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Live Review: Elephant Tree, Morag Tong and Wychhound in London, UK, 05.16.18

Posted in Reviews on May 17th, 2018 by JJ Koczan

Elephant Tree (Photo by JJ Koczan)

The kind of evening to vibrate the plugs in your ears. I’m loath to do this, but there’s a lot of context to this one that needs quick covering, so here are a few bullet points so we’re all on the same page:

  • I’m in London with my wife who is a college professor leading a study abroad trip for students. The baby and I got to tag along. Good deal.
  • While in Canterbury, the house where we were staying was burgled overnight. Among the stolen: My laptop, my camera, my glorious cosmic backpack. Sucked. Years of writing and music, gone. No backups (I know, I know…). Patient Mrs., Pecan and self fine though, so could’ve been worse.
  • One of my wife’s students very generously let me borrow her camera and take it to The Black Heart in Camden Town to shoot Morag Tong‘s release show with Elephant Tree and Wychhound on the bill.
  • I took my first Uber to get there. You don’t actually need to know that, but it was an interesting experience nonetheless.

I met guitarist/vocalist Jack Townley and drummer Sam Hart from Elephant Tree outside The Black Heart before I even got through the door and was warmly greeted. All the more appreciated after a long day. A week after Desertfest London, I wasn’t sure what to expect in terms of crowd — people could be fired up just as easily as burnt out — but it was for sure the former inside; already packed and the show, which would happen upstairs in the venue itself as opposed to the downstairs bar, hadn’t even started.

It had been half a decade since the last time I was fortunate enough to be in The Black Heart. The upstairs bar had moved from the back to the side of the venue, but beyond that, not much had changed. Downstairs was much the same as I remembered, with the big bar in the center and tables and enclaves off to the sides, a place one could both get rowdy or have a quiet conversation. Outside, people smoked like fiends. Inside, I found Elephant Tree bassist/vocalist Peter Holland, also formerly of Stubb and Trippy Wicked, old friend Chris West of an ever-increasing number of bands, among them the newly formed Glanville, whose EPK was on my stolen laptop, and met a woman Jack introduced as Sister Rainbow, who had the hair to match and for whom this would mark her 36th Elephant Tree show. Being my first, I told her she had me beat by a wide margin.

Soon enough after, things got started upstairs with Wychhound on first. The Londoners have been around a few years, and have a new EP out called Earth Orbiter following up their 2015 self-titled, which they tracked as a five-piece with vocals. Instrumental now, they made good use of the dynamic between Roberto Pini and Miles McDonald on guitar in setting the foundation for their sound, which was someplace between Kyuss-style desert worship and the heavier explorations of Pelican with shades of Russian Circles-esque post-heavy in some of its more daring moments. Bassist Neil Neighbour and drummer Sid Naghdi provided a foundation of weighted groove and allowed the guitars space to wander when they were so inclined, and some of the most effective moments came in combining forward drive with that emergent sense of space.

Even in this age of immediate access, sometimes it’s nice to go in blind — plus I, admittedly, had a pretty busy day — so I hadn’t gotten to check Wychhound out before, but their atmospherics on a piece like “Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 (SL-9)” were readily apparent and still left room for rawer, head-down riffing in the material surrounding. It was enough to make me visit their Bandcamp and snag a download, which I guess was the idea in the first place. Some growing to do, perhaps, as they continue to come into their own sound, but they were a right on way to start the night and full enough in tone that, yes, I had to keep adjusting my right earplug because the low end was making it vibrate.

Speaking of tone, fucking Elephant Tree. Their self-titled debut (review here) on Magnetic Eye was easily one of the best records of 2016, and especially after missing them last year at Psycho Las Vegas, as soon as I found out they were playing while I’d be in town, I knew I had to see them. The three-piece did not disappoint, and that wasn’t a surprise. That is, I knew they’d be good. I’d seen videos and was of course familiar with the album and all that. I knew they’d be good. What I didn’t expect was that they’d be so much fun.

Peter Holland is at very least two things, and I say them both with utter affection and zero sarcasm. He is among the most charming drunks I’ve ever encountered, and he is insanely talented. At this point I’ve seen him play in three different bands and he’s never failed to make a mark in each of them in terms of sound. His voice is immediately recognizable, his smile infectious and his style of play was as perfect a match for Townley‘s guitar on stage as it had been on the record. Also, he broke a string before they went on. They still started more or less on time, laughing and making fun of each other in the process. Then, in the first song, Hart‘s drum stool busted. Hardly missed a beat, kept playing, and fixed it before they started the next cut. Later on, one of Townley‘s pedals got stuck on and he couldn’t turn it off, making a kind of wash of low end psychedelic waves out of a verse riff in the process. No fucking complaints there.

The point is there was no stopping Elephant Tree from rolling out their massive nod. And when I say massive, I don’t just mean it sounded big, but it sounded like it had a physical presence. Tone you could chew like gum. Between the laid back groove and the laid back vibe and the lady in the crowd making seal noises — no, it wasn’t Sister Rainbow; she was down the front rocking out as only someone on their 36th show with a band could hope to do — it was impossible not to have a good time, so I put my borrowed camera down and did exactly that for a little bit. Just let it go and enjoyed myself, and whether it was the evening’s highlight “Aphotic Blues” or the album closer “Surma” or “Dawn” — which was precisely as built for a sing-along as it seems, with Townley and Holland sharing vocals — I had no regrets. Townley brought a frontman presence to the guitar/vocal spot and though there were times when the bass threatened to swallow everything in its path, his solos cut through and gave the whole thing an entirely new sense of space. What a blast.

