Austin’s Bridge Farmers have climbed the mountain of madness. They’ve ridden the road to oblivion. They’ve eaten the proverbial brown acid, with Cthulhu, in the eye of a hurricane. And, presumably a few days later, the psych-sludge rockers from the Lone Star State decided to document their experiences in the form of their second full-length, Cosmic Trigger, released through Olde Magick Records. It’s been some five years since their 2018 self-titled (discussed here), and some of the shifts in approach that the six songs/44 minutes of this follow-up long-player presents can be accounted for in adding guitarist Pete Brown to the band alongside guitarist/vocalist Tyler Hautala, bassist Garrett Carr and drummer Kyle Rice — I’m not certain how permanent that addition is, but what is permanence anyway when you’re melting the universe to so much transdimensional goo? — but not all of them.
The churning and psychedelic boogie of the nonetheless-noise-drenched, maybe-theremin-inclusive “Temple of Eris I” and the scorching and expansive space rock jam that ensues on “Temple of Eris II” can’t really be written off as just the difference having two guitars makes. Given the sound, it’s more likely the stratospheric drive came first and then the advent of Brown on guitar, but whatever did it, Bridge Farmers are a weirder band than they were half a decade ago — for what it’s worth, it was eight years from their 2010 debut, Din of Celestial Birds, to Bridge Farmers, so five years isn’t their longest divide, and they had other offerings in between — and that weirdness suits them delightfully.
The way Cosmic Trigger is structured is important to the fluidity within and between the six inclusions, which are set up in a pattern of three pairs of shorter and longer songs. To wit, the tracklisting, with runtimes:
1. Frater Achad (5:16)
2. Street Needles (10:06)
3. Temple of Eris I (4:28)
4. Temple of Eris II (8:10)
5. Dark Star (3:20)
6. Lynx (12:40)
From this we can see that Bridge Farmers — who produced Cosmic Trigger themselves with Daniel McNeill engineering and Tad Doyle (TAD, HogMolly, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth) mastering at Witch Ape Studios — approach their third album with a marked sense of purpose, and neither the pairings nor their succession one to the next feels haphazard. Blowing itself quickly out the airlock, the album launches with what might be its oldest song, as “Frater Achad” bass-lumbers into its noisy, vocal-echo-stretching procession, atmospherically vast and unrepentantly stoned in tone. That the song moves at all feels like a collective feat of strength for an early Festivus, but as gravitationally dense as it is, Hautala‘s shouts are loose, almost bluesy in their more melodic moments, and feel born out of some of the same impulse as earliest Monster Magnet, or a less-manic Ecstatic Vision, if you’d like a more modern example, and underneath part of the solo in the second half of “Frater Achad” there seems to be a layer of guitar that’s (maybe) just a pick hitting a string.
I don’t know if that’s actually part of the lead track or a complementary noise — there’s a drone like a mouth harp as well for a while and cacophony is the general idea so it’s hard to tell exactly — but it’s emblematic of the will to experiment, the manner in which the songs have been built up, and the open-mindedness/expanded-consciousness of the band generally. It’s like sludge rock macrodosing ketamine, numbing thought with an onslaught of swing ‘n’ swirl, and that’s before “Street Needles” takes hold to spend 10 minutes pondering what might’ve been if Electric Wizard and Unsane were the same band and they dropped a gallon of acid and rewrote Black Sabbath‘s “Black Sabbath” after jamming out its ultra-recognizable central riff for, I don’t know, six hours?
An almost-Looney Tunes wakeup guitar stretch starts “Temple of Eris I,” and the only direct two-parter on Cosmic Trigger proceeds to build itself up from there until at 1:45 into its 4:28 it can’t take it anymore and begins its outbound launch. Wah guitar, howls of something or other, a steady, righteous air push of bass, and a whole lot of acid wash takes hold and that is the course of the song right into its fade out, which is a surprise until “Temple of Eris II” walks that fade back up slowly, false ending-style. I think it’s guitar, but if you told me it was keys or actual sax, I’d believe you, but either way, it’s a lead where Hawkwind would’ve put the saxophone and it serves just as well in the early going, eventually becoming part of the overarching push, which turns past three and a half minutes in into comedown tom thud and circular trails of guitar.
But wait! As they head toward minute five, they start to give the impression they’re not done and with crash cymbal counting in, they start the thrusters anew and are off to interstellar glory once again, pushing past spiral galaxies left spinning like so many pinwheels in their wonderfully make-believe wake. “Dark Star” follows and regrounds immediately with thick but punkish bass, echoing shouts that could just as easily have been on a Ministry record in the ’90s and an entirely different kind of shove that slams into a wall before its first minute is done, staggers for a moment, then surges again, staggers again, and surges again, a last few lyrics arriving to check if you’re dizzy enough.
That leaves “Lynx” at the finish; the longest track and maybe also the farthest reaching, cosmic and mellow at first, with calmed vocals and an eventual tsunami wall of fuzz that swallows everything. From there the pace picks up to a dense-in-the-low-end, echo-shout-topped boogie, evens out to a desert rock riff with what sounds like a siren blaring from one channel to another, and a where-did-that-come-from revitalization of the space rock tap-tap-tap behind the riff. They resolve it in heavy psychedelic fashion, daring a bit of melody in the layering of guitar and maybe keys while remaining superficially furious until the tape runs out and they’re done for real.
They’ve reportedly got a fourth full-length currently at some stage of progress or other, so it may or may not be another five years before Bridge Farmers are next heard from. I won’t claim to know anything there or to have a guess at where they’re going sound-wise after sitting Cosmic Trigger next to Bridge Farmers and experiencing the acid noise of these tracks, but whether another long-player manifests this year, next year, or in 2028, or never, that does nothing to undercut either the redirect Bridge Farmers have undertaken stylistically or the multifaceted take that’s resulted from it.
