valli / Bass
Posted in Reviews on September 19th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Oh hello. I didn’t see you there. What, this? Oh, this is just me hanging out about to review 100 records in 10 days’ time. Yup, it’s another double-wide Quarterly Review, and I’m telling myself that no, this isn’t just how life is now, that two full weeks of 10 reviews per day isn’t business as usual, but there’s an exceptional amount of music out there right now, and no, this isn’t even close to all of it. But I’m doing my best to keep up and this is what that looks like.
The bottom line is the same as always and I’ll give it to you up front and waste no more time: I hope you enjoy the music here and find something to love.
So let’s go.
Quarterly Review #01-10:
Yatra, Born into Chaos
The partnership between Chesapeake extremists Yatra and producer Noel Mueller continues to bear fruit on the band’s fourth album and first for Prosthetic Records. Their descent from thick, nasty sludge into death metal is complete, and songs like “Terminate by the Sword” and “Terrorizer” have enough force behind them to become signature pieces. The trio of Dana Helmuth (guitar/vocals), Maria Geisbert (bass) and Sean Lafferty (drums, also Grave Bathers) have yet to sound so utterly ferocious, and as each of their offerings has pushed further into the tearing-flesh-like-paper and rot-stenched realms of metal, Born into Chaos brings the maddening intensity of “Wrath of the Warmaster” and the Incantation-worthy chug of closer “Tormentation,” with massive chug, twisting angularity and brain-melting blasts amid the unipolar throatripper screams from Helmuth (reminds at times of Grutle Kjellson from Enslaved), by now a familiar rasp that underscores the various violences taking place within the eight included tracks. I bet they get even meaner next time,. That’s just how Yatra do. But it’ll be a challenge.
Part of the fun of a new Sula Bassana release is not knowing what you’re going to get, and Nostalgia, which is built from material recorded between 2013-’18 and finished between 2019-’21, is full of surprises. The heavy space grunge of lead cut “Real Life,” which along with its side A companion “We Will Make It” actually features vocals from Dave “Sula Bassana” Schmidt himself (!), is the first here but not the last. That song beefs up early Radiohead drudgery, and “We Will Make It” is like what happens when space rock actually gets to space, dark in a way but expansive and gorgeous. Side B is instrumental, but the mellotron in “Nostalgia” — how could a track called “Nostalgia” not have mellotron? — goes a long way in terms of atmosphere, and the 10-minute “Wurmloch” puts its well-schooled krautrockism to use amid melodic drone before the one-man-jam turns into a freakout rager (again: !), and the outright beautiful finisher “Mellotraum” turns modern heavy post-rock on its head, stays cohesive despite all the noise and haze and underscores the mastery Schmidt has developed in his last two decades of aural exploration. One wonders to what this sonic turn might lead timed so close to his departure from Electric Moon and building a Sula live band, but either way, more of this, please. Please.
Continuing a streak of working with highly-respected imprints, Finland’s Garden of Worm release their third album, the eight-song/43-minute Endless Garden, through Nasoni Records after two prior LPs through Shadow Kingdom and Svart, respectively. There have been lineup changes since 2015’s Idle Stones (review here), but the band’s classically progressive aspects have never shone through more. The patient unfolding of “White Ship” alone is evidence for this, never mind everything else that surrounds, and though the earlier “Name of Lost Love” and the closer “In the Absence of Memory” nod to vintage doom and the nine-minute penultimate “Sleepy Trees” basks in a raw, mellow Floydian melody, the core of the Tampere outfit remains their unpredictability and the fact that you never quite know where you’re going until you’re there. Looking at you, “Autumn Song,” with that extended flute-or-what-ever-it-is intro before the multi-layered folk-doom vocal kicks in. For over a decade now, Garden of Worm have been a well kept secret, and honestly, that kind of works for the vibe they cast here; like you were walking through the forest and stumbled into another world. Good luck getting back.