By way of plainly stating the obvious, they were my highlight, but Morag Tong were still to go, playing cuts from their Last Knell of Om debut full-length, which is officially out tomorrow, May 18. I’d been lucky enough to hear the album prior to seeing them — it, too, was on the desktop of my stolen laptop, and I believe slated for the next Quarterly Review, though of course I can’t be sure of that because my notes… well, you get the idea — and knew a bit of what was coming. They started out with guitarists Alex Clarke and Lewis Crane both on e-bow guitar (dueling e-bows!) and would go on to play the complete album, swapping the order to finish with “To Soil” and letting drummer Adam Asquith initially bide his time before unleashing his growling vocal between “Transmission” and “New Growth.” Equal parts psychedelic and doom, they were clearly proud of the work they’d done — and rightly so — and hypnotic in their presentation enough even on stage to give a sense of the underlying element of drone on the record.

Back into the (new) notes they go for the next Quarterly Review. Swapping out the saturated red light for a cooler-toned blue, they were a fitting end to a day that had started as a huge bummer some 17 hours earlier and had a massive turnaround in spirit and mood — more on that later. As they lurched out their meditative immersion, I made my way back downstairs to say a few quick goodnights and Uber myself back to Maida Vale, having had a night so satisfying that I almost forgot about the events of the morning prior. A night of volume and heart in kind, and the kind of night that I was so glad to be a part of that I’m still wearing The Black Heart‘s paper wristband on my right arm. And I hate those damn things.

Thanks for reading.

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Kamchatka Announce Exclusive UK Show on Sept. 19

Posted in Whathaveyou on August 4th, 2014 by JJ Koczan

Headlining in the UK for the first time, Swedish trio Kamchatka have announced a show Sept. 19 at The Black Heart in Camden Town, London, on Sept. 19. The three-piece released their fifth album, The Search Goes On, earlier this year on Despotz Records and boast the formidable presence of Per Wiberg in their ranks. Their last stop off in the UK was at the 2012 Download festival, and their resume also boasts an opening slot for Clutch, whose drummer Jean-Paul Gaster is a former collaborator.

I’ll grant that Camden is a long ways away for me to be plugging a show, but I’ve been to that venue as a part of Desertfest and met the people who run it and found them to be exceedingly welcoming, and the room upstairs where bands play is badass. I can think of an infinite number of less pleasant ways to spend an evening, so yeah, it’s not the most geographically central place for me to note a gig happening, but I think the circumstance warrants the mention.

From the PR wire:

Kamchatka – UK Exclusive Event

Snuff Lane Promotions has team up with Chaos Theory Music to proudly present – Exclusive Kamchatka UK Headlining event. (Only UK performance of the year).

Despite fans demanding more shows since their performance at 2012’s download festival, as well as having been spotted supporting the likes of Clutch, we’re flabbergasted that this is Kamchatka’s debut UK Headlining event.

In support of their new album ‘The Search Goes On’, the band has recently recruited the addition of Per Wiberg (Ex-Opeth, Spiritual Beggars…) – we’re certain that this is a must see event and request fans to attend to be a part of Stoner Rock history Tickets are due to go live today; with an unmissable line-up still to be announced, including another Swedish act for special guest support.

We would greatly appreciate any articles you’d announce in relation to our event, so please do request any additional information or press material to support.

Event: Kamchatka – UK Exclusive
Date: Friday 19th September
Venue: The Black Heart, London
Tickets: £10.00 (Advance)
Support: TBA.

https://www.facebook.com/events/433089766833008/
https://www.facebook.com/Kamchatkaofficial/
http://kamchatka.se/

Kamchatka, “Tango Decadence” official video

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LONDON DESERTFEST 2013 Day Three: Shine in a Being

Posted in Features on April 28th, 2013 by JJ Koczan

04.28.13 — 11:13PM GMT — Sunday — Holiday Inn, Camden

The photo above is of my wristband for this year’s Desertfest. You’ll note it’s not attached to my wrist. I got back just a little bit ago from the Electric Ballroom and had meant to ask at the front desk of the hotel for them to cut it off with scissors, since it’s pretty sturdy material — it’s had to be to last these several days — but forgot on my way up and wound up just pulling it off around my hand. I feel like I should have it framed.

Late nights beget later nights, so I’m not gonna waste time here. Day three was no less righteous than one would have to expect after the first two. Here’s how it went down for me:

Throne

The other day I received a vehement recommendation to check out Throne, to which I responded, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they played last year and were cool.” Turns out they did play Desertfest 2012, at The Underworld, but this year the trio moved over to The Black Heart, which was where my day began with their unpretentious Sleep riffing and nodding rhythms. They still didn’t have an album for sale downstairs that I could find, but The Black Heart was, as it has been this whole weekend, packed out. On my way through, I watched a couple seconds through the doorway in the spirit of Roadburn and found myself still persuaded by their languid pacing and largely-unfrilled stonery. I had finished my cup of coffee about two minutes before they started playing, so it was a cool way to wake up.

Blackstorm


Meanwhile, at The Underworld, Brighton/Manchester-based Blackstorm were dishing out a pounding the likes of which I’d not yet seen here. They were a band about whom I knew next to nothing, but their double-guitar uptempo crushcore was a longer way away from what Throne were doing at The Black Heart than the street that divided the two acts physically. I arrived part of the way through their set, which the five-piece delivered in lively fashion, with lots of movement, a swinging mic stand and big, chunky riffs set to breakdown beats. “Then You’ll Drown” was a burly basher, and I caught “Run with the Wolves” from their late-2012 EP, The Darkness is Getting Closer, which was distinguished by the dual vocals of guitarist Neil Kingsbury and frontman Karl Middleton. They were tight and had it together on stage, though my head was already preparing itself for the cleaving it would no doubt receive from who followed them.