In being sort of all-over-the-place while making sense in its own context, “Lynx” is a fitting capper for the album as a whole; it may not encapsulate the full range of ground they trod, but it’s got a goodly portion of it, and in the sure-footed manner of its going it is analogous to the record itself. Even if you emerge from Cosmic Trigger wondering what the hell just happened, rest assured, you’re doing it right. So are they. Just go back, listen again, and let the math work itself out.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 18th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
I don’t feel the need to even really say anything here. The lineup speaks for itself. And those who go to this year’s RippleFest Texas will also speak of it, for years, probably in a similar way people now talk about having been at this or that Emissions From the Monolith when that was going on in Ohio. The stuff of legend, in other words. Yeah, you can put on a fest and try to make it cool and fun, or you can do something like this and make it the highlight of everybody who attends’ year.
Kudos to Lick of My Spoon Productions and Ripple Music on a job well done. This will be something special. Bands have been leaked out one at a time at intermittent daily intervals, but the final lineup is out as of today, and it’s stunning. A blend of generations, a reach from on end of the country to the other, and a swath of the heavy underground all rallied in one place for a few days, pre- and after-parties included. Fucking a. If you’re attending, count yourself lucky.
As seen on socials:
Here it is! The full lineup for RippleFest Texas #3! This will be one for the ages with a stacked lineup and lots of special treats in between. Get your tickets now!
Amazing art by @1horsetown
* playing the Pre-Party + playing the Afterparty
King Buffalo, Acid King, Brant Bjork Trio, Sasquatch, Wo-Fat, Fatso Jetson, Mondo Generator, Unida, The Well+, The Atomic Bitchwax, Telekinetic Yeti*, Duel, Forming the Void, Hippie Death Cult, High Desert Queen*, Avon, War Cloud, Rubber Snake Charmers, Spirit Mother+, Kind, Nick Oliveri, Thunder Horse, Royal Sons+, Restless Spirit*, (Big) Pig, Fostermother, Dead Feathers+, Rainbows Are Free, Warlung*, Sun Voyager, Red Mesa, Dunes, Tia Carrera+, Mr. Plow, The Heroine*, Michael Rudolph Cummings, The Absurd+, GoodEye*, Red Beard Wall, God Damn Good Time Band+
Plus a “Legends of the Desert and Friends” jam session to close out Saturday night!
And as always, the visuals by The Mad Alchemist Liquid Light Show
All-Access passes are SOLD OUT! All we have left are 2 Day Passes and Pre/Afterparty tickets available. Many more bands to be announced! Get your tickets now before the full lineup is revealed and the ticket price goes up!
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 11th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Gotta figure it’s a pretty good week to be in Thunder Horse. You’re still traveling in the UK from Texas after taking part in Desertfest, uh, festivities this past weekend, and now you’re announcing the July release of your third record and the single is a banger and preorders went up without the internet collapsing on itself, so yes, mark it a win for those dudes, presumably.
Last heard from with 2021’s Chosen One (review here), the band present “New Normal” as the first single from the forthcoming After the Fall which is out July 21, and it finds them returning with a big riff and the vocals of Stephen Bishop that portray his and the band’s rooted influence in industrial music. As Thunder Horse are decidedly not that, Bishop‘s approach has to-date helped to give the band a distinct aspect, and in that regard, the “New Normal” isn’t so radically changed from the old normal. Not a complaint.
You can hear the song at the bottom of the post, as ever. Info follows from the PR wire:
US doom metal merchants THUNDER HORSE to release new album “After The Fall” this July on Ripple Music; watch new video “New Normal”!
San Antonio-based doom metal foursome THUNDER HORSE announce the release of their third full-length “After The Fall” this July 21st on Ripple Music, and unveil the first single with their crushing “New Normal” video today!
Watch Thunder Horse’s new video “New Normal” Listen to the song on all streaming platforms:https://lnk.to/thnewnormal
Texas-based THUNDER HORSE has a genre that is hard to pin down, but there are definitely influences of doom, psych, occult, and a smattering of classic rock and NWOBHM. Close your eyes and imagine the brooding sounds of early Sabbath, the massive wall of guitars made famous by bands like Deep Purple and Mountain, on a sonically mesmerizing Pink Floyd Trip, then you will have a taste of the experience that Thunder Horse brings.
Their third studio album and second Ripple Music release “After The Fall” cements the band’s reputation of delivering titan-sized songs in the form of a refined formula: doomier, sharper, but also stronger. Finding the perfect balance between their timeless and masterful southern-baked heavy metal and a strongly emotion-driven purpose, “After The Fall” unwaveringly stands as THUNDER HORSE’s turning point and should drag more and more heavy music lovers in their path in their fierce conquest of the underground doom scene!
THUNDER HORSE “After The Fall” Out July 21st on Ripple Music
Hey there and welcome back to the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review. Today I’ve got another 10-record batch for your perusal, and if you’ve never been to this particular party before, it’s part of an ongoing series this site does every couple months (you might say quarterly), and this week picks up from yesterday as well as a couple weeks ago, when another 70 records of various types were covered. If there’s a lesson to be learned from all of it, it’s that we live in a golden age of heavy music, be it metal, rock, doom, sludge, psych, prog, noise or whathaveyou. Especially for whathaveyou.