Untethered by genre and as unorthodox as ever, Sevilla, Spain, weirdo doom heroes Orthodox return with Proceed after four years in the ether, and the output is duly dug into its own reality of ritualism born more of creation than horror-worship across the six included songs. “Arendrot” carries some shade from past dronings, and certainly the opener before it is oddball enough, with its angular riffing and later, Iberian-folk-derived solo, but there’s a straigter-forward aspect to Proceed as well, the vocals lending a character of noise rock and less outwardly experimentalist fare. “Rabid God” brings that forward with due intensity before the hi-hat-shimmy-meets-cave-lumber-doom “Starve” and the lurching/ambient doomjazz “The Son, the Sword, the Bread” set up the 10-minute closer “The Long Defeat,” which assures the discomforted that at least at some point when they were kids Orthodox listened to metal. Righteously individual, their work isn’t for everyone, and it’s by no means free of indulgence, but in 42 minutes, Orthodox once again stretch the limits of what doom means in a way that most bands wouldn’t dare even if they wanted to, and if you can’t respect that, then I’ve got nothing for you.
Fifty years from now, some brave archivalist soul is going to reissue the entire catalog of Lima, Peru’s Matus and blow minds far and wide. A follow-up to 2013’s Espejismos (review here), Espejismos II brings theremin-laced vintage Sabbath rock vibes across its early movements, going so far as to present “Umbral / Niebla de Neón” in mono, while the minute-and-a-half-long “Los Ojos de Vermargar (Early Version)” is pure fuzz and the organ-laced “Hada Morgana (Early Instrumental Mix)” — that and “Umbra; / Niebla de Neón” appeared in ‘finished versions on 2015’s Claroscuro (review here); “Summerland” dates back to 2010’s Más Allá Del Sol Poniente (review here), so yes, time has lost all meaning — moves into the handclap-and-maybe-farfisa-organ “Canción para Nuada,” one of several remixes with rerecorded drums. “Rocky Black” is an experiment in sound collage, and “Misquamacus” blends acoustic intricacy and distorted threat, while capper “Adiós Afallenau (Version)” returns the theremin for a two-minute walk before letting go to a long stretch of silence and some secret-track-style closing cymbals. The best thing you can do with Matus is just listen. It’s its own thing, it always has been, and the experimental edge brought to classic heavy rock is best taken on with as open a mind as possible. Let it go where it wants to go and the rewards will be plenty. And maybe in another five decades everyone will get it.
Offset by interludes like the classical-minded “Aversion” or the bass-led “Reprobation,” or even the build-up intro “S.Z.,” the ritual doom nod of Swiss five-piece Shrooms Circle‘s The Constant Descent is made all the more vital through the various keys at work across its span, whether it’s organ or mellotron amid the lumbering weight of the riffs. “Perpetual Decay” and its companion interlude “Amorphous” dare a bit of beauty, and that goes far in adding context and scope to the already massive sounding “The Unreachable Spiral” and the subtle vocal layering in “The Constant Descent.” Someone in this band likes early Type O Negative, and that’s just fine. Perhaps most of all, the 11-song/48-minute The Constant Descent is dynamic enough so that no matter where a given song starts, the listener doesn’t immediately know where it’s going to end up, and taking that in combination with the command shown throughout “Demotion,” “Perpetual Decay,” the eight-minute “Core Breakdown” and the another-step-huger finale “Stagnant Tide,” Shrooms Circle‘s second album offers atmosphere and craft not geared toward hooking the audience with catchy songwriting so much as immersing them in the mood and murk in which the band seem to reside. If Coven happened for the first time today, they might sound like this.