Conan

Suddenly I had to wonder why I bothered bringing earplugs in the first place. British trio Conan weren’t through the second verse of “Hawk as Weapon” from last year’s low-end raging Monnos (review here) before I felt like they’d melted in my ear canal. Guitarist/vocalist Jon Davis, bassist/vocalist Phil Coumbe and drummer Paul O’Neil just released their set from last year’s Roadburn as the new Mount Wrath CD and vinyl, and while that’s definitely a satisfying listen, I was glad to see them in-person again, because no matter how loud you turn up a record, I don’t know if there’s any way to do justice to what Conan are live. Beastly heavy. Heavy to whatever degree hyperbole you might want to put to it, and while that heaviness and Davis and Coumbe‘s tones are still the star of the show, the three-piece also have grown as a stage act since I last had the good fortune to see them. Coumbe‘s low growls and Davis‘ shouting worked especially well together, and in addition to “Hawk as Weapon,” “Battle in the Swamp” and “Grim Tormentor” from Monnos, Conan also played two new songs, “Foehammer” and “Gravity Chasm,” which continued the warmongering gallop of the earlier album tracks that set up an excruciatingly slow finale, all the while keeping their fury front and center and proving there’s more to their heaviness than what comes through their amps. The other day, when I got stopped by that customs agent, he accused me of trying to illegally emigrate to the UK. I’m still not planning on it, but Conan make a solid argument in favor of doing so.

Toner Low

Kudos to whoever handled scheduling the bands’ timeslots for putting Conan and Toner Low right next to each other. I’d never seen the Dutch three-piece before — they’re now in their 15th year and have just released their third album — but they actually share a lot in common with Conan in terms of their general ethic. They are unreasonably loud, unremittingly heavy in tone and seem like they’re ready to follow a riff anywhere it might lead them. The difference is aggression. Where Conan are all beheadings and mayhem, Toner Low are purely stoned. Toner Low played in the dark but for a psychedelic lightshow setup they placed in front of their drummer and a sheet with projected falling pot leaves on the guitarist/vocalist, but yeah, they’re about as stoner as stoner gets, working in elements of more primal drone here and there, but keeping a solid foundation of riffs at hand at almost all times. They brought their own rigs, which made sense for the bassist since her gear was different from what seemed to be on hand, but the guitar — which seemed to be actually coated in resin from the look of it — ran through an Orange half-stack and amp they brought, and there’s been so much Orange around Desertfest I can practically taste it. I can’t argue with their having done it, though, since Toner Low sounded unbelievably good. I bought their new record and am looking forward to checking it out.

Naam

Naam beckoned. I won’t lie, there was a part of me that was like, “Why the hell would you go to London and see a band you can see in New York?” The other part of me was all, “No way dude, this is gonna be awesome. Naam have a new record coming out,” and that part of me won. Once a trio, now a foursome and tonight playing as a five-piece with the addition of a second guitar — not that they were lacking texture before, but more never hurts — Naam‘s universe seems to be in permanent expansion, both in terms of their lineup and their sound. Tonight was the best I’ve seen them play, and I’ve seen them play a few really killer shows. The integration of John Weingarten‘s keys along with Ryan Lugar‘s guitar/vocals, John Bundy‘s bass/vocals and Eli Pizzuto‘s drums is complete, and to show that, “Starchild” from last year’s The Ballad of the Starchild EP was the highlight of their whole set, though “Beyond” from their forthcoming sophomore full-length, Vow, came pretty close. They’ve nearly perfected a balance between stoner riffing and Hawkwindian space rush, and not surprisingly, their heavy psych went over huge at the Electric BallroomNaam are just starting a two-month European and UK tour that will have them in this part of the world for a while — perhaps it’s telling of their relative receptions that they’ll be in Europe when Vow releases — so I imagine they’ll only further solidify, but already they played a headliner’s set, closing as always with “Kingdom” from the EP of the same name (it also appeared on their 2009 debut LP), the layers of which shimmered with psychedelic vibes prior to a full-on freakout at the end of pushed-over drums and guitar destruction. Awesome.

Truckfighters


Here’s a direct quote from my notes on Truckfigters‘ set: “Everyone in the world who’s never seen Truckfighters live is a jive sucker and that’s that.” More or less, that covers my feelings on the matter. The Örebro trio — Ozo on vocals/bass, Dango on guitar and now Poncho on drums — are easily the most energetic and engaging fuzz rock acts I’ve ever seen, and before they were through perpetual opener “Desert Cruiser,” both Ozo and Dango had gone past the monitors at the front of the stage to be closer to the crowd, who were singing along loud enough to be heard over the instruments. But Truckfighters — who are fresh off a tour with Norwegian blackened punkers Kvelertak and shortly headed to Australia and New Zealand for a run of shows — aren’t just getting their cardio in, they’re also nailing the material and delivering it with a genuine sense of spontaneity and the impression that anything can happen at any given moment, such as Ozo jumping into the crowd during closer “In Search of The” or the band launching into “Chameleon” after someone in the crowd requested it, jamming on “Desert Cruiser” or unveiling two new songs, the first which fit (“fett?”) well with the bounce of “Monte Gargano,” which came later, and the second which had a fuller, fuzzier shuffle in the beginning and wound up thicker but still moving, with a quick bass and drum break to set up a return to what seemed on first impression to be a solid hook. “Majestic” was welcome, and from their audience interaction to the tightness of their performance — at one point Dango fell on stage after jumping off the drum riser and didn’t even stop playing as he got up — there are few records supposedly coming out before the end of this year that I’m looking forward to as much as the new Truckfighters.

