Netherlands-based caustic industrial two-piece All Are to Return will release a new audio/visual EP, Līmen, sometime in the near future. The persistently harsh outfit, which as ever is comprised solely of F and N, last Spring made the dark offering of AATR III (review here) and with it conjured a litany of bodily and/or existential terrors, and the upcoming four-tracker is consistent in that regard while pivoting to an even noisier approach. That is to say, while not lacking in the first place for cinematic foreboding or an aurally bleak cast, All Are to Return are upping the stakes of their already punishing methodology.
What does this mean for the listener? A new litmus in Līmen? I mean, maybe. It likely depends on how much time you’ve spent embroiled in harsh noise and drone. “The Augur,” the video for which premieres below with a kind of narrative playing out in text for lyrics that aren’t there — for something so extreme in its purposes generally, it’s hard not to think of the words as part of a manifesto — is emblematic of the intention behind what follows it on the mercifully brief outing (not taking the piss; these are cruel sounds and it’s not an accident; if it was pleasant it would be a different kind of art), as “Sujet Maudite” comes to howl before dropping to silence amid suitably anti-capitalist treatise, “The Veil” ties in notions of the physical self while droning lower and more primal, and “That Which Listens” reminds in rhythmic minimalism of the connections underlying existence.
The centaur question — I was trying to write “central” there, but I acquiesce to autocorrect based on the image of slaying the centaur of one’s own ignorance — is whether or not you can hang with All Are to Return as they are here. It’s not the most outwardly furious they’ve ever been, but especially on headphones hypnotized by the slow motion of the video on full screen, Līmen plays out like an arthouse installation more than a collection of songs, and it’s probably best if it’s consumed that way as well. What I’m trying to say is be ready and willing to leave your comfort zone behind because the greater likelihood is All Are to Return are coming from and speaking to a place well outside of it. If you’re up for a challenge, so are they.
And no, three minutes of harsh noise ambience probably isn’t going to deconstruct your consciousness, but it does expand the idea of what the band’s songs can do, is heavy in ways beyond volume and, in combination with the video/text, finds a depth of impression generally reserved for the psychedelic. Does that make Līmen a kind of nightmare machine psych? I don’t have a better thing to call it, save perhaps for “hellish.”
“The Augur” premieres below. Please enjoy:
All Are to Return, “The Augur” video premiere
All Are To Return līmen is an AV-release consisting of 4 videos with an interconnected narrative, of which The Augur is the first chapter.
Tracklisting: 1. The Augur 2. Sujet Maudite 3. The Veil 4. That Which Listens
Credits: Music, video and narrative by All Are To Return.
Alright, back at it. Putting together yesterday over the weekend was more scattershot than I’d prefer, but one might say the same of parenting in general, so I’ll leave it at that. Still, as happens with Quarterly Reviews, we got there. That my wife gave me an extra 40 minutes to bang out the Wizzerd video premiere was appreciated. As always, she makes everything possible.
Compared to some QRs, there are a few ‘bigger’ releases here. You’ll note High on Fire leading off today. That trend will continue over this and next week with the likes of Pallbearer, Uncle Acid, Bongripper, Harvestman (Steve Von Till, ex-Neurosis), Inter Arma, Saturnalia Temple spread throughout. The Pelican two-songer and My Dying Bride back to back a week from today. That’ll be a fun one. As always, it’s about the time crunch for me for what goes in the Quarterly Review. Things I want to cover before it’s too late that I can fit here. Ain’t nobody holding their breath for my opinion on any of it, or on anything generally for that matter, but I’m not trying to slight well known bands by stuffing them into what when it started over a decade ago I thought would be a catchall for demos and EPs. Sometimes I like the challenge of a shorter word count, too.
And I remind myself here again nobody really cares. Fine, let’s go.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
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High on Fire, Cometh the Storm
What seems at first to be business as usual for High on Fire‘s fourth album produced by Kurt Ballou, fifth for MNRK Heavy (formerly E1), and ninth overall, gradually reveals itself to be the band’s tonally heaviest work in at least the last 15 years. What’s actually new is drummer Coady Willis (Big Business, Melvins) making his first studio appearance alongside founding guitarist/vocalist Matt Pike (Sleep, Pike vs. the Automaton) and long-tenured bassist/backing vocalist Jeff Matz (also saz on the instrumental interlude-plus “Karanlik Yol”), and for sure Willis‘ thud in “Trismegistus,” galloping intensity in the thrashy and angular “The Beating” and declarative stomp beneath the big slowdown of 10-minute closer “Darker Fleece” is part of it, but from the way Pike and Matz bring “Cometh the Storm’ and “Sol’s Golden Curse” in the record’s middle to such cacophonous ends, the three-and-a-half-minute face-kick that is “Lightning Beard” and the suckerpunch that starts off with “Lambsbread,” to how even the more vocally melodic “Hunting Shadows” is carried on a wave of filthy, hard-landing distortion, their ferocity is reaffirmed in thicker grooves and unmitigated pummel. While in some ways this is what one would expect, it’s also everything for which one might hope from High on Fire a quarter-century on from their first demo. Triumph.
A release concurrent to a remastered edition of their 2016 debut, Lemanis (review here), only puts into emphasis how much Spaceslug have come into their own over eight productive years. Recorded by drummer/vocalist Kamil Ziółkowski (also Mountain of Misery), with guitarist/vocalist Bartosz Janik and bassist/vocalist Jan Rutka dug into familiar tonal textures throughout five tracks and a quick but inevitably full-length-flowing 32 minutes, Out of Water is both otherworldly and emotionally evocative in the rollout of “Arise the Sun” following the intertwined shouts of opener “Tears of Antimatter,” and in keeping with their progression, they nudge toward metallic aggression as a way to solidify their heavy psychedelic aspects. “Out of Water” is duly mournful to encapsulate such a tragic notion, and the nod of “Delusions” only grows more forcefully applied after the return from that song’s atmospheric break, and while they depart with “In Serenity” to what feels like the escapism of sunnier riffing, even that becomes more urgent toward the album’s finish. The reason it works is they’re bending genre to their songs, not the other way around, and as Spaceslug mature as a group, they’ve become one of Poland’s most essential heavy acts.
First issued on CD through JM Records in 2023, Lie Heavy‘s debut album, Burn to the Moon, sees broader release through Heavy Psych Sounds with revamped art to complement the Raleigh, North Carolina, four-piece’s tonal heft and classic reach in pieces like “In the Shadow” and “The Long March,” respectively. The band is fronted by Karl Agell (vocalist for C.O.C.‘s 1991 Blind album and now also in The Skull-offshoot Legions of Doom), and across the 12-song/51-minute run, and whether it’s the crunch of the ripper “When the Universe Cries” or the Clutch-style heavy funk of “Chunkadelic” pushing further from the start-stops of “In the Shadow” or the layered crescendo of “Unbeliever” a short time later, he and bassist/vocalist TR Gwynne, guitarist/vocalist Graham Fry and drummer/vocalist Jeff “JD” Dennis deliver sans-pretense riff-led fare. They’re not trying to fix what wasn’t broken in the ’90s, to be sure, but you can’t really call it a retread either as they swing through “Drag the World” and its capstone counterpart “End the World”; it all goes back to Black Sabbath anyway. The converted will get it no problem.