So here we are, you and I, exploring the explorations in these many works and across a range of styles. As always, I hope you find something that feels like it’s speaking directly to you. For what it’s worth, I didn’t even make it through the first 10 of the 50 releases to be covered this week yesterday without ordering a CD from Bandcamp, so I’m here in a spirit of learning too. We’ll go together and dive back in.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Smokey Mirror, Smokey Mirror
Those in the know will tell you that the vintage-sound thing is over, everybody’s a goth now, blah blah heavygaze. That sounds just fine with Dallas, Texas, boogie rockers Smokey Mirror, who on their self-titled Rise Above Records first LP make their shuffle a party in “Invisible Hand” and the class-conscious “Pathless Forest” even before they dig into the broader jam of the eight-minute “Magick Circle,” panning the solos in call and response, drum solo, softshoe groove, full on whatnot. Meanwhile, “Alpha-State Dissociative Trance” would be glitch if it had a keyboard on it, a kind of math rock from 1972, and its sub-three-minute stretch is followed by the acoustic guitar/harmonica folk blues of “Fried Vanilla Super Trapeze” and the heavy fuzz resurgence of “Sacrificial Altar,” which is long like “Magick Circle” but with more jazz in its winding jam and more of a departure into it (four minutes into the total 7:30 if you’re wondering), while the Radio Moscow-style smooth bop and rip of “A Thousand Days in the Desert” and shred-your-politics of “Who’s to Say” act as touch-ground preface for the acoustic noodle and final hard strums of “Recurring Nightmare,” as side B ends in mirror to side A. An absolute scorcher of a debut and all the more admirable for wearing its politics on its sleeve where much heavy rock hides safe behind its “I’m not political” whiteness, Smokey Mirror‘s Smokey Mirror reminds that, every now and again, those in the know don’t know shit. Barnburner heavy rock and roll forever.
Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows, Hail to the Underground
The moral of the story is that the members of Melbourne’s Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows — may they someday be famous enough that I won’t feel compelled to point out that none of them is Jack; the lineup is comprised of vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, guitarist Jordan Richardson, bassist Liam Barry and drummer Josh McCombe — came up in the ’90s, or at least in the shadow thereof. Hail to the Underground collects eight covers in 35 minutes and is the Aussie rockers’ first outing for Blues Funeral, following two successful albums in 2018’s Hymns and 2021’s The Magnetic Ridge (review here), and while on paper it seems like maybe it’s the result of just-signed-gotta-get-something-out motivation, the takes on tunes by Aussie rockers God, the Melvins, Butthole Surfers, My Bloody Valentine and Joy Division (their “Day of Lords” is a nodding highlight) rest organically alongside the boogie blues of “Roll & Tumble” (originally by Hambone Willie Newbern), the electrified surge of Bauhaus‘ “Dark Entries” and the manic peaks of “Eye Shaking King” by Amon Düül II. It’s not the triumphant, moment-of-arrival third full-length one awaits — and it would be soon for it to be, but it’s how the timing worked with the signing — but Hail to the Underground adds complexity to the narrative of the band’s sound in communing with Texan acid noise, country blues from 1929 to emo and goth rock icons in a long-player’s span, and it’ll certainly keep the fire burning until the next record gets here.
Minimalist in social media presence (though on YouTube and Bandcamp, streaming services, etc.), Sardinian one-man outfit Noorag — also stylized all-lowercase: noorag — operates at the behest of multi-instrumentalist/producer Federico “WalkingFred” Paretta, and with drums by Daneiele Marcia, the project’s debut EP, Fossils, collects seven short pieces across 15 minutes that’s punk in urgency, sans-vocal in the execution, sludged in tone, metallic in production, and adventurous in some of its time changes. Pieces like the ambient opener “Hhon” and “Amanita Shot,” which follows headed on the quick into the suitably stomping “Brachiopod” move easily between each other since the songs themselves are tied together through their instrumental approach and relatively straightforward arrangements. “Cochlea Stone” is a centerpiece under two minutes long with emphasis rightfully on the bass, while “Ritual Electric” teases the stonershuggah nuance in the groove of “Acid Apricot”‘s second half, and the added “Digital Cave” roughs up the recording while maybe or maybe not actually being the demo it claims to be. Are those drums programmed? We may never know, but at a quarter of an hour long, it’s not like Noorag are about to overstay their welcome. Fitting for the EP format as a way to highlight its admirable intricacy, Fossils feels almost ironically fresh and sounds like the beginning point of a broader progression. Here’s hoping.
With the notable exceptions of six-minute opener “Era” and the 8:36 “Uhtceare” with the gradual build to its explosion into the “Stones From the Sky” moment that’s a requisite for seemingly all post-metal acts to utilize at least once (they turn it into a lead later, which is satisfying), Sweden’s KOLLAPS\E — oh your pesky backslash — pair their ambient stretches with stately, shout-topped declarations of riff that sound like early Isis with the clarity of production and intent of later Isis, which is a bigger difference than it reads. The layers of guttural vocals at the forefront of “Anaemia” add an edge of extremity offset by the post-rock float of the guitar, and “Bränt Barn Skyr Elden” (‘burnt child dreads the fire,’ presumably a Swedish aphorism) answers by building tension subtly in its first two minutes before going full-barrage atmosludge for the next as it, “Anaemia,” and the closing pair of “Radiant Static” and “Murrain” harness short-song momentum on either side of four minutes long — something the earlier “Beautiful Desolate” hinted at between “Era” and “Uhtceare” — to capture a distinct flow for side B and giving the ending of “Murrain” its due as a culmination for the entire release. Crushing or spacious or both when it wants to be, Phantom Centre is a strong, pandemic-born debut that looks forward while showing both that it’s schooled in its own genre and has begun to decide which rules it wants to break.