Colour Haze

An hour hardly seemed like enough time for a proper Colour Haze set. Back in September 2012, the ultra-influential Munich heavy psych trio rolled through London and did a full three hours, complete with guest appearances, keys, and so on. Still, I’ll take what I can get, and when it came to “Transformation” from She Said (review here) — my album of the year last year — I still heard the horn parts in my head even though no one was playing them live, so I’m not about to bitch that the experience was somehow lacking. It wasn’t. Colour Haze were a complete 180 in terms of presence from Truckfighters, mostly subdued, no jumping, no running around, plenty of grooving, but less about getting the heart rate up than giving the audience something to shut its eyes and get lost in. As guitarist/vocalist Stefan Koglek, bassist Philip Rasthofer and drummer Manfred Merwald jammed past “Moon” from 2008’s All and into “Love” from their ’04 self-titled, they were so locked into what they were doing that the real miracle of it seemed to be they didn’t lose the crowd in the slightest. An extended take only gave everyone watching more to dig on, so that by the time “Peace, Brothers and Sisters” and “Tempel” came around, the Electric Ballroom was suitably hypnotized. Seriously, I just wanted to give them money. Like, “Here, Colour Haze, I have 50 Euro left over from last weekend. Please take it.” I’ve seen them before — their set at Emissions from the Monolith in 2006 changed my life (ask me about it sometime), and at one or two Roadburn fests along the way — but even though this felt like a sampling, it was ultra-satisfying to watch these godfathers of the modern European scene do what quite simply nobody does better. As I already knew I wouldn’t be staying for the entire Pentagram set, Colour Haze were sort of my closeout for Desertfest, and I couldn’t have asked for a warmer farewell than that. They were masterful.

Pentagram

I got a press release earlier this week that oft-imitated doom pioneers Pentagram had a new guitarist in the form of Philly-based Matt Goldborough, but that the lineup was otherwise the same as when Victor Griffin was still slinging axe, with Sean Saley on drums and Greg Turley on bass with frontman/defining presence Bobby Liebling on vocals. Of course, lineup changes are nothing new for Liebling‘s band — their legacy is as much about tumult as it is about the riff to “Forever My Queen” — but Griffin‘s presence brought a certain legitimacy to Pentagram‘s recent run and their 2011 Last Rites comeback album (review here), and his departure, whatever the circumstances may have been, changes the context of the band, Griffin — who also played today with his new outfit In~Graved — being one of very few others who’ve done time in Pentagram who can lay reasonable claim to the material. He may well have come out to guest on guitar (I recall seeing the band in 2009 when he wasn’t with them and that happened), but if he did, I wasn’t there to see it. I stayed for about four songs and then had to split to come back to the hotel, write and pack for my flight out tomorrow. For the portion I did catch, however — “Day of Reckoning,” “Forever My Queen,” “Treat Me Right” and “Livin’ in a Ram’s Head” — Pentagram were tight and Liebling was Liebling. There are few things as much fun to watch in a concert setting as Bobby Liebling flipping out to a guitar solo. Like he hasn’t been staring at them for 40 years now. Awesome. Turley and Saley have the material on lockdown, and as the new guy, Goldborough more than held his own on guitar, a younger presence giving some freshness to what might just as easily have come across stale otherwise. I’ve seen worse from Pentagram, and though one can dream of this or that reunion lineup, the simple fact that they exist and persist is to be… respected? Maybe. Probably. Definitely gazed at in astonishment. And so they were.

I have work to do. As in, for my job. And so I know that Desertfest, as blissful as it has been, must be over. My plan is to write up some concluding thoughts for this whole trip tomorrow on the plane, and I’ll include a thanks list with that, but before I switch off to picture-sorting mode, I just want to say it’s been an absolute pleasure and an honor to be back here in Camden this weekend, to see the bands I’ve been lucky enough to be here to see and to meet the people I’ve been lucky enough to meet. This place is awesome (but for the weather), the music is great and I feel like even more than last year, Desertfest is developing a genuine vibe all its own. I was beat today, t-i-r-e-d, but at the same time, I knew I wanted to take as much of the proceedings in as possible, because when I’m back home slogging away in the office, I’m going to miss it.

More to come tomorrow, and more pics after the jump. Thanks as always for reading.

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LONDON DESERTFEST 2013 Day One: Gods of Fire! Gods of Fire!

Posted in Features on April 26th, 2013 by JJ Koczan

04.26.13 — 11:28PM GMT — Friday — Holiday Inn, Camden

Housekeeping kicked me out of my hotel room. While I’m staying somewhere, I usually don’t like to have people come through and clean — I’m not making that much of a mess, and what mess I make, I can clean up myself — but sometimes it just has to be done. So they gave me the boot, but I was still early to head down for the official start of London Desertfest 2013. Or late, depending on how you want to look at it. I’ll explain as we go along, though before we get down to it and the rest of my night gets its course, let me just say that some of what I saw today is the kind of stuff that I’ve no doubt will stay with me for as long as I have the capacity to remember it. Really. It was like that. From watching friends kick ass to seeing bands I never thought I’d be lucky enough to see, it was the perfect start to a landmark weekend.

In the spirit of doom, let’s do a slow count-in: 1… 2… 3… 4…

Crystal Head

Native British trio Crystal Head were my favorite find of last year’s Desertfest — a band about whom I really knew nothing who just blew me away on stage. Obviously the surprise factor wasn’t there this go around, but the Londoners were perhaps even more satisfying to watch in 2013 since I knew most of the songs, which came from their 2011 self-titled debut (review here). As such, they made a great launch point for day one of this year’s Desertfest and though the setting was different at the Jazz Cafe, guitarist/vocalist Tom Cameron, bassist/backing vocalist Jon Deal and drummer Dean Deal nonetheless made short work of the room. Self-titled opener “Perfect Weirdo,” was a highlight, and Cameron‘s hollow-body Gretsch was as righteous as I remembered. Curiously, since I thought it was a shoo-in, they didn’t play “True to Say,” but I guess the DJ beforehand had gotten wind of the fact that they weren’t going to, and it was aired over the P.A. nonetheless before they took the stage. I had thought that was weird. Along with “Wouldn’t You Know” — which I might very well have stuck in my head for the rest of this weekend — they kicked into a new song called “Bellicose” that was introduced as being, “about how nice the world is.” So be it. Moody as they get, and they get plenty, Crystal Head never stray too far from the next hook, and even “Bellicose” had a solid crash groove from Dean that slammed into half-speed at just the right moment. When they closed with “Truth Hurts,” I wanted to hear a new record as badly as I wanted to hear the self-titled after they finished at The Underworld in 2012.

