It’s called Gronsveld Jams Vol. 2, and guess what? It’s the second collection of jams recorded in Gronsveld, The Netherlands, from whence The Whims of the Great Magnet hail. What began as a band became a solo-project for Sander Haagmans, formerly of Dutch heavy psych purveyors Sungrazer, and has grown into a vibrant outfit with time, able to be solo or have a full live lineup. On this release, that includes drummer Jonathan Frederix, bassist David Eering (also guitar/vocals in The Machine), and guitarist/synthesist/vocalist Arthur von Berg in addition to Haagmans himself on guitar and vocals.

The shift has been gradual and organic, as perhaps in invariably would be given both the style and personnel involved, but listening to Gronsveld Jams Vol. 2 — the sequel to the 2024-issued Gronsveld Jams ’23 — there’s no question that in character and form, this is a band now, rather than a spearheaded project, and it’s the chemistry and ability to harness a flow from out of the ether at seemingly a measure’s notice as put forth in the 28-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “Honey Bee Yammm > Freeloader Jam” that distinguishes them. Make no mistake, this is in essence a rehearsal recording, so if you’re seeking crisp studio-tracked perfection set to a click, you’ll probably want to seek elsewhere. Nothing against that, mind you — believe it or not there’s room on this planet and its according digital ether for both approaches — but you should be clear on what Gronsveld Jams Vol. 2 is both aiming for and offering in terms of listening experience.

The answer there is plenty when it comes to conveying the exploration, the musical conversation and the fluidity into and out of structured material taking place across however many sessions it was in Feb. and July this year. From the palpable warmth of the tones of guitar and bass to the post-grunge light-swinging bounce of ‘Freeloader Jam’ and the flowing, here somewhat noisy take on “Baby Blue” as The Whims of the Great Magnet follow a 28-minute track with one that’s 25 in “Sunstroke Serenade Jam > Baby Blue > Froggy > DSM,” the two extended, compiled stretches already long enough to push the limits of a vinyl side, let alone be an album on their own. Put them together with the jokey “Guess the Intro” (4:45), “Soundcheck Jam” (9:47), which was also released as a standalone earlier this year, and “Baby Blue (Reprise) > Still No Limits Jam” (7:00), and Gronsveld Jams Vol. 2 runs an encompassing 75 minutes, and true to both form and the title they gave it, much of that time is spent jamming.

That can be a quiet succession of looped-sounding noodles that might be the ‘Froggy’ portion of that piece, or it might be a tighter shuffle like that which takes hold for a little while in “Guess the Intro,” which in itself begs the question of whether or not one should be trying to figure out which song is being played. Or, alternatively, maybe it’s the band who are confused between them about where they’re headed next. Either way, just by implying that might be the case, The Whims of the Great Magnet maintain a human, humble presence in the music, and that they would choose to include a meander like “Guess the Intro,” let alone make it the centerpiece of the album, tells you they’re committed to keeping things loose, to capturing some sense of the authentic in a ‘warts-and-all’ context, and to not pretending to be something they aren’t.

“Soundcheck Jam” has an ambling, low-key swing and swagger, and lets the bass come through a little more, which is nothing to complain about. Haagmans is credited with the recording and mix (also the cover art), and while I’m not sure what that actually entailed in terms of process — a lot of mic setup in a live room of some sort, presumably, with knob-twisting before, during and after — for sure there is a sense of dynamic that comes through the material.

Before they dip back to “Baby Blue (Reprise) > Still No Limits Jam,” with Frederix doing a bit more shuffle on the drums and Haagmans and von Berg coming together on vocals, “Soundcheck Jam” holds to its mellow-nod ambling, and in part because it’s one of the two inclusions here without the bootleg-tape-in-the-closet style ‘>’ in its title (of which I’m a fan, by the way; you could do the same thing with slashes, but it communicates ‘into’ so much more with the angle bracket), and in part because it was previously released months before the rest of the collection, it feels like a standout.

It’s on solid footing in terms of rhythm as well, even with some percussive dalliance in its second half, and I guess in some ways if you’re looking for a convenient example of how The Whims of the Great Magnet get down when it comes to instrumentalism, it’s the lowest-hanging fruit here, which makes it cool because you wouldn’t want to strain a shoulder or something, man. The point is it’s mellow-vibes front to back, but I know that not every brain is wired to dig on 75 minutes of ready-to-take-it-for-a-walk-and-maybe-not-come-back jamming.