Dublin, Ireland, trio Burning Realm mark their first release with the four-song Face the Fire EP, taking the cosmic-tinged restlessness of Wild Rocket and setting it alongside more grounded riffing, hinting at thrash in the ping ride on “From Beyond” but careening in the modern mode either way. Lead cut “Homosapien” gives Hawkwindian vibes early — the trap, which is sounding like Slift, is largely avoided, though King Gizzard may still be relevant as an influence — but smoothly gives over to acoustics and vocal drone once its urgency has bene vaporized, and spacious as the vocal echo is, “Face the Fire” is classic stoner roll even into its speedier ending, the momentum of which is continued in closer “Warped One (Arise),” which is more charged on the whole in a way that feels linear and intended in relation to what’s put before it. A 16-minute self-released introduction to who Burning Realm are now, it holds promise for how they might develop stylistically and grow in terms of range. Whatever comes or doesn’t, it’s easy enough to dig as it is. If you were at a show and someone handed you the tape, you’d be stoked once you put it on in the car. Also it’s like 1995 in that scenario, apparently.
Offered through an international consortium of record labels that includes Crême Brûlée Records in the band’s native France, Echodelick in the US, Clostridium in Germany and Weird Beard in the UK, French heavy psych thrusters Kalac‘s inaugural full-length, Odyssée — also stylized all-caps — doesn’t leave much to wonder why so many imprints might want some for the distro. With a focus on rhythmic movement in the we-gotta-get-to-space-like-five-minutes-ago modus of current-day heavy neo-space-rock, the mostly instrumental procession hypnotizes even as it peppers its expanses with verses here or there. That might be most effectively wrought in the payoff noiseblaster wash of “II,” which I’m just going to assume opens side B, but the boogie quotient is strong from “Arguenon” to “Beautiful Night,” and while might ring familiar to others operating in the aesthetic galaxial quadrant, the energy of Kalac‘s delivery and the not-haphazard-but-not-always-in-the-same-spot-either placement of the vocals are enough to distinguish them and make the six-tracker as exciting to hear as it sounds like it probably was to record.
The live-tracked fourth outing from Helsinki psych improvisationalists Alkuräjähdys, the lowercase-stylized ehdot. blends mechanical and electronic sounds with more organic psychedelic jamming, the synth and bassier punchthrough in the midsection of opening piece “.matriisi” indeed evocative of the dot-matrix printer to which its title is in reference, while “központ,” which follows, meanders into a broader swath of guitar-based noise atop a languidly graceful roll of drums. That let’s-try-it-slower ideology is manifest in the first half of the duly two-sided “a-b” as well, as the 12-minute finale begins by lurching through the denser distortion of a central riff en route to a skronk-jazz transition to a tighter midtempo groove that I’ll compare to Endless Boogie and very much intend that as a compliment. I don’t think they’re out to change the world so much as get in a room, hit it and see where the whole thing ends up, but those are noble creative aims in concept and practice, and between the two guitars, effects, synth and whathaveyou, there’s plenty of weird to go around.
Already a significant undertaking as a 95-minute 2LP running 11 tracks themed — as the title(s) would hint — around tarot cards, the mostly serene sprawl of Magick Brother & Mystic Sister‘s Tarot Pt. 1 is still just the first of two companion albums to be issued as the follow-up to the Barcelona outfit’s 2020 self-titled debut (discussed here). Offered through respected Greek purveyor Sound Effect Records, Tarot Pt. 1 gives breadth beyond just the runtime in the sitar-laced psych-funk of “The Hierophant” (swap sitar for organ, synth and flute on “The Chariot”) and the classic-prog pastoralia of closer “The Wheel of Fortune,” and as with the plague-era debut, at the heart of the material is a soothing acid folk, and while the keys in the first half of “The Emperor” grow insistent and there’s some foreboding in the early Mellotron and key lines of “The Lovers,” Tarot Pt. 1 resonates comfort and care in its arrangements as well as ambition in its scope. Maybe another hour and a half on the way? Sign me up.
The eight-year distance from their 2016 debut long-player, Little Cliffs, seems to have smoothed out some (not all, which isn’t a complaint) of the rough edges in Amigo‘s sound, as the seemingly reinvigorated San Diego four-piece of lead guitarist/vocalist Jeff Podeszwik (King Chiefs), guitarist Anthony Mattos, bassist Sufi Karalen and drummer Anthony Alley offer five song across an accessible, straightforward 17 minutes united beneath the fair-enough title of Good Time Island. Without losing the weight of their tones, a Weezery pop sensibility comes through in “Dope Den” while “Frog Face” is even more specifically indebted to The Cars. Neither “Telescope Boy” nor “Banana Phone” lacks punch, but Amigo hold some in reserve for “Me and Soof,” which rounds out the proceedings, and they put it to solid use for an approach that’s ’90s-informed without that necessarily meaning stoner, grunge or alt, and envision a commercially relevant, songwriting-based heavy rock and roll for an alternate universe that, by all accounts here, sounds like a decent place to be.
Culminating in the Sabbathian shuffle of “Eye for an Eye,” Wild Fever is the hook-drenched third full-length from Montreal fuzzbringers The Hazytones, and while they’ve still got the ‘tones’ part down pat, it’s easy to argue the eight included tracks are the least ‘hazy’ they’ve been to-date. Following on from the direction of 2018’s II: Monarchs of Oblivion (review here), the Esben Willems-mixed/Kent Stump-mastered 40-minute long-player isn’t shy about leaning into the grittier side of what they do as the opening title-track rolls out a chorus that reminds of C.O.C. circa In the Arms of God while retaining some of the melody between the vocals of Mick Martel (also guitar and keys) and Gabriel Prieur (also drums and bass), and with the correspondingly thick bass of Caleb Sanders for accompaniment and lead guitarist John Choffel‘s solo rising out of the murk on “Disease,” honing in on the brashness suits them well. Not where one might have expected them to end up six years later, but no less enjoyable for that, either.
God damn that’s harsh. Mostly anonymous industrialists — you get F and N for names and that’s it — All Are to Return are all the more punishing in the horrific recesses and engulfing blasts of static that populate III than they were in 2022’s II (review here), and the fact that the eight-songer is only 32 minutes long is about as close as they come to any concept of mercy for the psyche of their audience. Beyond that, “Moratorium,” “Colony Collapse,” the eats-you-dead “Archive of the Sky” and even the droning “Legacy” cast a willfully wretched extremity, and what might be a humanizing presence of vocals elsewhere is screams channeled through so much distortion as to be barely recognizable as coming from a human throat here. If the question being posed is, “how much can you take?,” the answer for most of those brave enough to even give III a shot will be, “markedly less than this.” A cry from the depths realizing a brutal vision.