I’m gonna tell you straight out: Don’t write this shit off because Goatriders is a goofy band name or because the cover art for their second album, Traveler, is #vanlife carrot gnomes listening to a tape player on a hillside (which is awesome, by the way). There’s more going on with the Linköping four-piece than the superficialities make it seem. “Unscathed” imagines what might have happened if Stubb and Hexvssel crossed paths on that same hill, and the album careens back and forth smoothly between longer and shorter pieces across 50 engrossing minutes; nature-worshiping, low-key dooming and subtly genre-melding all the while. Then they go garage on “The Garden,” the album seeming to get rawer in tone as it proceeds toward “Witches Walk” and the a capella finish in “Coven,” which even that they can’t resist blowing out at the end. With the hypnotic tom work and repeat riffing of the instrumental “Elephant Bird” at its center and the shouted culminations of “Goat Head Nebula” and “Unscathed,” the urgent ritualizing of “Snakemother” and the deceptive poise at the outset with “Atomic Sunlight,” Traveler finds truth in its off-kilter presentation. You don’t get Ozium, Majestic Mountain and Evil Noise on board by accident. Familiar as it is and drawing from multiple sides, I’m hard-pressed to think of someone doing exactly what Goatriders do, and that should be taken as a compliment.
At the tender age of 80, bizarrist legend Arthur Brown — the god of hellfire, as the cover art immediately reminds — presents Long Long Road to a new generation of listeners. His first album under his own name in a decade — The Crazy World of Arthur Brown released Gypsy Voodoo (can you still say that?) in 2019 — and written and performed in collaboration with multi-instrumentalist Rik Patten, songs like “Going Down” revisit classic pageantry in organ and horns and the righteous lyrical proclamations of the man himself, while “I Like Games” toys with blues vibes in slide acoustic, kick drum thud and harmonica sleazenanigans, while the organ-and-electric “The Blues and Messing Round” studs with class and “Long Long Road” reminds that “The future’s open/The past is due/In this moment/Where everything that comes is new,” a hopeful message before “Once I Had Illusions (Part 2)” picks up where its earlier companion-piece left off in a manner that’s both lush and contemplative, more than a showpiece for Brown‘s storytelling and still somehow that. His legacy will forever be tied to The Crazy World of Arthur Brown‘s late-1960s freakery, but Long Long Road is the work of an undimmed creative spirit and still bolder than 90 percent of rock bands will ever dare to be.
Ultimately, whether one ends up calling Green Sky Accident‘s Daytime TV progressive psychedelia, heavier post-rock or some other carved-out microgenre, the reality of the 10-song/50-minute Apollon Records release is intricate enough to justify the designation. Richly melodic and unafraid to shimmer brightly, cuts like “Point of No Return” and the later dancer “Finding Failure” are sweet in mood and free largely of the pretense of indie rock, though “Insert Coin” and the penultimate piano interlude “Lid” are certainly well dug-in, but “Sensible Scenes,” opener “Faded Memories,” closer “While We Lasted” and the ending of “Screams at Night” aren’t lacking either for movement or tonal presence, and that results in an impression more about range underscored by songwriting and melody than any kind of tonal or stylistic showcase. The Bergen, Norway, four-piece are, in other words, on their own trip. And as much float as they bring forth, “In Vain” reimagines heavy metal as a brightly expressive terrestrial entity, a thing to be made and remade according to the band’s own purpose for it, and the title-track similarly balances intensity with a soothing affect. I guess this is what alt rock sounds like in 2022. Could be far worse, and indeed, it presents an ‘other’ vision from the bulk of what surrounds it even in an underground milieu. On a personal level, I can’t decide if I like it, and I kind of like that about it.
Pure Land Stars, Trembling Under the Spectral Bodies
With members of Cali psych-of-all explorers White Manna at their core, Pure Land Stars begin a series called ‘Altered States’ that’s a collaboration between Centripetal Force and Cardinal Fuzz Records, and if you’re thinking that that’s going to mean it’s way far out there, you’re probably not thinking far enough. Kosmiche drones and ambient foreboding in “Flotsam” and “3rd Grace” make the acoustic strum of “Mountains are Mountains” seem like a terrestrial touch-down, while “Chime the Kettle” portrays a semi-industrial nature-worship jazz, and “Jetsam” unfolds like a sunrise but if the sun suddenly came up one day and was blue. “Lavendar Crowd” (sic) turns the experimentalism percussive, but it’s that experimentalism at the project’s core, whether that’s manifest in the nigh-on-cinematic “Dr. Hillarious” (sic) or the engulf-you-now eight-minute closer “Eyes Like a Green Ceiling,” which is about as far from the keyboardy kratrock of “Flotsam” as the guitar effects and improvised sounding soloing of “Jetsam” a few tracks earlier. Cohesive? Sure. But in its own dimension. I don’t know if Pure Land Stars is a ‘band’ or a one-off, but they give ‘Altered States’ a rousing start that more than lives up to the name. Take a breath first. Maybe a drink of water. Then dive in.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 25th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Tampere, Finland, heavy psych proggers Polymoon have a slew of live dates set up in Europe for October around a slot at Desertfest Belgium in Antwerp. There are club dates and a couple TBAs, as will happen, but it’s a fitting answer to the tour the five-piece did this past Spring supporting their 2020 debut album, Caterpillars of Creation (review here), which came out on Svart and found the band last year getting picked up by Robotor Records, the label run by Kadavar.