Healthyliving, Songs of Abundance, Psalms of Grief
A multinational conglomerate that would seem to be at least partially assembled in Edinburg, Scotland, Healthyliving — also all-lowercase: healthyliving — offer folkish melodicism atop heavy atmospheric rock for a kind of more-present-than-‘gaze-implies feel that is equal parts meditative, expansive and emotive on their debut full-length, Songs of Abundance, Psalms of Grief. With the vocals of Amaya López-Carromero (aka Maud the Moth) given a showcase they more than earn via performance, multi-instrumentalist Scott McLean (guitar, bass, synth) and drummer Stefan Pötzsch are able to conjure the scene-setting heft of “Until,” tap into grunge strum with a gentle feel on “Bloom” or meander into outright crush with ambient patience on “Galleries” (a highlight) or move through the intensity of “To the Gallows,” the unexpected surge in the bridge of “Back to Back” or the similarly structured but distinguished through the vocal layering and melancholic spirit of the penultimate “Ghost Limbs” with a long quiet stretch before closer “Obey” wraps like it’s raking leaves in rhythm early and soars on a strident groove that caps with impact and sprawl. They are not the only band operating in this sphere of folk-informed heavy post-rock by any means, but as their debut, this nine-song collection pays off the promise of their 2021 two-songer Until/Below (review here) and heralds things to come both beautiful and sad.
Even before Vermont freak-psych two-piece MV & EE — Matt Valentine and Erika Elder, both credited with a whole bunch of stuff including, respectively, ‘the real deal’ and ‘was’ — are nestled into the organic techno jam of 19-minute album opener “Free Range,” their Green Ark full-length has offered lush lysergic hypnosis via an extended introductory drone. Far more records claim to go anywhere than actually do, but the funky piano of “No Money” and percussion and wah dream-disco of “Dancin’,” with an extra-fun keyboard line late, set up the 20-minute “Livin’ it Up,” in a way that feels like surefooted experimentalism; Elder and Valentine exploring these aural spaces with the confidence of those who’ve been out wandering across more than two decades’ worth of prior occasions. That is to say, “Livin’ it Up” is comfortable as it engages with its own unknown self, built up around a bass line and noodly solo over a drum machine with hand percussion accompanying, willfully repetitive like the opener in a way that seems to dig in and then dig in again. The 10-minute “Love From Outer Space” and nine-minute mellow-psych-but-for-the-keyboard-beat-hitting-you-in-the-face-and-maybe-a-bit-of-play-around-that-near-the-end “Rebirth” underscore the message that the ‘out there’ is the starting point rather than the destination for MV & EE, but that those brave enough to go will be gladly taken along.
Israeli trio The Great Machine — brothers Aviran Haviv (bass/vocals) and Omer Haviv (guitar/vocals) as well as drummer/vocalist Michael Izaky — find a home on Noisolution for their fifth full-length in nine years, Funrider, trading vocal duties back and forth atop songs that pare down some of the jammier ideology of 2019’s less-than-ideally-titled Greatestits, still getting spacious in side-A ender “Pocketknife” and the penultimate “Some Things Are Bound to Fail,” which is also the longest inclusion at 6:05. But the core of Funrider is in the quirk and impact of rapid-fire cuts like “Zarathustra” and “Hell & Back” at the outset, the Havivs seeming to trade vocal duties throughout to add to the variety as the rumble before the garage-rock payoff of “Day of the Living Dead” gives over to the title-track or that fuzzier take moves into “Pocketknife.” Acoustic guitar starts “Fornication Under the Consent of the King” but it becomes sprinter Europunk bombast before its two minutes are done, and with the rolling “Notorious” and grungeminded “Mountain She” ripping behind, the most unifying factor throughout Funrider is its lack of predictability. That’s no minor achievement for a band on their fifth record making a shift in their approach after a decade together, but the desert rocking “The Die” that closes with a rager snuck in amid the chug is a fitting summary of the trio’s impressive creative reach.
Following-up their 2017 debut, Stoner Circus, Austrian trio Swanmay offer seven songs and 35 minutes of new material with the self-issued Frantic Feel, finding their foundation in the bass work of Chris Kaderle and Niklas Lueger‘s drumming such that Patrick Àlvaro‘s ultra-fuzzed guitar has as strong a platform to dance all over as possible. Vocals in “The Art of Death” are suitably drunk-sounding (which doesn’t actually hurt it), but “Mashara” and “Cats and Snails” make a rousing opening salvo of marked tonal depth and keep-it-casual stoner saunter, soon also to be highlighted in centerpiece “Blooze.” On side B, “Stone Cold” feels decidedly more like it has its life together, and “Old Trails” tightens the reins from there in terms of structure, but while closer “Dead End” stays fuzzy and driving like the two songs before, the noise quotient is upped significantly by the time it’s done, and that brings back some of the looser swing of “Mashara” or “The Art of Death.” But when Swanmay want to be — and that’s not all the time, to their credit — they are massively heavy, and they put that to raucous use with a production that is accordingly loud and vibrant. Seems simple reading a paragraph, maybe, but the balance they strike in these songs is a difficult one, and even if it’s just for the guitar and bass tones, Frantic Feel demands an audience.
“Death will come swiftly to those who are weak,” goes the crooning verse lyric from Garden of Ash‘s “Death Valley” at the outset of the young Edmonton, Alberta, trio’s self-titled, self-released debut full-length. Bassist Kristina Hunszinger delivers the line with due severity, but the Witch Mountain-esque slow nod and everybody-dies lyrics of “A Cautionary Tale” show more of the tongue-in-cheek point of view of the lyrics. The plot thickens — or at very least hits harder — when the self-recorded outing’s metallic production style is considered. In the drums of Levon Vokins — who also provides backing vocals as heard on “Roses” and elsewhere — the (re-amped) guitar of Zach Houle and even in the mostly-sans-effects presentation of Hunszinger‘s vocals as well as their placement at the forefront of the mix, it’s heavy metal more than heavy rock, but as Vokins takes lead vocals in “World on Fire” with Hunszinger joining for the chorus, the riff is pure boogie and the earlier “Amnesia” fosters doomly swing, so what may in the longer term be a question of perspective is yet unanswered in terms of are they making the sounds they want to and pushing into trad metal genre tenets, or is it just a matter of getting their feet under them as a new band? I don’t know, but songs and performance are both there, so this first full-length does its job in giving Garden of Ash something from which to move forward while serving notice to those with ears to hear them. Either way, the bonus track “Into the Void” is especially notable for not being a Black Sabbath cover, and by the time they get there, that’s not at all the first surprise to be had.