Groan


I went back and looked, and I haven’t called a band a hoot yet on this trip. Well, that’s what Groan were. They were a hoot. Just lots and lots and lots of fun. Fun to watch, fun to hear, fun from the moment of their ultra-pretentious classical intro to every over-the-top grandiose song of their set. I dug the hell of it. Not like I’d seen them before, but the now-fivesome have been through some lineup changes since they released The Divine Right of Kings (review here) in the latter half of 2012, shifting drummer Christopher West (also of Trippy Wicked) over to guitar while bringing on new drummer Zel Kaute and new guitarist Mike Pilat to join forces with bassist Leigh Jones and frontman extraordinaire Andreas “Mazzereth” Maslen. They brought the house down early with their unabashed heavy metal shuffle, dipping into their split with Vinum Sabbatum (review here) for “Cosmic Boogie” before “Magic Man” showed off some of the more metallic riotousness that showed up on the last album. They were a top-notch stage act, Mazz playing host to a chaotic carnival while Jones followed suit and the three relative newcomers kept the material in check while adding to the energy. Pilat contributed some vocals along with Jones in a few choruses, and it was cool to hear older songs from 2010’s The Sleeping Wizard (review here) like “Witchy Woman” and their finale, “Sleeping Wizard,” get treated to the band’s newer tones. Foremost, though, Groan were a really good time as they rushed through their set, and Mazz got in the last word of wisdom before they walked off stage: “Let’s have a party!” It seemed like we just had.

Mars Red Sky


The warmth. I guess in the intervening year since I saw them at Roadburn, I’d somehow tricked my brain into thinking there was no way France’s foremost ministers of fuzz Mars Red Sky could actually sound that thick and still be so languid, dreamy, psychedelic on stage. But no, they were. At The Underworld, bassist/vocalist Jimmy Kinast (left above), vocalist/guitarist Julien Pras (middle above) and drummer Matgaz (right above) had the perfect balance of tonal weight and melodic sweetness, and of all the fuzz I’m bound to hear in the next few days, I’ve no doubt that at the end, theirs will have been some of the most satisfying. Most of the new Be My Guide EP (review here) was played, including “Clean White Hands” and the title-track before the trio moved on to “Curse” and “Marble Sky” from their 2011 self-titled debut (review here), Kinast coming to the fore vocally for the latter. “Strong Reflection” from the full-length was even slower coming from the stage, which I didn’t expect, but that only made the rolling, nod-inducer of a riff even richer, Pras‘ vocals echoing but still conveying a single-layer’s fragility that doubling inherently removes from the studio versions of the material, giving what’s already ultra-natural-sounding a rawer vibe. The EP is still new, but the album cuts got a great response, and as Mars Red Sky capped with “Way to Rome,” I felt like I was being issued a reminder that summer is on the way and will be here before I know it. All the better for having Mars Red Sky‘s temperate fuzz to bake in solar scorch. They also let me take their picture outside the venue later. Right on.

Trippy Wicked and the Cosmic Children of the Knight

My original intention had been to watch cumbersomely-named appreciated amigos Trippy Wicked and the Cosmic Children of the Knight (oft just Trippy Wicked) start the day with an acoustic set at the Vans store in Camden. The downside to this plan? I had no idea where said retail outlet was. This was a two-fold downer: First, because I like Trippy Wicked‘s acoustic stuff a lot — they break out a ukulele and really make it interesting and moody and varied — and Second, because the friggin’ Vans store in Camden was right in front of my god damn face the whole time. I walked past it on my way to Jazz Cafe for the start of Crystal Head and actually did a facepalm. I don’t know how many times I’ve gone back and forth in front of it since getting into town, but it’s several. Fortunately, my feeling like a jackass (familiar as it is) was tempered by knowing that Trippy Wicked were also booked for a full-on slot at The Black Heart, which is where I caught the St Albans trio, whose drummer Chris West and guitarist/vocalist Peter Holland had been kind enough to host me earlier this week. Time was a factor, but I did get to see them play a new song, and that was awesome, and I got to see them fill up The Black Heart such that people were queued (yeah, I’m in the UK) through the door and into the hallway to get in. Not really surprising, since last year they played The Purple Turtle (not a part of Desertfest 2013, which has already saved a few long walks, I’m sure) and garnered much the same reaction, and if not for the power of their oh-so-heavy rock and roll, certainly the fancy shirts of Holland and bassist Dicky King would’ve packed the house. I don’t know if anything will ever beat seeing them in Eindhoven last year, but whenever I get to watch them play I’m glad to be there. My only regret of the day was I didn’t get my dose of “Hillbilly Moonshine.”