In style and substance, that’s a good fit. And I’ve been kind of hoping that Polymoon would get down to business on a follow-up to Caterpillars of Creation sometime soon, but neither will I begrudge them giving the first record its due. Not their fault that’s happening two years later. Let the album come in 2023 if that’s when it comes. And maybe it’s not, mind you. I have no idea.
I’m just a caveman, and so on.
From the PR wire:
POLYMOON – BATTLING SLAKES TOUR 2022
Polymoon, whose debut album Caterpillars of Creation garnered international recognition and praise, announces an European tour.
Polymoon released their debut album Caterpillars Of Creation in the fall of 2020 through Svart Records and later signed to the German Robotor Records. The European tour is called the Battling Snakes Tour and it is set to happen in October 2022. During the tour the band will perform at Desertfest Antwerp, among others!
Polymoon is a quintet based in Tampere, Finland. Since 2019, they’ve adventured in the blossoming psychedelic music scene of Finland where the band is known for its energetic and spectacular live performances. In the music of the band, both euphoria and melancholy are merged guiding the listener to a new level of being – to embrace the psychedelic monolith.
The band’s debut album Caterpillars Of Creation, released through Svart Records, saw the light of day in September 2020, gathering attention around the world. At the end of the year, Caterpillars Of Creation found its way to a dozen “Best of 2020” lists and received a vast array of excellent reviews. During the spring of 2022, Polymoon did its initial live experimentations outside of Finland. These included performances at Sonic Whip and Desertfest Berlin. During the pandemic, the band performed at the online version of the legendary Roadburn Festival (Redux).
The band, who quickly sold out the first edition of their debut album, signed a recording contract in the summer of 2021 with German Robotor Records, led by the band Kadavar.
Battling Snakes Tour 2022: Fri 7.10. Lepakkomies, Helsinki Sat 8.10. Vastavirta, Tampere Wed 12.10. Schaubude, Kiel Thu 13.10. TBA Fri 14.10. TBA Sat 15.10. De Onderbroek, Nijmegen Sun 16.10. Desertfest Antwerp Tue 18.10. C.Keller, Weimar Wed 19.10. Zukunft Am Ostkreuz, Berlin Thu 20.10. Klub RE, Kraków Fri 21.10. Lemmy, Kaunas Sat 22.10. Depo, Riga Sun 23.10. Sveta Baar, Tallinn
POLYMOON is: Tuomas Heikura / Drums Jesse Jaksola / Guitar Otto Kontio / Guitar Kalle-Erik Kosonen / Vocals, Synthesizer Juuso Valli / Bass
Resoundingly bleak Finnish experimentalists Vorare will release their debut album, Voyeur, on Aug. 30 through Total Dissonance Worship. The eight-song/41-minute here’s-a-carcass-style offering follows behind the Tampere two-piece of EV and EH‘s first EP, The Drainage Rituals (review here), and its willfully dreadful, abrasive sprawl codifies much of what the prior release had to offer, the band creating a sound that is as extreme as any of the most aggro heavy metals, but fits neatly alongside none of them. Crashes and punch of industrial beats meet with piercing high-pitched noise, the is-it-on ambient minimalism in the pre-swell moments of the title-track, the biting insect wash that ensues, and anywhere you try to find safe ground on Voyeur, the floor collapses from underneath. Punishing. At times genuine aural horror. Brutal in its worldmaking.