Checking in at one second less and 15 minutes flat, “The Bends” is the first release from Milwaukee-based three-piece Tidal, and it’s almost immediately expansive. With shades of El Paraiso-style jazz psych, manipulated samples and hypnotic drone at its outset, the first two minutes build into a wash with mellow keys/guitar effects (whatever, it sounds more like sax and they’re all credited with ‘noise,’ so I’m doing my best here) and it’s not until Sam Wallman‘s guitar steps forward out of the ambience surrounding at nearly four minutes deep that Alvin Vega‘s drums make their presence known. Completed by Max Muenchow‘s bass, which righteously holds the core while Wallman airs out, the roll is languid and more patient than one would expect for a first-release jam, but there’s a pickup and Tidal do get raucous as “The Bends” moves into its midsection, scorching for a bit until they quiet down again, only to reemerge at 11:10 from the ether of their own making with a clearheaded procession to carry them through the crescendo and to the letting-go-now drift of echo that caps. I hear tell they’ve got like an hour and a half of this stuff recorded and they’re going to release them one by one. They picked an intriguing one to start with as the layers of drone and noise help fill out the otherwise empty space in the instrumental jam without being overwrought or sacrificing the spontaneous nature of the track. Encouraging start. Will be ready when the next jam hits.
Posted in Questionnaire on May 4th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Mark Kitchens of Slow Draw, Stone Machine Electric & Heavy Mash Fest
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I’ve always considered myself a noise maker, maybe even an explorer. Since I was a child, I always enjoyed sounds and music. I like to find things sonically in music or in everyday sounds.
Describe your first musical memory.
I can’t remember exactly, but it seemed to involved looking at catalogs and picking out albums. It may have been the whole Columbia House thing or something like that. I remember picking out 8-tracks since we had that style player back at that time. I think I picked out The Best of the Statler Brothers because I thought it was funny the cover had women on it and thought they were the musicians. I was 6 or so years old at the time.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Seeing Phish in 1998 or so. You’d think I’d remember the year, but I don’t. It was an outdoor concert in Austin, Texas. I ended up leaving my group of friends and got to one side of the soundboard area. I just remember getting lost in the sea of people and just enjoying the music and the back and forth between the crowd and the band. It was a communal type energy, and it was fun and mentally freeing.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Nothing comes to mind. I’ve had people test my beliefs in who they are, which is greatly surprising when you thought you knew them. As far as beliefs is general, I try my best to keep those based on experience or first hand knowledge so when something does get tested, I have an easier time accepting it. I don’t want to hold onto something based on what I want it to be if it is not what it is. I hope that makes sense.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Artistic progression leads to many things. For me, most of the time it seems to lead to a refined or more distinct path or art. On the other hand, I have had it take me back to where I started, and it becomes cyclical.
How do you define success?
Being happy with the result of my art and music. For my music, if it makes me listen to it over and over because I have captured some sort of memory or emotion in it, then I have succeeded.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
My wife’s internal organs. Our children were both C-section babies. On my first born when the nurse took the baby out, they had me follow them. As I walked towards them, I looked back at Lynda, and all I saw was them putting her parts and pieces back in. That was surreal and gross at the same time. [Hard relate to this. It’s medieval. — ed.]
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I’ve started saving dumb little phrases in my phone that I’d like to eventually run into songs. I’m talking 5-10 second long songs. I could see it being an album of about 20-25 songs, and it might top like 5 minutes of play time. I imagine it would sound more like a ton of shitty jingles than anything else. Maybe I could title it “Songs for the Internet” or something stupid like that.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Communication and community. Almost everything can be considered an artform in some fashion, and that brings people together, or at least within the same vicinity. This creates communities and communities that overlap.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Guess there are two things. Looking forward to celebrating 23 years of marriage in the next couple of weeks with the Mrs., and kind of still musical as we’ll be seeing The Cure on our anniversary. That’s her all-time favorite band.
Posted in Questionnaire on May 1st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Mario Rodriguez, Tyler Davis & Caleb Hollowed from Smokey Mirror
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How did you come to do what you do?
Tyler Davis: Years and years of the universe and myself always pushing me to where I am today.
Mario Rodriguez: I fell in love with music at a young age. As a child my mother exposed me to soul, my father exposed me to classic rock, and my sister exposed me to metal. At age 9 I began exploring music for myself and started actively seeking out sounds that excited me. At age 12 I started playing guitar and at age 13 I played my first club show. I played in bands on and off throughout high school and began pursuing music more seriously after graduation. By age 20 Tyler and I formed Smokey Mirror.
Caleb Hollowed: I started playing music with friends in middle school and by the time I was 18 I started looking for gigs. I grew up listening to bands like The Allman Brothers, Jimi Hendrix, and other classic groups. I knew in my heart that’s what I was meant to do, no question.
Describe your first musical memory.
Tyler: MTV in the 90s and Soul Train reruns were big for me as a kid. But listening to my grandfathers Bob Wills and Willie Nelson records, or learning about ZZ Top listening to Q102 at home in Dallas with my dad are some of my happiest early musical memories.
Mario: My earliest memories are hearing Luther Vandross and Teddy Pendergrass with my mom. I also have early memories of hearing Santana and The Beatles with my dad.
Caleb: My mother listening to “CSNY – Deja Vu” on an old tape. Still love that group so much! Also the sound of Patsy Cline’s voice is prevalent in my early memories. I remember my mom making me two step with her in our family kitchen to old country songs.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Tyler: Witnessing George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic perform in Dallas 2012, or performing with Smokey Mirror in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico on my 27th birthday.