Yawning Sons


What could’ve possibly drawn me away from such rock-your-socksery? The thing is, to say I have an enduring affection for the Sons of Alpha Centauri/Gary Arce collaboration — he being the “Yawning,” as in his main outfit, Yawning Man, and they being the “Sons” as in the first word of the name of their band — and their 2009 debut album, Ceremony to the Sunset (review here), is to grossly understate the situation. Theirs was the first in a trio of desert-based sets (Sons of Alpha Centauri are from the UK, but Arce counts in atmosphere as well as geography, so we’ll give them credit at least this time), that went from Yawning Sons to Yawning Man to Fatso Jetson as the closers for The Underworld. Frankly, it wasn’t the kind of thing I was going to be able to live with myself if I missed, and it seemed I was lucky when I got there and Yawning Sons hadn’t started yet. Unfortunately, in a couple short seconds within beginning to play, Arce‘s guitar cut out. Gone. The Sons portion of the lineup — guitarist Marlon King, bassist Nick Hannon, soundscaper Andrew Blake and the drummer who held together much of the jams that would ensue — locked in the gorgeousness of “Tomahawk Watercress” on their own while Arce figured out his situation, and just when it seemed to be up and running, off his guitar went again. It went on like that for a while, and was a genuine, visible bummer that cut into their set time. King and company were pros all the way, and the tech crew for Desertfest and even Arce‘s Yawning Man bandmate, Mario Lalli (also of Fatso Jetson), came out to help. Finally they got the guitar working and were able to build a bit of momentum over the remainder of their set. Lalli returned to guest on vocals for “Meadows” from the album, and that helped, and they ended with just King and Arce playing off each other on guitar, which was a cool moment to see, though I don’t think the set turned out the way anyone had anticipated or hoped. Still, I can’t call it a disappointment from where I stood. Getting to see Yawning Sons play any of their material at all was an automatic win.

Yawning Man


I don’t know if it gets more of-the-desert than the Yawning Man lineup of Gary Arce, Mario Lalli and drummer Alfredo Hernandez. There’s plenty of acts and artists who’ve emerged from that vast, beautiful wasteland expanse, but aside from being pivotal to the creation of desert rock — period — is there anyone who so singularly embodies the heavy sound associated with that region? Maybe having Yawning Man play Desertfest 2013 was a way to find out, and if so, I’ll take it. I know they’re American and I’m American, but America’s a big country, and I honestly didn’t ever think I’d get to watching Yawning Man live, so this was something really special for me to witness — these three players jamming out still-unheralded classics for an audience that, if they went through and hand-picked a crowd, they couldn’t have found one more appreciative of what they do and what they’ve done for heavy rock and heavy psychedelia as a whole. And their albums, 2005’s Rock Formations and 2010’s Nomadic Pursuits (review here) — even the latter, for which I still carry a nerd’s torch, don’t do them justice live. The songs are heavier, yeah, but also just plain deeper tonally, Arce‘s guitar expanding to full echo breadth as he signaled changes to Lalli and Hernandez for when to move to the next part. I know Yawning Man have had some lineup shuffles in their time and even recently, but to have these guys come out and start running through “Sand Whip” and “Perpetual Oyster” and get a real flow going from one jam into the next, the massive influence they’ve had on the probably thousands of bands who’ve taken bits and pieces of their sound over the course of a generation — some without even knowing they did it — made a lot of sense. By way of new material, they played “Dark Meet” from their split 12″ with Fatso Jetson, which is only the second piece of vinyl I’ve bought since I left home, and before they started, I got to hold Gary Arce‘s guitar for him while he went and grabbed a replacement part, and I felt honored just for standing where I was even more than I had already.

Fatso Jetson

Boomer’s Blues! Boomer’s Boogie! Moving to guitar and getting a microphone for vocals, Mario Lalli commenced Fatso Jetson‘s set by asking the existential question, “What is desert rock, anyway?” I was going to yell out, “rebranded post-punk!” but thought better of it. In any case, Lalli isn’t quite post his punk. Joined in this iteration of his seminal outfit by drummer Tony Tornay, bassist/cousin Larry Lalli, both mainstays, and his son, guitarist/backing vocalist Dino von Lalli — who may or may not be 16 now; Mario said something on stage about pulling him out of high school to do this show — Lalli and the band answered his question to whatever degree Yawning Man could possibly have left it unanswered. They ran through a fortified, boogie-fied groover set that touched on Fatso Jetson albums like Cruel and Delicious (2002), Toasted (2001), Flames for All (1999) and Power of Three (1997), but conspicuously absent was anything from 2010’s Archaic Volumes (review here). I don’t know if maybe the band decided to leave that material be on account of not having Vince Meghrouni on-hand to contribute sax and vocals as he did on the record, “New Age Android,” “I’ve Got the Shame” and “Tutta Dorma” go a long way. There wasn’t any new material to be had, but having seen them at Roadburn in 2010, I knew Fatso Jetson delivered live, and they did precisely that. To my misfortune, I was standing up front next to The Most Fucked Up Couple In London™ (my only challenge was deciding which between the two was, in local parlance, the bigger cunt) and promptly had beer spilled all down my back, so I wasn’t long for being there, and once wrenched off the floor level of The Underworld, soon decided to pick up that Yawning Man/Fatso Jetson split and head back to The Black Heart to close out the night in local style.

Steak

It was a little like walking into Mos Eisley with the lights off, going back to The Black Heart. All around me, drunken murmurs and shouts in a variety of mumbled languages couldn’t be placed to their source, and even as I turned the corner to go down the alleyway to get to the bar, I knew I was in for it. I’d already been doused — I mean, covered — in beer, so whatever was coming, I felt like I was ready. I saw Steak here last year and dug them, and dug as well their sci-fi/comic thematic Disastronaught EP (review here), and with a new one coming called Corned Beef Colossus, figured this would be a chance both to get in some last-minute fuzz for the day and sample their latest material. The band features guitarist Reece Tee, who also organized Desertfest (not totally on his own, as no great feat is accomplished single-handedly, but still), vocalist Kippa, who set up his mic on the monitor box at the front of the stage, bassist Cam and new drummer Sammy, replacing Dan Kinsey, now of Wizard Fight, and Sammy would soon make the presence of his doubly-floor-tommed kit felt in more than just a busted hammer on a kick pedal as the London four-piece unrolled tones and grooves sliced even thicker than I remembered. Kippa, not content to be on the box, climbed onto the monitor itself to get to the ceiling, and the assembled masses seemed to treat it more as a start to the inevitable after party than the final set of the night. No doubt that was exactly the intent. This is their scene, their friends, their party, and the moment was well earned, both on Tee‘s part and the band’s.