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 25th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Well, the last couple years don’t seem to have made All Are to Return any less caustic. Fair enough. The still-mostly-anonymous-I-think industrial doom two-piece based in the Netherlands were last heard from with their 2022 single “A State in Fear,” and April 26 will mark the arrival of III, which they’ll issue through Tartarus Records in an edition of 50 tapes at a release show that’s also a label showcase about which you can read more below. The first aural peek at III, which of course follows late-2021’s II (review here), arrives in the form of “Drift,” which just might be the harshest three minutes you spend today. At least I’d hope so.
In “Drift,” even the backing drones that spread out through the atmospheres of All Are to Return‘s software-led churn feel nastier, and the way some of the vocals are obscured speaks to the band working with an ideology toward a three-dimensional mix. The rest of III bears that out like an existential burden, and as relates to its surroundings, “Drift” turns out to be one of the more accessible tracks on the record. For example, it’s got a beat, even if that beat is blown out and being used to collapse your rib cage.
Album’s out April 26, as per the PR wire:
All Are To Return announce new album AATR III // Single premiere
All Are To Return Single Premiere ‘Drift’
The ecological dark of our existence is pulsating with the presence of loss. Shifts occur on the periphery of awareness. Fundamental ruptures only inferred from apparent disappearance. Something felt before it is known. From here on, there are no stones that mark the path. -AATR
The two-man formation All Are To Return presents extreme, experimental music with an urgent sense of dread. The duo’s new album III will be released on April 26 via Tartarus Records.
We have entered a new age of extinction – of poisoned lands, habitat destruction and encompassing climate catastrophe. AATR III reflects the harshness of life laid bare to the vagaries of capital, of uncaring generations heaping misery on their successors and the life-forms with which they share a fragile biosphere.
The album’s unmitigated brutality of sound and expression are mediation of these concurrent events. Colossal noise-scapes are shaped with pulsing synth patterns, shredding percussion and vocals that are screams from the void. As a whole, the many-layered compositions carry massive assaults on the senses and a rage unhuman.
Manmade disasters borne from decades of unfettered greed, of carbon capital plundering the earth and choking its habitants – capital unleashed through self-interested short-sightedness, decades of corruption and denial of clear fact.
Our habitats swallowed by rising seas, engulfed in flames. As we drown, burn, or slowly parch and wither, we remember. Oceans heat and corals die as pale sludge in bright blue waters – thousands of years of unfathomable complexity undone in decades. Forests burn and ancient trees that were young when the pharaohs build their monuments perish in the flames. Poisons have spread through all ecosystems. The product of profit-maximizing agriculture at war with life. As insects disappear they signal extinction on a massive scale.
What is lost, is lost forever.
We will remember you through your shattered bones, your battered skulls turned fossil. We will remember you through your plastic deposits, your carbon waste, your radio-active poisons still leaking into our bodies. We will remember your bright and brief existence – and the inevitability of your demise.
Pressing info: 50x Cassettes
AATR III drops April 26th during their debut performance at the Tartarus showcase at Vera, Groningen in the Netherlands with label friends Ultha, Oud Zeer (Throwing Bricks & Ontaard), and Ortega. Event & Tickets:https://www.vera-groningen.nl/events/tartarus-records-presents-2024/
All Are To Return is: F: Bass, Drums, Guitars, Vocals, FXs N: Synths, FXs
Posted in Reviews on January 11th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Not to get too mathy or anything — stay with me, folks — but today is the day the Winter 2023 Quarterly Review passes the three-quarter mark on its way to 80 of the total 100 releases to be covered. And some of those are full-lengths, some are EPs, some are new, one yesterday was almost a year old. That happens. The idea here, one way or the other, is personal discovery. I hope you’ve found something thus far worth digging into, something that really hits you. And if not, you’ve still got 30 releases — 10 each today, tomorrow, Friday — to come, so don’t give up yet. We proceed…
Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #71-80:
Black Math Horseman, Black Math Horseman
Though long foretold by the prophets of such things, the return of Black Math Horseman with 2022’s self-titled, live-recorded-in-2019 EP some 13 years after their 2009 debut full-length, Wyllt (discussed here, interview here), helped set heavy post-rock in motion, is still a surprise. The tension in the guitars of Ian Barry (who also handled recording/mixing) and Bryan Tulao in the eponymous opener is maddening, a tumult topped by the vocals of Sera Timms (who here shares bass duties with Rex Elle), and given thunder by drummer Sasha Popovic, and as part of a salvo of three cuts all seven minutes or longer, it marks the beginning of a more intense extraction of the atmospheric approach to heavy songcraft that made their past work such a landmark, with the crashes of “Cypher” and the strummy sway of “The Bough” following ahead of shorter, even-driftier closer “Cypber.” There’s a big part of me that wishes Black Math Horseman was a full-length, but an even bigger part is happy to take what it can get and hope it’s not another decade-plus before they follow it with something more. Not to be greedy, but in 2009 this band had a lot more to say and all this time later that still feels like the case and their sound still feels like it’s reaching into the unknown.
The names here should be enough. It’s Aidan Baker from heavy drone experimentalist institution Nadjaja (‘and’ in Finnish) Jussi Lehtisalo from prog-of-all masters Circle, collaborating and sharing guitar, bass, vocal and drum programming duties — Lehtisalo would seem also to add the keyboards that give the the titular neon to centerpiece “Neon Splashing (From Your Eyes)” — on a 53-minute song cycle, running a broad spectrum between open-space post-industrial drone and more traditional smoky, melancholic, heady pop. Closer “Racing After Midnight” blends darker whispers with dreamy keyboard lines before moving into avant techno, not quite in answer to “I Wanna Be Your Bête Noire” earlier, but not quite not, and inevitably the 14-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “(And I Want Your Perfect) Crocodile Tears” is a defining stretch in terms of ambience and setting the contextual backdrop for what follows, its howling guitar layered with drum machine churn in a way that’s analogous to Jesu in style but not form, the wash that emerges in the synth and guitar there seeming likewise to be the suddenly-there alt-reality New Wave destination of the more languid meander of “Face/Off.” The amalgam of beauty and crush is enough to make one hope this isn’t Baker and Lehtisalo‘s last get together, but if it is, they made something worth preserving. By which I mean to say you might want to pick up the CD.