Mario: My best musical memories are seeing Motörhead in 2009 and B.B. King in 2013. I’ll never forget how it felt to be in their presence.
Caleb: Seeing Dickie Betts with The Allman Brothers Band has to be my top musical memory.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Tyler: Any time living a life creating and playing music gets tough or complicated, we’re forced to come to terms with why we do what we do, which is serving something higher than ourselves.
Mario: When I was in my teens and early twenties I accepted a lot of mistreatment from former bandmates for the sake of being involved in a project that I’d poured a lot of time, effort, and resources into. Eventually I realized that nothing was worth compromising my dignity, so I started over from square one and formed Smokey Mirror with bandmates who are both kind and mutually respectful. In the end I learned an invaluable lesson.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Tyler: Hopefully towards true clarity and whole, honest expression of self while being considerate of but not controlled by external circumstances.
Mario: Ideally, artistic progression leads to a never-ending journey of self discovery. It’s a gift that keeps on giving, forever into eternity.
Caleb: To a true sense of self. It may never lead to anywhere, just a long journey that never ends. People change, so does artistic expression.
How do you define success?
Tyler: Feeling content with your legacy, when we depart we can’t take things only leave them.
Mario: I also define success as contentment with one’s legacy. I’d also add that success can be measured by the greatness one inspires in others.
Caleb: Being pleased with something you’ve created or been apart of.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Tyler: Witnessing the realities of working in the US healthcare system was kind of a bummer, but anything we can learn from isn’t a total loss.
Mario: I’ve seen a lot of talented, promising musicians allow their pride and poor self control to stunt their musical growth.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
Tyler: Album #2 and 3!!!
Mario: Albums #2 and #3 for sure! Also maybe a catapult that can be used to launch all the world’s billionaires into the sun.
Caleb: There’s so much, but I guess I’d like to do more vocally driven songs with 3-4 part harmonies.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Tyler: Traveling and experiencing the world outside of the US, whether touring with Smokey or on vacation with my dog and girlfriend
Mario: I’m looking forward to traveling Costa Rica with my girlfriend later this year.
Caleb: I love nature. Last year I was supposed to go to Yellowstone with my dad, but there was a lot of rain that caused the roads to wash away, BS you might remember from the news. I think we’ll try it again this year after Smokey is back from tour.
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 25th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
This is part of why hosting festivals is a good idea — because bands need to get there. And no, it’s not declining cognition (this week), I do remember that it was only yesterday I posted the Red Mesa version of this tour announcement, but you know, Houston’s Doomstress have some dates that aren’t with Red Mesa on here — both play Maryland Doom Fest, which is the occasion for their being on the road, hence the point in the first sentence; fests make things happen in the ecosystem, not just in themselves — and Red Mesa had some dates that weren’t with Doomstress, and both acts have other stuff going on too. To wit, Doomstress are booked two days to record while they’re in Ohio. So I didn’t think anyone would complain about six shows, including MDDF, being listed twice. In fact, I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t mentioning it right now, no one would even blink.
So yeah, maybe it’s business as usual, but right on to these bands getting out and even more right on to Doomstress doing some recording. I asked guitarist/vocalist Doomstress Alexis what they had planned for the studio — two days isn’t much if they’re making a whole album, but it’s not impossible to at least do live-recorded basic tracks to take home and work on; get those drums down in a big room and you can do anything; all depends on process — like five minutes ago, so no, I haven’t heard back yet, but when/if I do I’ll update the below with that info as well. Maybe it’s a secret. Those are fun too sometimes.
Poster and dates follow:
Doomstress & Red Mesa will be touring together in June to play Maryland Doom Fest.
Doomstress will also be spending 2 days recording some new material at Supernatural Sound while in Ohio.
Looking forward to getting back to it after a lengthy break from the road.
Doomstress live: FRIDAY JUNE 16 SAN ANTONIO, TX LIGHTHOUSE LOUNGE w/ Cortege, Red Beard Wall, Red Mesa SATURDAY JUNE 17 HOUSTON, TX BLACK MAGIC SOCIAL CLUB w/ Red Mesa SUNDAY JUNE 18 ARLINGTON, TX DIVISION BREWING w/ Red Mesa, Stone Machine Electric, Pathos and Logos MONDAY JUNE 19 MEMPHIS, TN THE HI TONE w/ Red Mesa, Deaf Revival WEDNESDAY JUNE 21 ASHEVILLES, NC THE ODD BAR w/ Red Mesa, Bonedozer THURSDAY JUNE 22 FREDERICK, MD MARYLAND DOOM FEST FRIDAY JUNE 23 CLEVELAND,OH FIVE O’CLOCK LOUNGE MONDAY JUNE 26 LOUISVILLE KY HIGHLANDS TAP ROOM
Doomstress is: Doomstress Alexis (bass&vox) Brandon Johnson & Matt Taylor (lead/rhythm gtrs).
Posted in Reviews on April 10th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Welcome to the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review. Between today and next Tuesday, a total of 70 records will be covered with a follow-up week slated for May bringing that to 120. Rest assured, it’ll be plenty. If you’re reading this, I feel safe assuming you know the deal: 10 albums per day from front to back, ranging in style, geography, type of release — album, EP, singles even, etc. — and the level of hype and profile surrounding. The Quarterly Review is always a massive undertaking, but I’ve never done one and regretted it later, and looking at what’s coming up across the next seven days, there are more than few records featured that are already on my ongoing best of 2023 list. So please, keep an eye and ear out, and hopefully you’ll also find something new that speaks to you.