To that end, I’ll point out how effectively “Baby Blue,” which appeared on late-2024’s Haagmans-solo studio foray Frydom (review here), provides a landmark along the way. Without removing the audience from the in-the-room atmosphere, it casually drops a hook that not only gives shape to the surrounding amorphousness but then manages to come back around and do it again at the start of the last of the five tracks. No, I don’t think the band sat down and planned it that way — I think probably they just played it on both occasions when they were jamming that are included here — but as with the best of improvised and/or jammed-out heavy psych, some of the best moments are the ones you didn’t necessarily plan for.

In that way, Gronsveld Jams Vol. 2 — and if there’s a ‘Vol. 3’ at some point, I won’t complain — reminds its audience of the importance of spontaneity to its makeup, and it’s fortunate that The Whims of the Great Magnet seem to have such a deep supply. If you’re on board with heavy jams and haven’t had a go yet, nobody’s gonna call you late. It’s not that kind of party.

The Whims of the Great Magnet, Gronsveld Jams Vol. 2 (2025)

The Whims of the Great Magnet on Bandcamp

The Whims of the Great Magnet on Instagram

The Whims of the Great Magnet on Facebook

Because it’s the future, the poster with the new round of lineup additions for Roadburn Festival 2026, in always-accommodating Tilburg, the Netherlands, is a video. And Roadburn is one of few places on the planet where ‘the future’ is a hopeful prospect. While you and I live in dystopic hellscapes of various shapes and oppressive, overwhelming, strip-you-of-your-rights-on-our-way-to-passively-if-not-actively-murdering-you realities, Roadburn unrepentantly brings a sense of optimism. The future isn’t that boot on your neck. It’s whatever you want it to be.

This is a message I appreciate as much as I appreciate being obliterated by bands on stage, and surely the likes of Inter Arma, Primitive Man and Slift meet that need here, among others. Look at Warning becoming a Roadburn house band. And a full-album performance from Blackwater Holylight for a record that isn’t out until Jan. 30 — the band will be back in Europe in May for more touring and more fests, and has a US tour slated for February/March, as I think went up yesterday. I have trouble keeping up sometimes with when things are actually getting posted these days. See horrors above.

A beacon amid perennial awfulness and distraction:

Maruja, billy woods, Inter Arma, aya and many more announced for Roadburn 2026

Roadburn festival has today announced a second wave of bands for the 2026 edition which will take place between April 16-19 in Tilburg, The Netherlands. Among the names announced today are festival favourites Inter Arma performing their epic 2014 release The Cavern for the first (and last) time, American rapper billy woods, and Manchester’s genre-bending four-piece Maruja.

Roadburn’s artistic director, Walter Hoeijmakers comments:

“As the path toward Roadburn 2026 unfolds, the energy around us is rising. Every connection, every sound, every spark of creativity is drawing us closer together as the festival comes into view. This second announcement marks another step on that journey, an open invitation to feel the pulse of what’s ahead.

“The artists at the heart of this year’s edition are each shaping worlds of their own, their past, present, and future intertwining in bold new ways. At Roadburn 2026, you’ll hear echoes of where we’ve been, glimpses of where we’re going, and the raw emotion of right now. Each performance will remind us that art can move us, heal us, and bring us together – that through music, we find our shared humanity.

“We’re letting optimism light the way. Let’s meet in Tilburg next April – alive, open, and ready to share this amazing energy, face to face.”