While their crux is no less in the dreamy, sometimes minimalist, melodic parts and ambient stretches of their longer-form songs and the interludes “In the Tall Grass” and “Bloom (Reprise),” the outright crush of Sacramento’s Chrome Ghost on their third record, House of Falling Ash (on Seeing Red), is not to be understated, whether that’s the lumber-chug of 14-minute opener “Rose in Bloom” or the bookending 13-minute closing title-track’s cacophonous wash, through which the trio remain coherent enough to roll out clean as they give the record its growl-topped sludge metal finish. Continuing the band’s clearly-ain’t-broke collaboration with producer Pat Hills, the six-song/50-minute offering boasts guest appearances from him on guitar, as well as vocals from Eva Rose (ex-CHRCH) on “Furnace,” likewise consuming loud or quiet, punishing or spacious, Oakland-based ambient guitarist Yseulde in the lengthy, minimalist midsection of “Where Black Dogs Dream,” setting up the weighted and melodic finish there, with Brume‘s Susie McMullin joining on vocals to add to the breadth. There’s a lot happening throughout, loud/quiet trades, experimental flourish, some pedal steel from Hills, but guitarist/vocalist Jake Kilgore (also keys), bassist Joe Cooper and drummer Jacob Hurst give House of Falling Ash a solid underpinning of atmospheric sludge and post-metal, and the work is all the more expressive and (intermittently) gorgeous for it.
Straight-ahead, metal-informed, organ-inclusive classic heavy rock is the order of the day on Wölfhead‘s second album, Blood Full Moon, which is the Barclona-based four-piece’s first offering since their 2011 self-titled debut and is released through Discos Macarras, Música Hibrida and Iron Matron Records. An abiding impression of the 11-song offering comes as the band — who filled out their well-pedigreed core lineup of vocalist Ivan Arrieta, guitarists Josue Olmo and Javi Félez, and drummer Pep Carabante with session players David Saavedra (bass) and Albert Recolons (keys) — present rippers like the Motörhead (no real surprise, considering) via Orange Goblin rocker “Funeral Hearse” as the tail end of a raucous opening salvo, or the later “Mother of the Clan,” but from there the proceedings get more complex, with the classic doom roll of “Rame Tep” or the Jerry Cantrell-esque moody twang of “Everlasting Outlaw,” while “Eternal Stone Mountain” blends keyboard grandiosity and midtempo hookmaking in a way that should bring knowing nods from Green Lung fans, while “The Munsters” is, yes, a take on the theme from the tv show, and closer “El Llop a Dins” takes an airier, sans-drums and more open feel, highlighting melody rather than an overblown finish that, had they gone that route, would have been well earned.
Issued through Argonauta Records, Exodus‘ seven inclusions are situated so that their titles read as a sentence: “Is,” “The Future of Mankind,” “Forced By,” “The King of Monsters,” “Because,” “Everything That Has Been Given,” “Will Be Taken Away.” Thus Leipzig, Germany, instrumentalists Godzilla in the Kitchen‘s second album is immediately evocative, even before “Is” actually introduces the rest of what follows across three minutes of progressively minded heavy rock — parts calling to mind Pelican duking it out with Karma to Burn — that give way to the longest cut and an obvious focal point, “The Future of Mankind,” which reimagines the bass punch from Rage Against the Machine‘s “Killing in the Name Of” as fodder for an odd-timed expanse of Tool-ish progressive heavy, semi-psych lead work coming and going around more direct riffing. The dynamic finds sprawl in “Because” and highlights desert-style underpinnings in the fading lead lines of “Everything That Has Been Given” before the warmer contemplation of “Will Be Taken” caps with due substance. Their use of Godzilla — not named in the songs, but in the band’s moniker, and usually considered the “king of monsters” — as a metaphor for climate change is inventive, but even that feels secondary to the instrumental exploration itself here. They may be mourning for what’s been lost, but they do so with a vigor that, almost inadvertently, can’t help but feel hopeful.
Megalurching post-sludgers Onhou leave a crater with the four-song Monument, released by Lay Bare Recordings and Tartarus Records and comprising four songs and a 41-minute run that’s crushing in atmosphere as much as the raw tonal heft or the bellowing vocals that offset the even harsher screams. Leadoff “When on High” (8:19) is the shortest cut and lumbers toward a viciously noisy payoff and last stretch of even-slower chug and layered extreme screams/shouts, while “Null” (10:39) is unremittingly dark, less about loud/quiet tradeoffs though there still are some, but with depths enough to bury that line of organ and seeming to reference Neurosis‘ “Reach,” and “Below” (11:55) sandwiches an ambient beginning and standalone keyboard finish around post-metallic crunch and not so much a mournfulness as the lizard-brain feeling of loss prior to mourning; that naked sense of something not there that should be, mood-wise. Sure enough, “Ruins” (11:03) continues this bleak revelry, rising to a nod in its first couple minutes, breaking, returning in nastier fashion and rolling through a crescendo finish that makes the subsequent residual feedback feel like a mercy which, to be sure, it is not. If you think you’re up to it, you might be, or you might find yourself consumed. One way or the other, Onhou plod forward with little regard for the devastation surrounding. As it should be.
Less meditative than some of Germany’s instrumental heavy psych set, Bremen’s Fuzzerati explore drifting heavy psychedelic soundscapes on their 47-minute second album, Zwo, further distinguishing themselves in longform pieces like “Claus to Hedge” (13:01) and closer “Lago” (13:34) with hints of floaty post-rock without ever actually becoming so not-there as to be shoegazing. “Lago” and “Claus to Hedge” also have harder-hitting moments of more twisting, pushing fuzz — the bass in the second half of “Claus to Hedge” is a highlight — where even at its loudest, the seven-minute “Transmission” is more about dream than reality, with a long ambient finish that gives way to the similarly-minded ethereal launch of “Spacewalk,” which soon enough turns to somewhat ironically terrestrial riffing and is the most active inclusion on the record. For that, and more generally for the fluidity of the album as a whole, Fuzzerati‘s sophomore outing feels dug in and complete, bordering on the jazziness of someone like Causa Sui, but ultimately no more of their ilk than of My Sleeping Karma‘s or Colour Haze‘s, and I find that without a ready-made box to put them in — much as “instrumental heavy psych” isn’t a box — it’s a more satisfying experience to just go where the three-piece lead, to explore as they do, breathe with the material. Yeah, that’ll do nicely, thanks.
At least seemingly in part a lyrical narrative about a demon killing an infant Jesus and then going to hell to rip the wings off angels and so on — it’s fun to play pretend — Afghan Haze‘s Hallucinations of a Heretic feels born of the same extreme-metal-plus-heavy-rock impulse that once produced Entombed‘s To Ride Shoot Straight and Speak the Truth, and yeah, that’s a compliment. The bashing of skulls starts with “Satan Ripper” after the Church of Misery-style serial murderer intro “Pushing up Daisies,” and though “Hellijuana” has more of a stomp than a shove, the dudely-violence is right there all the same. “Occupants (Of the Underworld)” adds speed to the proceedings for an effect like High on Fire born out of death metal instead of thrash, and though the following closer “Gin Whore” (another serial killer there) seems to depart from the story being told, its sludge is plenty consistent with the aural assault being meted out by the Connecticut four-piece, omnidirectional in its disdain and ready at a measure’s notice to throw kicks and punches at whosoever should stand in its way, as heard in that burner part of “Gin Whore” and the all-bludgeon culmination of “Occupants (Of the Underworld).” This shit does not want to be your friend.