The video for “Floodmines” asks an important question that applies to the rest of Voyeur around it, which is what do you do when even the light won’t save you? Imagine yourself out for a hike on a gorgeous and sunny day. You come into a clearing from a forest of gorgeous evergreens into some tall grasses, and just as you’re thinking you’re glad you splurged for the good boots, you find two beige-cloaked figures standing completely still, staring directly at you as the wind blows by. There’s going to be a moment of panic and surprise, even before you get to fight or flight, as your brain processes what you’re seeing and interprets the utter terror of the possibilities derived from it. Take that moment, stretch it out across the entire droning four minutes of drum-backed noise and deep, deep-placed creeper keyboard or guitar — I’m not even sure what that is, but it’s there for a while in the middle of the song before it all collapses into the last drones — and then stretch it further across the rest of the record. That’s not to say it all sounds the same — there’s any number of places to start when flaying your listener’s illusions of security in this world — but “Floodmines” represents the ethic that seems to unite the material despite the different angles EV and EH (who between them have a pedigree that includes Mireplaner, Fargue, Fawn Limbs, Positiivinen Ongelma and probably more just in the last few years) use to approach their task.
Their purposeful use of empty space throughout is a strength. Beginning with the immersive two-song salvo of “This Body Aweigh” and the already noted title-track — two of only three songs to top six minutes long; the other is closer “Barren,” which stands testament to intentional sequencing — and across the would-be-primitive-were-it-not-so-progressive dancing-in-water-with-weights-on beat pulsations and various howling musical animalia of “A Mountain Hewed of Light” and the intermittently chaotic “Tarnished Nature,” which, like the subsequent “Floodmines” feels improvised in some of its synth layers, Voyeur might periodically just blank out to silence or near-silence, and the effect can be as jarring as the high-frequency stabs that ensue all the while and seem to come even more forward on “Orifice Carver,” “They Are Here” and “Barren” on side B. It’s one of the ways in which Vorare create this unsettling space, where one never quite understands where they are or what might be coming, but the feeling of threat is the universal, whether it’s the industrial collapse of “They Are Here” or the volume trades of “Tarnished Nature” or the overwhelming feeling of burning in “This Body Aweigh” for about a minute in the first half of the song before that too caves in on itself and moves elsewhere, vocals trading between higher and lower screams and growls in the meantime. These all come together and feed the violence of the atmosphere. Clearly the dead were lucky in whatever apocalypse just took place.
But there’s life in here as well, represented not so much in the vocals that may or may not be included/needed in a given piece — singles are decent for building anticipation and spreading the word about a release, but Voyeur very much deserves to be listened to in its entirety, by those who can make it through front-to-back, anyhow — but in some of the harshest stretches of noise, as beneath the blowout vocal layers on “Voyeur,” where the synth line changes subtly to represent the foundation of craft here. That is, it’s impossible to listen to Voyeur especially after The Drainage Rituals (which was recorded after but released first) earlier this year and call it coincidence or a one-off. There is a plan at work, a style being cultivated as though from the earth and shaped into what Vorare want it to be, these discomfiting sculptures of manipulated sound. EH and EV have already begun to refine — such as the word applies — their take, and I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can do to halt that process. I’d tell you to be forewarned, but if you can dig into it, you won’t need the warning, and if you can’t, you’ve already stopped reading. So there.
Enjoy:
Vorare, “Floodmines” video premiere
“Floodmines” is the second single taken from our upcoming full-length “Voyeur”, out on August 30 in collaboration with Total Dissonance Worship. Preorder here: https://linktr.ee/vorare
VORARE is a fresh entity formed by two individuals destined to mold a spiritual and holistic aural and visual experience out of leanings falling to the spectrum of drone-doom, noise, industrial, and electronic music. The pair’s experimental tendencies first took shape in the form of Voyeur, that’s to be released on August 30 in collaboration with Total Dissonance Worship.