We begin.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
ISAAK, Hey
Last heard from as regards LPs with 2015’s Serominize (review here) and marking 10 years since their 2013 debut under the name, The Longer the Beard the Harder the Sound (review here), Genoa-based heavy rockers ISAAK return with the simply-titled Hey and encapsulate the heads-up fuzz energy that’s always been at the core of their approach. Vocalist Giacomo H. Boeddu has hints of Danzig in “OBG” and the swing-shoving “Sleepwalker” later on, but whether it’s the centerpiece Wipers cover “Over the Edge,” the rolling “Dormhouse” that follows, or the melodic highlight “Rotten” that precedes, the entire band feel cohesive and mature in their purposeful songwriting. They’re labelmates and sonic kin to Texas’ Duel, but less bombastic, with a knife infomercial opening their awaited third record before the title-track and “OBG” begin to build the momentum that carries the band through their varied material, spacious on “Except,” consuming in the apex of “Fake it Till You Make It,” but engaging throughout in groove and structure.
With doom in their collective heart and riffs to spare, UK doom metal traditionalists Iron Void roll out a weighted 44 minutes across the nine songs of their fourth full-length, IV, seeming to rail against pandemic-era restrictions in “Grave Dance” and tech culture in “Slave One” while “Pandora’s Box” rocks out Sabbathian amid the sundry anxieties of our age. Iron Void have been around for 25 years as of 2023 — like a British Orodruin or trad-doom more generally, they’ve been undervalued for most of that time — and their songwriting earns the judgmental crankiness of its perspective, but each half of the LP gets a rousing closer in “Blind Dead” and “Last Rites,” and Iron Void doom out like there’s no tomorrow even on the airier “She” because, as we’ve seen in the varying apocalypses since the band put out 2018’s Excalibur (review here), there might not be. So much the better to dive into the hook of “Living on the Earth” or the grittier “Lords of the Wasteland,” the metal-of-yore sensibility tapping into early NWOBHM without going full-Maiden. Kind of a mixed bag, it might take a few listens to sink in, but IV shows the enduring strengths of Iron Void and is clearly meant more for those repeat visits than some kind of cloying immediacy. An album to be lived with and doomed with.
An offering of thickened, massive lava-flow sludge, plodding doom and atmospheric severity, Dread Witch‘s self-released (not for long, one suspects) first long-player, Tower of the Severed Serpent, announces a significant arrival on the part of the onslaught-prone Danish outfit, who recorded as a trio, play live as a five-piece and likely need at least that many people to convey the density of a song like the opener/longest track (immediate points) “The Tower,” the eight minutes of which are emblematic of the force of execution with which the band delivers the rest of what follows, runtimes situated longest to shortest across the near-caustic chug of “Serpent God,” the Celtic Frost-y declarations and mega-riff ethos of “Leech,” the play between key-led minimalism and all-out stomp on “Wormtongue” and the earlier-feeling noise intensity of “Into the Crypt” before the more purely ambient but still heavy instrumental “Severed” wraps, conveying weight of emotion to complement the tonal tectonics prior. Bordering on the extreme and clearly enjoying the crush that doing so affords them, Dread Witch make more of a crater than an impression and would be outright barbaric were their sound not so methodical in immersing the audience. Pro sound, loaded with potential, heavy as shit; these are the makings of a welcome debut.
Next-generation heavy fuzz purveyed with particular glee, Tidal Wave seem to explore the very reaches they conjure through verses and choruses on their eight-song Ripple Music label debut (second LP overall behind 2019’s Blueberry Muffin), The Lord Knows, and they make the going fun throughout the 41-minute outing, finding the shuffle in the shove of “Robbero Bobbero” while honing classic desert idolatry on “Lizard King” and “End of the Line” at the outset. What a relief it is to know that heavy rock and roll won’t die with the aging-out of so many of its Gen-X and Millennial purveyors, and as Tidal Wave step forward with the low-end semi-metal roll of “Pentagram” and the grander spaces of “By Order of the King” before “Purple Bird” returns to the sands and “Thorsakir” meets that on an open field of battle, it seems the last word has not been said on Tidal Wave in terms of aesthetic. They’ve got time to continue to push deeper into their craft — and maybe that will or won’t result in their settling on one path or another — but the range of moods on The Lord Knows suits them well, and without pretense or overblown ceremony the Sundsvall four-piece bring together elements of classic heavy rock and metal while claiming a persona that can move back and forth between them. Kind of the ideal for a younger band.
Persistently weird in the mold of Arthur Brown with unpredictability as a defining feature, Guided Meditation Doomjazz may mostly be a cathartic salve for founding bassist, vocalist, experimentalist, etc.-ist Blaise the Seeker, but that hardly makes the expression any less valid. Expect arrives as a five-song EP, ready to meander in the take-the-moniker-literally “Collapse in Dignity” and the fuzz-drenched slow-plod finisher “Sit in Surrender” — watery psychedelic guitar weaving overhead like a cloud you can reshape with your mind — that devolves into drone and noise, but not unstructured and not without intention behind even its most out-there moments. The bluesy sway of “The Mind is Divided” follows the howling scene-setting of the titular opener, while “Stream of Crystal Water” narrates its verse over crunchier riffing before the sung chorus-of-sorts, the overarching dug-in sensibility conveying some essence of what seems despite a prolific spate of releases to be an experience intended for a live setting, with all the one-on-one mind-expansion and arthouse performance that inevitably coincides with it. Still, with a rough-feeling production, Expect carries a breadth that makes communing with it that much easier. Go on, dare to get lost for a little while. See where you end up.