My only wish here is that I could get a lyric sheet for the Britpsych-style banger that is “Costco Get Fucked.” Otherwise, I’m fully on board with Canadian trio Massirraytorr‘s debut LP, Twincussion — which, like the band’s name, is also styled all-caps, and reasonably so since the music does seem to be shouting, regardless of volume or what the vocals are actually up to in that deep-running-but-somehow-punk lysergic swamp of a mix. “Porno Clown” is garage raw. Nah, rawer. And “Bong 4” struts like if krautrock had learned about fuckall, the layer of effects biting on purpose ahead of the next rhythmic push. In these, as well as leadoff “Calvin in the Woods” and the penultimate noisefest “Fear Garden,” Massirraytorr feel duly experimentalist, but perhaps without the pretension that designation might imply. That is to say, fucking around is how they’re finding out how the songs go. That gives shades of punk like the earliest, earliest, earliest Monster Magnet, or The Heads, or Chrome, or, or, or, I don’t know fuck you. It’s wild times out here in your brain, where even the gravity slingshot of “The Juice” feels like a relatively straightforward moment to use as a landmark before the next outward acceleration. Good luck with it, kids. Remember to trail a string so you can find your way back.
Serbian five-piece Tona make their self-titled second LP with a 10-song collection that’s less a hodgepodge and more a melting pot of different styles coming together to serve the needs of a given song. “Sharks” is a rock tempo with a thrash riff. “Napoleon Complex Dog” is blues via hardcore punk. Opener “Skate Zen” takes a riff that sounds like White Zombie and sets it against skate rock and Megadeth at the same time. The seven-minute “Flashing Lights” turns progadelic ahead of the dual-guitar strut showoff “Shooter” and the willful contrast of the slogging, boozy closer “Just a Sip of It.” But as all-over-the-place as Tona‘s Tona is, it’s to the credit of their songwriting that they’re able to hold it together and emerge with a cohesive style from these elements, some of which are counterintuitively combined. They make it work, in other words, and even the Serbian-language “Atreid” gets its point across (all the more upon translation) with its careening, tonally weighted punk. Chock full of attitude, riffs, and unexpected turns, Tona‘s second long-player and first since 2008 gives them any number of directions in which to flourish as they move forward, and shows an energy that feels born from and for the stage.
Well then, here we are. Day two of the Spring 2022 Quarterly Review brings a few records that I really, really like, personally, and I hope that you listen and feel similar. What you’ll find throughout is a pretty wide swath of styles, but these are the days of expanded-definition heavy, so let’s not squabble about this or that. Still a lot of week to go, folks. Gotta keep it friendly.
Deep breath in, and…
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Arð, Take Up My Bones
Hard to know at what point Winterfylleth‘s Mark Deeks decided to send his historically-minded solo-project Arð to Prophecy Productions for release consideration, but damned if the six-song Take Up My Bones doesn’t feel quintessential. Graceful lines of piano and strings give way to massively-constructed lumbering funeralia, vocals adding to the atmosphere overall as the story of St. Cuthbert’s bones is recounted through song, in mood perhaps more than folk balladeering. Whatever your familiarity with that narrative or willingness to engage it, Deeks‘ arrangements are lush and wondrously patient, the sound of “Boughs of Trees” at the outset of side B building smoothly toward its deathly sprawl but unrelentingly melodic. The longer “Raise Then the Incorrupt Body” and “Only Three Shall Know” come across as more directly dramatic with their chants and so on, but Arð‘s beauty-through-darkness melancholy is the center around which the album is built and the end result is suitably consuming. While not incomplete by any means, I find myself wondering when it’s over what other stories Deeks may have to tell.
Oh, Seremonia. How I missed you. These long six years after Pahuuden Äänet (review here), the Finnish troupe return to rescue their cult listenership from any and all mundane realities, psych and garage-fuzz potent enough to come with a warning label (which so far as I know it doesn’t) on “Neonlusifer” and the prior opener “Väärä valinta” with the all-the-way-out flute-laced swirl of “Raskatta vettä,” and if you don’t know what to make of all those vowel sounds, good luck with the cosmic rock of “Kaivon pohjalla” and “Unohduksen kidassa,” on which vocalist Noora Federley relinquishes the lead spot to new recruit Teemu Markkula (also Death Hawks), who also adds guitar, synth, organ and flute alongside the guitar/synth/vocals of Ville Pirinen, the drums/guitar/flute/vocals of Erno Taipale and bass/synth/vocals of Ilkka Vekka. This is a band who reside — permanently, it seems — on a wavelength of their own, and Neonlusifer is more than welcome after their time out of time. May it herald more glorious oddness to come from the noisy mist that ends “Maailmanlopun aamuna” and the album as a whole.
Swedish heavy rockers The Quill mark 30 years of existence in 2022 (actually they go back further), and while Live, New, Borrowed, Blue isn’t quite an anniversary release, it does collect material from a pretty broad span of years. Live? “Keep it Together” and an especially engaging take on “Hole in My Head” that closes. New? The extended version of “Keep on Moving” from 2021’s Earthrise (review here), “Burning Tree” and “Children of the Sun.” Borrowed? Iron Maiden‘s “Where Eagles Dare,” November‘s “Mount Everest,” Aerosmith‘s “S.O.S.” and Captain Beyond‘s “Frozen Over.” Blue? Certainly “Burning Tree,” and all of it, if you’re talking about bluesy riffs, which, if you’re talking about The Quill, you are. In the narrative of Sverige heavy rock, they remain undersung, and this compilation, in addition to being a handy-dandy fan-piece coming off their last record en route to the inevitable next one, is further evidence to support that claim. Either you know or you don’t. Three decades on, The Quill are gonna be The Quill either way.
Though it’s just 20 minutes long, the six-song debut from Ohio’s Dark Worship offers dark industrial heft and a grim psychedelic otherworldliness in more than enough measure to constitute a full-length. At the center of the storm — though not the eye of it, because it’s quiet there — is J. Meyers, also of Axioma, who conjures the spaces of “Culling Song” and “We’ve Always Been Here” as a bed for a selection of guest vocalists, including Nathan Opposition of Ancient VVisdom/Vessel of Light, Axioma‘s Aaron Dallison, and Joe Reed (To Dust, Exorcisme). No matter who’s fronting a given track — Reed gets the lion’s share, Dallison the title-track and Opposition the penultimate “Destroy Forever (Death of Ra)” — the vibe is biting and dark in kind, with Meyers providing backing vocals, guitar, and of course the software-born electronic beats and melodies that are the core of the project. Maybe hindsight will make this nascent-feeling, but in terms of world construction, Flesh of a Saint is punishing in its immersion, right up to the howling feedback and ambience of “Well of Light” at the finish. Conceptually destructive.