Voyeur was composed and recorded within the span of five days this January, at a snow-barred cabin in the woods, in the middle of nowhere. Due to logistics, VORARE postponed the release of the album, and compensated this delay with the release of The Drainage Rituals this May. While this later-conceived EP was deeply rooted in evolving ambiances and tonal control, Voyeur is a brutally primitive and exceedingly aggressive pathos to the point of surpassing caustic proportions.
VORARE’s leading motif is to enthrall the listener with delicate sound design and shroud them with brute force, keeping the listener’s emotions hostage while engulfing them fully with their abstract and abrasive noisescapes. Stylistically spanning from drone-doom to harsh noise and even industrial-tinged IDM, VORARE always leads with the experimentation and notion of avant-garde firmly on the forefront, from the initial instrumentation and compositions to the ultimate aesthetic.
1. This Body Aweigh 2. Voyeur 3. A Mountain Hewed of Light 4. Tarnished Nature 5. Floodmines 6. Orifice Carver 7. They Are Here 8. Barren
Here begins day two of 10. I don’t know at what point it occurred to me to load up the Quarterly Review with killer stuff to make it, you know, more pleasant than having it only be records I feel like I should be writing about, but I’m intensely glad I did.
Seems like a no brainer, right? But the internet is dumb, and it’s so easy to get caught up in what you see on social media, who’s hyping what, and the whole thing is driven by this sad, cloying FOMO that I despise even as I participate. If you’re ever in a situation to let go of something so toxic, even just a little bit and even just in your own head — which is where it all exists anyhow — do it. And if you take nothing else from this 100-album Quarterly Review besides that advice, it won’t be a loss.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Magnatar, Crushed
Can’t say they don’t deliver. The eight-song/38-minute Crushed is the debut long-player from Manchester, New Hampshire’s Magnatar, and it plays to the more directly aggressive side of post-metallic riffing. There are telltale quiet stretches, to be sure, but the extremity of shouts and screams in opener “Dead Swan” and in the second half of “Crown of Thorns” — the way that intensity becomes part of the build of the song as a whole — is well beyond the usual throaty fare. There’s atmosphere to balance, but even the 1:26 “Old” bends into harsh static, and the subsequent “Personal Contamination Through Mutual Unconsciousness” bounces djent and post-hardcore impulses off each other before ending up in a mega-doom slog, the lyric “Eat shit and die” a particular standout. So it goes into “Dragged Across the Surface of the Sun,” which is more even, but on the side of being pissed off, and “Loving You Was Killing Me” with its vastly more open spaces, clean vocals and stretch of near-silence before a more intense solo-topped finish. That leaves “Crushed” and “Event Horizon” to round out, and the latter is so heavy it’s barely music and that’s obviously the idea.
Three longform cosmic rock excursions comprise Wild Rocket‘s Formless Abyss — “Formless Abyss” (10:40), “Interplanetary Vibrations” (11:36) and “Future Echoes” (19:41) — so lock in your harness and be ready for when the g-forces hit. If the Dubliners have tarried in following-up 2017’s Disassociation Mechanics (review here), one can only cite the temporal screwing around taking place in “Interplanetary Vibrations” as a cause — it would be easy to lose a year or two in its depths — never mind “Future Echoes,” which meets the background-radiation drone of the two inclusions prior with a ritualized heft and slow-unfurling wash of distortion that is like a clarion to Sagan-headed weirdos. A dark-matter nebula. You think you’re freaked out now? Wild Rocket speak their own language of sound, in their own time, and Formless Abyss — while not entirely without structure — has breadth enough to make even the sunshine a distant memory.