II is the vocalized follow-up to Cancervo‘s 2021 debut, 1 (review here), and finds the formerly-instrumental Lombardy, Italy, three-piece delving further into the doomed aspects of the initial offering with a greater clarity on “Arera,” “Herdsman of Grem” and “The Cult of Armentarga,” letting some of the psychedelia of the first record go while maintaining enough of an atmosphere to be hypnotic as the vocals follow the marching rhythm as the latter track moves into its midsection or the rhythmic chains in the subsequent “Devil’s Coffin” (an instrumental) lock step with the snare in a floating, loosely-Eastern-scaled break before the bigger-sounding end. Between “Devil’s Coffin” and the feedback-prone also-instrumental “Zambla” ahead of 8:43 closer “Zambel’s Goat” — on which the vocals return in a first-half of subdued guitar-led doomjamming prior to the burst moment at 4:49 — II goes deeper as it plays through and is made whole by its meditative feel, some semblance of head-trip cult doom running alongside, but if it’s a cult it’s one with its own mythology. Not where one expected them to go after 1, but that’s what makes it exciting, and that they lay claim to arrangement flourish, chanting vocals and slogging tempos as they do bodes well for future exploration.
So heavy it crashed my laptop. Twice. The second full-length from Mumbai post-metallers Dirge is a self-titled four-songer that culls psychedelia from tonal tectonics, not contrasting the two but finding depth in the ways they can interact. Mixed by Sanford Parker, the longer-form pieces comprise a single entirety without seeming to have been written as one long track, the harsh vocals of Tabish Khidir adding urgency to the guitar work of Ashish Dharkar and Varun Patil (the latter also backing vocals) as bassist Harshad Bhagwat and drummer Aryaman Chatterji underscore and punctuate the chugging procession of opener “Condemned” that’s offset if not countermanded by its quieter stretch. If you’re looking for your “Stones From the Sky”-moment as regards riffing, it’s in the 12-minute second cut, “Malignant,” the bleak triumph of which spills over in scream-topped angularity into “Grief” (despite a stop) while the latter feels all the more massive for its comedown moments. In another context, closer “Hollow” might be funeral doom, but it’s gorgeous either way, and it fits with the other three tracks in terms of its interior claustrophobia and thoughtful aggression. They’re largely playing toward genre tenets, but Dirge‘s gravity in doing so is undeniable, and the space they create is likewise dark and inviting, if not for my own tech.
Witch Ripper‘s sophomore LP and Magnetic Eye label-debut, The Flight After the Fall, touches on anthemic prog rock and metal with heavy-toned flourish and plenty of righteous burl in cuts like “Madness and Ritual Solitude” and the early verses of “The Obsidian Forge,” though the can-sing vocals of guitarists Chad Fox and Curtis Parker and bassist Brian Kim — drummer Joe Eck doesn’t get a mic but has plenty to do anyhow — are able to push that centerpiece and the rest of what surrounds over into the epic at a measure’s notice. Or not, which only makes Witch Ripper more dynamic en route to the 16:45 sprawling finish of “Everlasting in Retrograde Parts 1 and 2,” picking up from the lyrics of the leadoff “Enter the Loop” to put emphasis on the considered nature of the release as a whole, which is a showcase of ambition in songwriting as much as performance of said songs, conceptual reach and moments of sheer pummel. It’s been well hyped, and by the time “Icarus Equation” soars into its last chorus without its wings melting, it’s easy to hear why in the fullness of its progressive heft and melodic theatricality. It’s not a minor undertaking at 47 minutes, but it wouldn’t be a minor undertaking if it was half that, given the vastness of Witch Ripper‘s sound. Be ready to travel with it.
In stated narrative conversation with the Arabic influence on Spanish and greater Western European (read: white) culture, specifically in this case as regards the work of Persian philosopher Ibn Sina, Parisian self-releasing three-piece Pelegrin follow-up 2019’s Al-Mahruqa (review here) with the expansive six songs of Ways of Avicenna, with guitarist/vocalist François Roze de Gracia, bassist/backing vocalist Jason Recoing and drummer/percussionist Antoine Ebel working decisively to create a feeling of space not so much in terms of the actual band in the room, but of an ancient night sky on songs like “Madrassa” and the rolling heavy prog solo drama of the later “Mystical Appear,” shades of doom and psychedelia pervasive around the central riff-led constructions, the folkish middles of “Thunderstorm” and “Reach for the Sun” and the acoustic two-minute “Disgrace” a preface to the patient manner in which the trio feel their way into the final build of closer “Forsaken Land.” I’m neither a historical scholar nor a philosopher, and thankfully the album doesn’t require you to be, but Pelegrin could so easily tip over into the kind of cartoonish cultural appropriation that one finds among certain other sects of European psychedelia, and they simply don’t. Whether the music speaks to you or not, appreciate that.
Lush but not overblown, Argentinian instrumentalists Black Sky Giant fluidly and gorgeously bring together psychedelia and post-rock on their third album, Primigenian, distinguishing their six-song/31-minute brevity with an overarching progressive style that brings an evocative feel whether it’s to the guitar solos in “At the Gates” or the subsequent kick propulsion of “Stardust” — which does seem to have singing, though one can barely make out what if anything is actually being said — as from the denser tonality of the opening title-track, they go on to unfurl the spiritual-uplift of “The Great Hall,” fading into a cosmic boogie on the relatively brief “Sonic Thoughts” as they, like so many, would seem to have encountered SLIFT‘s Ummon sometime in the last two years. Doesn’t matter; it’s just a piece of the puzzle here and the shortest track, sitting as it does on the precipice of capper “The Foundational Found Tapes,” which plays out like amalgamated parts of what might’ve been other works, intermittently drummed and universally ambient, as though to point out the inherently incomplete nature of human-written histories. They fade out that last piece after seeming to put said tapes into a player of some sort (vague samples surrounding) and ending with an especially dream-toned movement. I wouldn’t dare speculate what it all means, but I think we might be the ancient progenitors in question. Fair enough. If this is what’s found by whatever species is next dominant on this planet — I hope they do better at it than humans have — we could do far worse for representation.