More Experience, Electric Laboratory of High Space Experience
Nature sounds feature throughout More Experience‘s 2021 third album, Electric Laboratory of High Space Experience, with birdsong and other naturalist atmospheres in opener “The Twilight,” “Beezlebufo,” closer “At the Gates of Dawn,” and so on. Interspersed between them is the Polish troupe’s ’60s-worship psych. Drawing on sonic references from the earliest space rock and post-garage psychedelics — think Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane, King Crimson’s “Epitaph” is almost remade here as the penultimate title-track — band founder Piotr Dudzikowski (credited with guitars, organs, synthesizers, backing vocals, harmonium, tambura, and cobuz) gets by with a little help from his friends, which means in part that the vocals of extended early highlight “The Dream” are pulled back for a grain-of-salt spoken word on “The Trip” and the later “Fairy Tale.” The synthy “The Mind” runs over nine minutes and between that, “The Dream” and the title-track (9:56), I feel like I’m digging the longer-form, more dug-in songs, but I’m not going to take away from the ambient and more experimental stuff either, since that’s how this music was invented in the first place.
Young Indonesian riffers Jawless get right to the heart of heavy on their debut album, Warrizer, with a raw take on doom rock that’s dead-on heavy and classic in its mindset. There’s nothing fancy happening here other than some flourish of semi-psych guitar, but the self-produced four-piece from Bandung kill it with a reverence of course indebted to but not beholden to Sabbathian blues licks, and their swing on “Deceptive Events” alone is enough proof-of-concept for me. I’m on board. It’s not about progressive this or that. It’s not about trying to find a genre niche no one’s thought of yet. This is players in a room rocking the fuck out. And they might have a bleak point of view in cuts like “War is Come,” and one does not have to look too far to get the reference in “The Throne of Tramp,” but that sense of judgment is part and parcel to originalist doom. At 50 minutes, it’s long for an LP, but as “Restrained” pays off the earlier psychedelic hints, “Metaphorical Speech” boogie-jams and “G.O.D.” rears back with each measure to spit its next line, I wouldn’t lose any of it.
Adding a guest guitar solo from Earthless‘ Isaiah Mitchell wasn’t going to hurt the cause of Indianapolis duo The Heavy Co., and sure enough it doesn’t. Issued digitally in 2020 and premiered here, “Shelter” runs a quick three minutes of psych-blues rock perfectly suited to the 7″ treatment Rock Freaks Records gives it and the earlier digi-single “Phoenix” (posted here), which had been the group’s first offering after a six-year break. “Phoenix,” which is mellower and more molten in its tempo throughout its six minutes, might be the better song of the two, but the twang in “Shelter” pairs well with that bluesy riff from guitarist/vocalist Ian Daniel, and Jeff Kaleth holds it down on drums. More to come? Maybe. There’s interesting ground here to explore in this next phase of The Heavy Co.‘s tenure.
All that “Witch Boogie” is missing is John Lee Hooker going “boom boom boom” over that riff, and even when opener “Strange Fruit” or “Dreamin'” is indebted to the Rolling Stones, it’s the bluesier side of their sound. No problem there, but Freiburg, Germany, four-piece Sound of Smoke bring a swagger and atmosphere to “Soft Soaper” that almost ’70s-style Scorpions in its beginning before the shuffling verse starts, tambourine and all, and there’s plenty of pastoral psych in “Indian Summer” and 10-minute “Human Salvation,” the more weighted surges of which feel almost metallic in their root — like someone between vocalist/keyboardist Isabelle Bapté, guitarist Jens Stöver, bassist Florian Kiefer and drummer Johannes Braunstein once played in a harder-focused project. Still, as their debut LP after just a 2017 EP, the seven-song/43-minute Tales shows a looser rumble in “Devil’s Voice” behind Bapté, and there’s a persona and perspective taking shape in the songs. It’ll be hard work for them to stand out, but given what I hear in these tracks, both their psych edge and that sharper underpinning will be assets in their favor along with the sense of performance they bring.
Coming off their 2020 full-length, The Path to the Deathless (review here), Albuquerque-based trio Red Mesa — guitarist/vocalist Brad Frye, bassist/vocalist Alex Cantwell, who alternates here with Frye, and drummer/backing vocalist Roman Barham, who may or may not also join in on the song’s willfully lumbering midsection — take a stated turn toward doom with the 5:50 Forest Cathedral single. The grittier groove suits them, and the increasing sharing of vocals (which includes backing), makes them a more complex act overall, but there’s not necessarily anything in “Forest Cathedral” to make one think it’s some radical shift in another direction, which there was enough of on The Path to the Deathless to warrant a guest appearance from Dave Sherman of Earthride. Still, they continue to do it well, and honing in on this particular sound, whether something they do periodically to change it up, never touch again after this, or see as a new way to go all-in, I’m content to follow along and see where it goes.
In keeping with the tradition of over-the-top weed-doom band names, Margarita Witch Cult crawl forth from the birthplace of sonic weight, Birmingham, UK, with their debut two-songer cassingle-looking CD/DL Witchfinder. That’s not the only tradition they’re keeping. See also the classic riffer doom they capture in their practice space on the not-tape and the resulting rawness of “The Witchfinder Comes” and “Aradia,” bot nodders preaching Iommic truths. There’s a bit more scorch in the solo on “Aradia,” but that could honestly mean the microphone moved, and either way, they also keep the tradition of many such UK acts with goofball monikers in actually being pretty right on. Of course, they’re in one of the most crowded heavy undergrounds anywhere in the world, but there’s a lot to be said for taking doom rock and stripping it bare as they do on these tracks, the very least of which is that it would probably work really well on tape. If I was at the gig and I saw it on the merch table, I’d snag and look forward to more. I’ll do the same with the Bandcamp.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 9th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Harsh industrialist outfit Dark Worship will make its debut on Tartarus Records Feb. 25 with the six-song Flesh of a Saint. The project is spearheaded by Cleveland, Ohio-based J. Meyers, also known for his guitar work in Axioma, and though the record only runs 20 minutes long, that’s enough for pieces like “Culling Song” and “Destroy Forever (Death of Ra)” to cast their impression in brutal ambience and grim outlook.