All ticket and accommodation options for Roadburn are on sale now and more information including the full line up can be found at roadburn.com

The latest additions to Roadburn 2026 are as follows:

Additions to Roadburn 2026:

Ak’Chamel
aya
Backengrillen
Blackwater Holylight performing Not Here Not Gone
billy woods
Haress
Inter Arma performing The Cavern
Kowloon Walled City
Mandy, Indiana
Maruja
Milkweed
Orcutt Shelley Miller
Pain Magazine
Primitive Man performing Observance and a set of early years’ material titled Remembrance
Prostitute
RÓIS
Saetia
SLIFT
Slow Crush performing Aurora and premiering a special audio-visual presentation of Thirst
Slowhole
Truck Violence
Unsane performing Occupational Hazard
Warning

These artists will join a slew of previously announced artists including Oathbreaker, Krallice, Agriculture, Habak and many more. The full line up can be found at roadburn.com

Artwork by Douwe Dijkstra

http://www.roadburn.com
http://www.instagram.com/roadburnfest
https://www.facebook.com/roadburnfestival/

Blackwater Holylight, If You Only Knew (2025)

Slift, Ilion (2024)

 

Toner Low belong in a rare echelon of stoner idolatry. At a time when the turn-of-the-century underground was beginning to expand, the Leiden, Netherlands, outfit’s 2005 self-titled debut (discussed here) can only be called prescient in its volume, tone, riff and weed worship, and at a time when stoner rock anything wanted to be called anything but stoner rock, there was never any mistaking where Toner Low — the trio of guitarist/vocalist Daan, bassist Miranda and drummer Jack — were coming from, and the I-use-drugs shame residual from the 1990s evaporated in the cloud of their lumbering, doom-infused roll.

Sound-wise, one might liken them most to Canada’s Sons of Otis, who beginning the mid-/late-1990s pushed through their own hazy ultra-thick grooves (and are still going, as is Toner Low), but here too Toner Low distinguish themselves. The trio’s second album, called simply II, was released in 2008, 10 years after the band first got together. It is comprised of four songs, numbered “One” (11:06), “Two” (14:03), “Five” (13:34) and “Three” (18:59), and though its cover art might give a darker impression than that of the first record, which blazes with a charmingly Dutch orange out front, the material included is no less colorful. The band set an initial bed of feedback and drone for an intro at the start of “One,” then let go to silence before the song begins in earnest. Immediately the effect is one of immersion and heavy-landing groove. They announce their coming. It doesn’t need to be a secret, and with such rumble of low end beneath it, it wouldn’t be anyway.

Tonally, II feels post-Dopesmoker in its density, but has fewer rough edges production-wise and uses its space for a current of effects running alongside the riffs. A slowdown about five minutes in leads gradually into a ‘verse,’ but it’s a couple more minutes before they get there and that’s just fine. If you’re in a hurry, look elsewhere. A tempo and volume pickup follows in minute-nine, and they bash-crash with Echoplex-esque noises peppered in headed toward the next slowdown, which brings them to the ending, which lasts about a minute. They’re just working with a different conception of time, that’s all. No biggie. Unless you count the tones, the runtimes and the weedian presence; all of those are, in fact, biggies.

“Two” builds up at the start, but quicker, and feels more immediate with Jack‘s tom hits behind the guitar/bass intro. This section goes for about four minutes, at which point the song devolves into noise and minimalist ambience, that in turn becoming the bed for a section of maybe-saxophone that eventually morphs into a low-key march as they approach the seven-minute mark. A kick-in is waiting, with a kind of harsher atmospheric growl over top, and a gruelingly righteous snail’s-pace nod persists until the horn (or flute of some sort) comes back at the end. There isn’t really an outward challenge to it — that is, nothing is too angry or grating or confrontational — but for sure there’s a stoner gauntlet being thrown down, and there weren’t many other acts one can think of in 2008 who’d pick it up.

At the end of its unfolding, “Five” gives over to residual noise and a sampled rainstorm, and that does set something of a melancholic mood coming off the droney lurch before it, the sense of sway palpable in the live-sounding crash after they’ve moved through the initial buildup and into the song-proper, before the drums and bass drop out to establish the more open, rolling riff that follows. In the midsection, effects-laced feedback gives a synthy impression before the push renews, more active in the drums en route to said finish, and as you’ll surely be hypnotized and/or numbed up by then, the snap-back to the full brunt of Toner Low‘s lurch will surely do the trick. Vocals are blown out but provide a loosely human presence regardless, and “Five” hits a level of heavy that in this era was largely reserved for Ufomammut and other cosmically-minded crushers. That the last two-plus minutes are spent in residual noise feels earned.