An awaited debut full-length from Brooklyn multimedia artist/producer Brandon Gallagher, Trace Amount‘s Anti Body Language sees release through Greg Puciato‘s Federal Prisoner imprint and collects a solid 35 minutes of noise-laced harsh industrial worldbreaking. Decay anthems. A methodical assault begins with “Anxious Awakenings” and moving through “Anti Body Language” and “Eventually it Will Kill Us All,” the feeling of Gallagher acknowledging the era in which the record arrives is palpable, but more palpable are the weighted beats, the guttural shouts and layers of disaffected moans. “Digitized Exile” plays out like the ugliest outtake from Pretty Hate Machine — a compliment — and after the suitably tense “No Reality,” the six-minute “Tone and Tenor” — with a guest appearance from Kanga — offers a fuller take on drone and industrial metal, filling some of the spaces purposefully left open elsewhere. That leaves the penultimate “Pixelated Premonitions” as the ultimate blowout and “Suspect” (with a guest spot from Statiqbloom; a longtime fixture of NY industrialism) to noise-wash it all away, like city acid rain melting the pavement. New York always smells like piss in summer.
This band just keeps getting better, and yes, I mean that. Toronto’s Lammping begin an informal, casual-style series of singles with “Desert on the Keel,” the sub-four-minutes of which are dedicated to a surprisingly peaceful kind of heavy psychedelia. Multiple songwriters at work? Yes. Rhythm guitarist Matt Aldred comes to the fore here with vocals mellow to suit the languid style of the guitar, which with Jay Anderson‘s drums still giving a push beneath reminds of Quest for Fire‘s more active moments, but would still fit alongside the tidy hooks with which Lammping populate their records. Mikhail Galkin, principal songwriter for the band, donates a delightfully gonna-make-some-noise-here organ solo in the post-midsection jam before “Desert on the Keel” turns righteously back to the verse, Colm Hinds‘ bass McCartneying the bop for good measure, and in a package so welcome it can only be called a gift, Lammping demonstrate multiple new avenues of growth for their craft and project. I told you. They keep getting better. For more, dig into 2022’s Stars We Lost EP (review here). You won’t regret it.
Immediate three-part harmonies in the chorus of opener “Stealin’ Wine” set the tone for Limousine Beach‘s self-titled debut, as the new band fronted by guitarist/vocalist David Wheeler (OutsideInside, Carousel) and bringing together a five-piece with members of Fist Fight in the Parking Lot, Cruces and others melds ’70s-derived sounds with a modern production sheen, so that the Thin Lizzy-style twin leads of “Airboat” hit with suitable brightness and the arena-ready vibe in “Willodene” sets up the proto-metal of “Black Market Buss Pass” and the should-be-a-single-if-it-wasn’t “Hear You Calling.” Swagger is a staple of Wheeler‘s work, and though the longest song on Limousine Beach is still under four minutes, there’s plenty of room in tracks like “What if I’m Lying,” the AC/DC-esque “Evan Got a Job” and the sprint “Movin’ On” (premiered here) for such things, and the self-awareness in “We’re All Gonna Get Signed” adds to the charm. Closing out the 13 songs and 31 minutes, “Night is Falling” is dizzying, and leads to “Doo Doo,” the tight-twisting “Tiny Hunter” and the feedback and quick finish of “Outro,” which is nonetheless longer than the song before it. Go figure. Go rock. One of 2022’s best debut albums. Good luck keeping up.
Perfect Light is the closest Patrick Walker (also Warning) has yet come to a solo album with 40 Watt Sun, and any way one approaches it, is a marked departure from 2016’s Wider Than the Sky (review here, sharing a continued penchant for extended tracks but transposing the emotional weight that typifies Walker‘s songwriting and vocals onto pieces led by acoustic guitar and piano. Emma Ruth Rundle sits in on opener “Reveal,” which is one of the few drumless inclusions on the 67-minute outing, but primarily the record is a showcase for Walker‘s voice and fluid, ultra-subdued and mostly-unplugged guitar notes, which float across “Behind My Eyes” and the dare-some-distortion “Raise Me Up” later on, shades of the doom that was residing in the resolution that is, the latter unflinching in its longing purpose. Not a minor undertaking either on paper or in the listening experience, it is the boldest declaration of intent and progression in Walker’s storied career to-date, leaving heavy genre tropes behind in favor of something that seems even more individual.