It’s nearly four in the morning as I type this and I still have pictures to sort. Tomorrow is fewer bands, more full sets, and I’m looking forward to that for sure, but today was fantastic front to back, so I’m not about to complain. You can really get a sense being here of the spirit of appreciation with which this fest is executed, and I hope that comes across both in this and in the posts to come tomorrow night and Sunday. Thanks as always for reading.

More pics after the jump.

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DESERTFEST PRE-SHOW: Lost When You Found Your Way

Posted in Features on April 25th, 2013 by JJ Koczan

04.25.13 — 11:35PM GMT — Thursday — Holiday Inn, Camden

This was it. The official start of London Desertfest 2013. Well, okay, maybe not. That’s tomorrow, but tonight had the banner up and that’s something. The Black Heart hosted what was billed as the “Official Desertfest Pre-Show” with Greek stoner heavies 1000mods and UK rockers Enos and Blasted. Three bands to ease the way into what’s destined to be a landmark weekend of riffs and fuzz. Their task was laid out before them, but if any of the acts was feeling the pressure, the sweat was lost in that from the raging performances. It was a varied bill, with Blasted showcasing punkish roots and Enos hinting at heavier space rock while the headliners basked in European fuzz, but all three were met with a decidedly positive reception.

Since this is the start of the Desertfest 2013 coverage, I’m going to present the show like I will the fest as a whole. Hope you dig it. Let’s get started.

Blasted

I guess if you had to pick one, Blasted would be the standout act on the bill, less riff-minded than either of the other two and they didn’t get through their soundcheck without shrapnel flying from one of drummer Tommy Randhawa‘s sticks, but it seems to not really matter which end of heavy a band comes from over here to make a good bill, and I like that. I was early to the show, but Blasted got going soon enough and sprinted through a set of speed rock with thoroughly punkish overtones and aggression. Guitarist/vocalist Ben Perrier used to be in Winnebago Deal, but Blasted is by and large faster and meaner, bassist James Phung answering back in call-and-response choruses to “This Place is Nothing” and “Living Nightmare,” both highlights of their set for being catchy as well as blazing. They were crisp and efficient in getting from point-A to punch-you-in-your-kidneys, but not without locking in the occasional heavy groove along the way, as though to portend what would come for the rest of the night.

Enos

Despite having some warning of what Enos got up to when I received and added their late-2012 All too Human album and added the tracks to The Obelisk Radio, when the Brighton four-piece actually got to work on stage, they immediately surpassed my expectation. There are a lot of bands who blend heavy psych and stoner riffing to one degree or another, but Enos blur the lines well with a wash of echo and cymbals that nonetheless come underscored by a near-constant forward motion. They had an open sensibility, and with the two guitars of Sean Cox and Chris Rizzanski, there was plenty of room for exploration while bassist George Cobbold and drummer Sparky Rogers held down thick and dense grooves, but Rizzanski‘s vocals also had a throaty,  motor rock delivery that grounded the songs well (when he wasn’t using a second mic setup for a talk box, that is). The crowd was obviously more familiar with their breadth than I was, though even with a regular sprawl of effects on Rizzanski‘s guitar, it was easy to dig into Enos‘ gripping material, the band tossing in a hook riff more than often enough to hold attention for the duration. They were a pleasant surprise, and I picked up a copy of All too Human on CD for further investigation. They were also selling glow-in-the-dark shirts, which are always fun, but I didn’t dare.

1000mods

With riff-worship culled from early Dozer and stoner rock’s alleged ’90s glory days (I happen to think the glory days are going on now, particularly in Europe), 1000mods came up to Camden Town from Greece en route to the Desertfest in Berlin this weekend, and I’m glad they did. Their 2011 full-length debut, Super Van Vacation (review here) took cues from some of modern heavy psych’s laid back atmospheres, but it was the more powerful, rocking moments that stood out live. They got going with a cut listed as “Zamataz” that didn’t appear on the album — maybe new? — and just as they were kicking into The. Big. Groove., the power went out of Giannis and George‘s guitar. Like, gone. No coincidence I’m sure that they were rocking at full throttle. A couple minutes of lost momentum didn’t help — bassist/vocalist Dani (his instrument slung low in the tradition of Church of Misery) and drummer Lab did the best they could to fill the time — but by the time they were into their third song, it was more or less forgotten. They resumed their rush and continued on unabated. Highlights from Super Van Vacation included “7 Flies,” “Set You Free” and “Navy in Alice,” but the best came later into the set, with the sweet guitar interplay of “Vidage” and the sing-along-ready hook of “El Rollito,” The Black Heart crowd fist-pumping and shouting along to the chorus ending with the memorable, “…Nothing can save my soul.” They ended with the opener and closer of Super Van Vacation in that order, and both “Road to Burn” and “Super Van Vacation” locked in rolling riffs that drew likewise vehement response from the audience, duly sauced. They went a few minutes past the 11PM curfew, but fortunately no one seemed to register a complaint, and when it was over, there was as much a sense of something having begun as having ended.

After Party

At the downstairs bar, which is awesome, the Desertfest crew were holding an after party DJ’ed by none other than Rich from the The Day After the Sabbath, which, man, if you haven’t checked out his podcasts, you should. Certainly the guy for the job — I don’t think I’ve ever been to London and not heard Leaf Hound‘s “Freelance Fiend” at one point or another — he was holding it down for sure, but I needed to get back to the hotel and write and so didn’t linger as I otherwise might have. Many did, though, and it seemed like Desertfest was getting its due for an opening night pregame.