The bite of opener “We’ve Always Been Here” and the sprawl of drone in the subsequent title-cut — for which a video is streaming and on which Aaron Dallison, also of Axioma, guests — isn’t to be understated, and between them they set the scope with which the rest of what follows plays out, from the percussive intensity of “Hollow Body” to the classically cinematic “Well of Light” at the finish, with no shortage of intensity along the way. It’s 20 minutes, but it’s a deep dive just the same.
The PR wire brought details and multi-media fare for the digging:
Dark Worship – US Post-industrial Practitioners Announce New Album “Flesh of A Saint”
Reveal Visualizer Video For Title Track
Tartarus Records is proud to announce the release of US post-industrial practitioners Dark Worship debut album, “Flesh of A Saint” on February 25th on limited tape cassette and vinyl.
Emerging from the bleak and unsettling landscape of the post-industrial American Midwest in 2020, Dark Worship is a collective orchestrated by J. Meyers (Axioma, Aureae Crucis) with the vocal assistance of Aaron Dallison (Axioma, Keelhaul, Brain Tentacles, Perdition Sect), Nathan Opposition (Ancient VVisdom, Integrity), and J. Reed (Exorcisme, To Dust) as an instrument to conjure the essence of sonic darkness.
Flesh of a Saint is the title track off the upcoming album featuring Aaron Dallison (Axioma, Brain Tentacles, Keelhaul) on vocals and a pulsating industrial soundscape. The accompanying video visualizer is an AI-generated surrealist landscape that was recorded reacting/morphing to the music track.
‘Flesh of a Saint’ embodies the spirit of early Release Entertainment by combining extreme metal’s abrasiveness with the industrious prowess of Scorn, Brighter Death Now, Candiru, and early Swans. Featuring contributions of members from Axioma, Ancient VVisdom, To Dust, Exorcisme, and Perdition Sect – Dark Worship embraces its roots in the industrial metal underground of Cleveland, OH where elements of metal, punk, industrial, and other forms of extreme music have been colliding for decades to form a unique and haunting voice. Reflecting the bleak, daunting, and abysmal environment that spawned its forebearers, Dark Worship erupted during the tumultuous summer of 2020. With an uncertain future musically, socially, and culturally, this collective embarked on a project focused on expressing the horror of the present.
Posted in Reviews on January 21st, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Last day. I guess we made it. There was never any doubt it would happen, but I wouldn’t call this the smoothest Quarterly Review ever by any stretch. Weather, canceled school, missed bus, The Patient Mrs. about to start a new semester at work, plus that day that had three noise rock records right in a row — who slots these things? (me) — it hasn’t all been easy. But, if you’ve ever read the QR you might know I’ve developed a tendency to load a bunch of killer stuff into the last day to kind of give myself a break, and here we are. No regrets.
Thanks for reading this week (and any other week if you’ve ever been on this site before). Here’s how we finish.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Dream Unending, Tide Turns Eternal
Beautiful and sad, this first collaboration between drummer/vocalist Justin DeTore (Solemn Lament, ex-Magic Circle, many more) and guitarist/bassist Derrick Vella (Tomb Mold, Outer Heaven) under the moniker of Dream Unending harnesses a classic early ’90s death-doom melancholy, but it’s not as raw as the image of My Dying Bride circa ’92 that might bring to mind. If you want to do mashups, think Novembers Doom meets Alternative 4-era Anathema. Tide Turns Eternal brings together seven songs in 46 minutes and is memorable in stretches like the guitar progression of “In Cipher I Weep” and the crushing chug of the title-track as the Massachusetts/Toronto duo harness the a true sense of classic death metal just ahead of the two-minute weepy guitar interlude “Forgotten Farewell” and the 10-minute closing title-track. Perhaps there’s some inspiration from Bell Witch in the making, but Dream Unending‘s atmosphere and patience are their own.
The title don’t lie. French expat Sergio Garcia, living in Indonesia, concocts 11 instrumental tracks of fuzzy flood, and if he wants to call that soup, then yeah, that’s as good as anything I’ve got. “Razana” opens with two minutes of garage-style strut, while “Back to Origin” crunches and “Fuzz Soup” feels a bit more of a psych freakout with its lead guitar and drums that remind of Witch, all performed by Garcia, who adds organ to boot. “Quest for Fire” is probably more in homage to the movie than band, which is a little sad, but the song brings in some minor scales and droning atmospherics, and “Ride the Mammoth” pushes more straightforward into the languid wah whatnottery of “Argapura” at the presumed start of side B, which feels rawer in “The Shelter” and more chaotic in the buzz of “Surfin’ the Dune” before “The Cheating Mole” turns to nighttime darkjazz, “Tumulous” turns its acoustic start into a hairy march punctuated and grounded by the pop of snare, and closer “Narcolepsy” finishes with a duly zombified, organ-laced take on tape-trader doom. These experiments work well together throughout Fuzz Soup, united by weird and unpredictable as they are.
Gänger is third in a purported series of four EPs by Manchester, UK, four-piece Farfisa, and its four songs solidify some of the more let-go aspects of 2020’s Bravado, taking the folkish shine of a cut like “My Oh My” and turning it into the dug-in garage prog rock of “Honey Badger” and riffing out dirty and fuzzed on “River Rash.” Frankly, I don’t know why, having once conjured tones like those of the penultimate “Clinton” here, which sound like something that would make Ty Segall start a new band, one would ever not do that again, but I won’t claim to know what the fourth EP in the series might bring. One can only hope that, when the series is wrapped, they compile it into some sort of offering — a double-tape or some such — and release the whole thing together. As it stands though, Gänger is my first exposure to the band, and they smash through “Limitator” with due prejudice. I can think of five record labels off the top of my head who’d be lucky to have these guys, but nobody asks me these things.
Fucking a, rock and roll. Reykjavik’s Volcanova aren’t through “Salem,” the lead cut from their righteously titled Cosmic Bullshit EP, before they’ve cadenced Uncle Acid in the verse and broken out the cowbell, so yes, it’s that kind of party. That cowbell comes back almost immediately for “Gold Coast,” which tramps out big riffs like Def Leppard used to make, and “Desolation” brings the bass forward effectively in its hook, the band having already built fervent momentum that will carry through the rest of the 26-minute mini-album. Not to pick favorites, but “End of Time” feels purposefully placed near the middle, and “No Wheels” — yup, more cowbell — splits that and closer “Lost Spot” well, giving a grounded stretch of pure shove before the finale hard-boogies and big-drifts its way to a surprising wash of an ending, organ included. You don’t call your release Cosmic Bullshit if you’re not looking to get attention, and Volcanova certainly earn that with these tracks.