Snagged by Heavy Psych Sounds in the early going of 2022, French rockers Decasia debut on the label with An Endless Feast for Hyenas, a 10-track follow-up to 2017’s The Lord is Gone EP (review here), making the most of the occasion of their first full-length to portray inventive vocal arrangements coinciding with classic-sounding fuzz in “Hrosshvelli’s Ode” and the spacier “Cloud Sultan” — think vocalized Earthless — the easy-rolling viber “Skeleton Void” and “Laniakea Falls.” “Ilion” holds up some scorch at the beginning, “Hyenas at the Gates” goes ambient at the end, and interludes “Altostratus” and “Soft Was the Night” assure a moment to breathe without loss of momentum, holding up proof of a thoughtful construction even as Decasia demonstrate a growth underway and a sonic persona long in development that holds no shortage of potential for continued progress. By no means is An Endless Feast for Hyenas the highest-profile release from this label this year, but think of it as an investment in things to come as well as delivery for right now.
The abiding shove of “Circle” and the more swinging “Abracadabra” begin Giant Mammoth‘s second full-length, Holy Sounds, with a style that wonders what if Lowrider and Valley of the Sun got together in a spirit of mutual celebration and densely-packed fuzz. Longer pieces “The Colour is Blue” and “Burning Man” and the lightly-proggier finale “Teisko” space out more, and the two-minute “Dust” is abidingly mellow, but wherever the Tampere, Finland, three-piece go, they remain in part defined by the heft of “Abracadabra” and the opener before it, with “Unholy” serving as an anchor for side A after “Burning Man” and “Wasteland” bringing a careening return to earth between “The Colour is Blue” and the close-out in “Teisko.” Like the prior-noted influences, Giant Mammoth are a stronger act for the dynamics of their material and the manner in which the songs interact with each other as the eight-track/38-minute LP plays out across its two sides, the second able to be more expansive for the groundwork laid in the first. They’re young-ish and they sound it (that’s not a slag), and the transition from duo to three-piece made between their first record and this one suits them and bodes well in its fuller tonality.
New Jersey trio Pyre Fyre may or may not be paying homage to their hometown of Bayonne with “Rinky Dink City,” but their punk-born fuzzy sludge rock reminds of none so much as New Orleans’ Suplecs circa 2000’s Wrestlin’ With My Ladyfriend, both the title-tracks dug into raw lower- and high-end buzztone shenanigans, big on groove and completely void of pretense. Able to have fun and still offer some substance behind the chicanery. I don’t know if you’d call it party rock — does anyone party on the East Coast or are we too sad because the weather sucks? probably, I’m just not invited — but if you were having a hangout and Pyre Fyre showed up with “Slow Cookin’,” for sure you’d let them have the two and a half minutes it takes them (less actually) to get their point across. In terms of style and songwriting, production and performance, this is a band that ask next to nothing of the listener in terms of investment are able to effect a mood in the positive without being either cloyingly poppish or leaving a saccharine aftertaste. I guess this is how the Garden State gets high. Fucking a.
Kamru, Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe
Issued on April 20, the cumbersomely-titled Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe is the debut outing from Denver-based two-piece Kamru, comprised of Jason Kleim and Ashwin Prasad. With six songs each hovering on either side of seven minutes long, the duo tap into a classic stoner-doom feel, and one could point to this or that riff and say The Sword or liken their tone worship and makeup to Telekinetic Yeti, but that’s missing the point. The point is in the atmosphere that is conjured by “Penumbral Litany” and the familiar proto-metallurgy of the subsequent “Hexxer,” prominent vocals echoing with a sense of command rare for a first offering of any kind, let alone a full-length. In the more willfully grueling “Cenotaph” there’s doomly reach, and as “Winter Rites” marches the album to its inevitable end — one imagines blood splattered on a fresh Rocky Mountain snowfall — the band’s take on established parameters of aesthetic sounds like it’s trying to do precisely what it wants. I’m saying watch out for it to get picked up for a vinyl release by some label or other if that hasn’t happened yet.