Tomorrow starts early and runs late, is my busiest day of the festival. I won’t have time to check in during the day, but will report in afterwards with words and pics on the proceedings. I was feeling beat going into today, but after tonight, I’m more geared up and excited for what’s to come over Friday, Saturday and Sunday. It’s going to be a blast, I can tell already.

More pics after the jump.

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Live Review: Elder, Pet the Preacher and Serpent Venom in Camden Town, UK, 04.22.13

Posted in Reviews on April 24th, 2013 by JJ Koczan

The Black Heart is nestled into an alleyway that runs off a street behind The Underworld in Camden Town, London. I knew the place when I got there Monday night because it was one of the venues where Desertfest was held in 2012 and will be again this year, which made this kind of an unofficial pre-pre-show. Obviously I’ve only been a few times, but it seems to me like a hub of the London scene. I was early to the show and watching the people around me, it wasn’t long before so-and-so said hi to someone else, hey to this or that person, etc. There is a larger bar downstairs and the venue room upstairs (with another, smaller bar), so there’s plenty of room to mingle and shoot the shit if you’re so inclined.

I was introduced almost immediately to the cats from Serpent Venom, whose last album, Carnal Altar, I actually bought but didn’t open because I didn’t want to rough up the packaging; a CD housed in what looked like an old occult paperback. Still failed in that preservation, but I’d heard some stuff online in the interim and knew they were heavy trad doom of the sort in which England specializes, and that their singer, Gaz, was a madman on stage. That turned out to be true, but it was up in the air whether or not the show would even happen for a while, since Elder and Copenhagen heavy rock trio Pet the Preacher had been delayed at their ferry and forced to wait for the next one.

Ultimately, they arrived and the show started late, but it started. Having come from the Netherlands myself during the day, I knew it was a hell of a trip to make, and they were doing it by van and ferry while I rode on comfortable trains. In any case, a backline was secured and Serpent Venom played a five-song set comprised almost entirely of new material from an album that they’ll begin to record sometime over the next few months. Gaz was, as expected, feeling the riffs deep, headbanging, raising his arms, foot up on the monitor block at the front of the stage, but what I hadn’t realized was how much the rest of the band would follow suit. Guitarist Roland cut a few classic moves of his own, bassist Nick seemed to be in charge of thanking the crowd — which was considerable even for the first act — and even drummer Paul got in on the action with some great faces from behind the kit and a readiness at a moment’s notice to stand up and engage the audience.

They were a lot of fun to watch, and not that I anticipated they’d be boring, but I liked them more than I thought I would like them. They closed out with a cut from Carnal Altar (I want to say it was “Four Walls of Solitude,” but because of the feedback and rumble it was hard to hear Gaz between songs and I’m not 100 percent), and that was met with a duly riotous response — headbanging, fist-pumping, that thing doom dudes do where they put their hands over their heads to clap and sort of sway side to side in a stepping half-circle. Well earned on Serpent Venom‘s part. They were easily the doomliest band on the bill, but in their element nonetheless, and with the complex rhythms of some of their new riffs, starts and stops and off-time interplay between the drums and guitar, their next album will for sure capture some attention.

Camden was the 12th stop on Elder and Pet the Preacher‘s 15-date European tour, so getting to the venue aside, things were locked in for both bands. Pet the Preacher had played a set down the street from the 013 at Roadburn, but as I was committed elsewhere, I didn’t get to see it. All the more reason to get to The Black Heart and see the Danish threesome bust out their Euro bottom-end heavy stoner riffs. It was an immediate turn sonically from Serpent Venom, but the consistent factor was an underlying appreciation for the heavy, and Pet the Preacher had me asking at the end of the set if I could buy a CD. They too played some new stuff — three out of the four on their setlist (which was scribbled on a torn off piece of a Red Stripe box) don’t appear either on 2012’s The Banjo debut full-length or the preceding Meet the Creature EP — and only “Into a Darken Night” appears on the first release.

Unquestionably, the highlight of the rest was set finale “What Now,” which featured the simple-but-speaking-volumes Q&A chorus, “What now/Fuck it,” atop a lumbering stoner riff that seemed out of the Euro heavy playbook but was still well placed and put to more than solid use. I could feel myself starting to pre-second-wind drag before they were done, but a shot of adrenaline from Elder was just the thing to revitalize.

Now, it had only been two days since I saw them tear a hole through a packed-out Het Patronaat at Roadburn, so yeah, I knew what was coming, but how awesome to watch Elder deliver the same kind of energy to 200 people in Camden as to 1,000 in Tilburg. The setlist was mostly the same — “Gemini,” “Release,” “Spires Burn,” “Dead Roots Stirring,” “Riddle of Steel,” and “The End” — but the real highlight was seeing how tight the band had become after 11 days on the road. They were in good spirits throughout, and their insistent, circular grooves were met with vigorous enthusiasm, bassist Jack Donovan‘s volume shaking the wooden floor of the place while guitarist/vocalist Nick DiSalvo‘s lead notes cut through the tonal assault and drummer Matt Couto provided both sonic punctuation and the addition of his cymbals to the already consuming wash of glorious heavy psychedelic volume.

“The End,” which is a later track from 2011’s Dead Roots Stirring (review here), made for an especially righteous ending. I don’t think I’d pick it over “Dead Roots Stirring” or “Spires Burn” as the best thing they played, but DiSalvo’s leads and the Colour Haze-inspired apex of it was striking all the same, and when they kicked into the final progression, the rush of that riff, it clearly earned its place as the sendoff. Because they were late, their set had to be cut short to meet an 11PM curfew, and that was a bummer, but The Black Heart has neighbors and it was a Monday night, so it’s certainly understandable. When it came to seeing Elder, I think the audience was happy to get what they got. I know I certainly was.

Extra pics after the jump. Thanks to you for reading and to Reece Tee for making me feel at home a long way from it.

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