The premier collaboration between Arizona’s Aiwass and Colorado’s Astral Construct — the latter also stylized as ASTRAL COnstruct — is a seven-minute single called “Solis in Stellis” that bridges terrestrial and ethereal heavy psychedelias. At a bit under eight minutes, its melodic flourish and weighted underpinning of low end, drifting guitar and fluid rhythmic progression sound like nothing so much as the beginning of an album that should be made if it’s not currently in the works between Drew Patricks (Astral Construct) and Blake Carrera (Aiwass), who both function as solo artists in their respective projects but come together here to show the complementary potential of each for the other. Lush in atmosphere, patient in its delivery and spacious without being overwrought, “Solis in Stellis” is hopefully the beginning of more to come from these two, who might just end up having to call themselves the Aiwass Construct if they keep going the way they are.
Seven years after 2014’s The Witching Hour, Ohio’s Doctor Smoke return with Dreamers and the Dead, a solid 10-song/42-minute run that makes up for lost time by reimagining ’90s-era Megadeth sneer as dark and catchy heavy rock and roll. The four-piece led by founding guitarist/vocalist Matt Tluchowski may have let a few years get by them — that’ll happen — but if the intervening time was spent hammering out these songs, the effort shows itself in the efficiency with which each cut makes its point and gets out, a song like “These Horrid Things” casting its mood in the verses before opening to the chorus, winding fretwork building tension into and subsequently through the solo. This is a revamp of the idea of a classic metal influence, the first instance of a generational shift I can think of that’s bringing this particular vibe to a heavy rock context — the pounding and sprinting of the title-track might’ve been thrash in the ’80s, but a decade later it was thicker and so it is here as well — and Doctor Smoke make it theirs, no question. One wonders what the next seven years will bring.
Rebranded from their moniker of Sierra, Ontario progressive heavy rockers Willowater bring the four-track/14-minute EP as a quick hello to listeners new and old. Guitarist/vocalist Jason Taylor and bassist/drummer/vocalist Robbie Carvalho (also synth) chug out in early-Tool fashion on the opener “Ultimatum,” and the subsequent title-track answers back in kind with shared vocals and a bit of twisting, pulled squeals of guitar, and so on, while “Fly High” calls to mind Dio-style riffing with a bassline to bolster the classic metal vibe, and “Winter Now” builds a tension in its keyboard-laced 3:26 that, somewhat maddeningly, never pays itself off. Perhaps the message there is of more to come. Hope so, anyhow. Sierra were a quality band, and undervalued. Willowater seem to be taking another shot at catching as many ears as possible. A fresh start. Not so crazy different from what they were doing before, but sometimes a name can make all the difference.
This second EP from the anonymous Dutch outfit All Are to Return reignites the brutality of their 2020 self-titled debut short release (review here), while expanding the stylistic reach. Opener “Carceri” tips into industrial black metal before resolving itself in harsh screams and drones, while “Surveiller et Punir” feels even more experimental/art rock with tortured screams far back under noisy guitar. “Classified” is shorter and more beat-oriented, but the distorted wash of “Postscript on the Societies of Control” (bit of positive thinking there, almost in spite of itself) is abrasive as fuck, such that the quiet, minimal synth that starts “De Profundis” accompanied by more obscured screams seems almost like a relief before it builds to its own post-Godflesh industrialized crush. They finish atmospheric on “Desiring Machines,” blowing out conceptions of extreme music in about the time it takes for you to put on your shoes and jacket so you can go out, wander into the wilderness, and never be heard from again.
Members of Mirror Queen, the just-signed-to-Tee–Pee-proper Limousine Beach (really, I haven’t even had the chance to post the news yet), Zombi, Ruby the Hatchet and Osees coming together for three Mountain covers. Mountain Sides do “You Better Believe It,” “Dreams of Milk and Honey” and “Travelin’ in the Dark,” and they knock it out of the park accordingly. I don’t know that this would ever get to become a real band between the commitments of Morgan McDaniel, David Wheeler and Steve Moore, let alone Owen Stewart (Ruby the Hatchet‘s drummer) or Paul Quattrone from Osees and a geographic spread between New York, Philly, Pittsburgh and Los Angeles, but as a quick outing to test the waters, these three songs want nothing for vibe. Of course, being Mountain songs helps, but it almost inevitably would. Still, I’d take a record of tunes they wrote themselves, even if it doesn’t happen for another decade because everyone’s busy.
Serenity in experimentalist drone and psychedelia, marked by the interplay of organic folk and otherworldly elements of fluid aural adventures. The backward, swelling repetitions of “The Alluring Pool” answer the watery worldmaking of leadoff “Rivers are a Place of Power,” the backing chimes reminding of water moving the air, the acoustic guitar on centerpiece “Riverbank” furthering the theme in sweetly plucked notes while Duncan Park (who also collaborates with Seven Rivers of Fire) picks up the journey again on “The Winding Stream” with a current of melody playing beneath the main acoustic lines of the song, instrumental in its entirety. Invoking the Flood, apart perhaps from some warning that might be read into the opener, grows more peaceful as it goes, though Park‘s inclusion of vocals on closer “Over the River” speaks perhaps of other tributaries waiting to be explored. Still, it is a sweet and encompassing, if short, trip downstream with Park here, and if the flood comes, at least we had a good time.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 15th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
It hasn’t been that long since the anonymous two-piece All Are to Return released their self-titled debut EP (review here), just over a year, but they’ve apparently gotten noisier and a bit more avant garde in that time if the streaming track “Carceri” is anything to go by. The new release, called simply All Are to Return II will be out in a continuing collaboration between whoever these guys are and Tartarus Records, which will press the six-song bit of presumed nastiness to tape and has preorders up now. I liked the last one, can’t hear anything that’ll make me change my mind so far, and look forward to the darkness to come. The harsher industrial stuff doesn’t always get me, but these guys hit a nerve. That’s about as straightforward as I can say it.
Suitably brutal artwork and the release info follow here, as per the PR wire:
All Are To Return – Enigmatic & Experimental Doom Duo Share New Song “Carceri”
The enigmatic duo known as All Are To Return have just revealed a new song from their forthcoming new EP “All Are To Return II”, which is now set for release on November 26th via Tartarus Records.
Born from enforced isolation, the duo’s first EP released in October last year, presented a noisy industrialized-doom carrying an experimental edge, measuring brutality with an urgent sense of dread. Precisely one year later, All Are To Return are ready to release a new EP simply titled “All Are To Return II” once again via Tartarus Records.
The EP is a reflection on the dynamics of space and confinement. The evolving compositions are harsh yet layered. There is nuance in expression – vocals responsive and confrontational, guitars cutting into dense synth drones, sparse melody erupting amidst pulsing noise. Pre-orders are now available at this location:https://shop.tartarusrecords.com/product/all-are-to-return-aatr-ii/
AATR II is tearing at walls and skin. Hear the ghosts of revolt stirring inside societal prisons. Haunted by the philosophies of power and control. No resignation.
Edition of 100 cassettes
Also available as shirt bundle.
1. Carceri 2. Surveiller et Punir 3. Classified 4. Postscript on the Societies of Control 5. De Profundis 6. Desiring Machines