This leaves “Three,” the closer, largely in a place of its own. Bass and drums start out with a chug, there are lines either sampled or spoken, and soon enough (three minutes later), the song brings its guitar level up and crashes into a surprising shove before laying out the pattern to be followed in the central riff. Noise and feedback and samples become part of the pastiche, but the heft holds firm through the first half of the song until about seven minutes in when the guitar and manifold skronk cut out to let the drums and odds-and-ends noises have the room. What’s pivotal is there’s still movement.

When the song inevitably picks up, it’s certainly no less weighted for the few moments spent not burying you in distortion, but even after so much of Toner Low‘s superlative heaviness, they remain impressively heavy on “Three.” Much of the back end of the track is spent in the transition to the feedback that closes — I know, you’re shocked — but this is of course on purpose and part of how II functions; not so much to overwhelm, but to consume just the same. They’ve made the point already, but if you can’t hang with willful repetition and deliberate plod, you’ve probably already stopped listening. I guess maybe there’s that challenge after all. How much, exactly, can you take before you’ve had too much?

Yes, I’m talking about drugs. Also riffs.

II was re-released by Tartarus Records in 2014, and Toner Low by then had already issued their 2013 third album, III (review here), which remains their most recent full-length. I don’t know that there will or won’t ever be another — I never say never in regard, generally — but each of their records is a testament to riffing as ritual, and meditative despite the lack of appropriated Buddhist themes or heady, proggy indulgences. They put it out there. If you can get to their wavelength, you’re one of the lucky ones.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

Holy mackerel, another week. Thanks if you’ve kept up with the Quarterly Review. That wraps up on Monday and then I’ve got premieres slated for the rest of the week. There’s also of course news to catch up on and whatever else. Always.

I’m closing the week later than I’d like as well. I had Hungarian class at noon. It was my fourth class of the week, and I booked it forgetting that I needed to go to the school to give my daughter her meds/food at 12:30 basically because I’m incompetent. So I did the work for class and didn’t really have more than 10 minutes of it, most of which I apologized for being so fucking dumb. Idióta vagyok, one might say.

I’ll hope to pick up tomorrow with writing the Quarterly Review, but I’ve got a little more than an hour before I need to go pick up the kid from school, so I’m going to take that and relax. The Patient Mrs. is in Western Massachusetts for a wedding tonight and won’t be back until tomorrow, so it’s me and The Pecan since yesterday afternoon, and that’s been fine. She played Mario Galaxy for most of yesterday evening. I don’t expect tonight will be much different, except maybe with ice cream involved. My most ambitious plan is to give her a bath tomorrow morning, which she very much needs.

Her school issues persist. Ups and downs in the new classroom. I don’t feel good about it, but that’s familiar at this point.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Don’t let these fuckers tear you down, and you know which fuckers I’m talking about. Stay hydrated, stay grounded, stay in your head. Fuck fascism and its perpetrators and bootlicking sympathizers. Yes, all of them. Free Palestine.

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

It hasn’t exactly been graceful so far, this Quarterly Review, but it’s gotten to where it’s needed to go across a tumultuous first two days, and I’ll take that as a positive sign of things to come. We’re in the thick of it now, with day three, and it’s a good day to dig in, so I won’t delay further except to say I hope you find something in here that you enjoy.

Quarterly Review #21-30:

Vinnum Sabbathi, Intersatelital

Mexico City instrumentalists Vinnum Sabbathi have been plenty busy in the five years since their 2020 split with Comacozer (review here), whether it was collaborating with Rezn, touring multiple times in Europe, putting out a live record, etc., but the three-song Intersatelital EP is a welcome standalone studio return for the band just the same. Issued to coincide with their Summer ’25 Euro run, the 19-minute outing basks in 20th Century-era space exploration, with Spanish-language samples recounting the launch of early communications satellites for a kind of positive-future manifestation as the intro “Centro de Control Especial” flows into “Sistema de Satelites Morelos” and the 11-minute finale “Rodolfo Neri Vela,” which is both heavy enough to pay off the entire procession of the release and intense enough to convey escape velocity. The short version: Vinnum Sabbathi deliver again.

Vinnum Sabbathi on Bandcamp

Vinnum Sabbathi on Instagram

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Crop, S.S.R.I.

Past the medically-noisy intro “Flatline,” Crop‘s S.S.R.I. — the Lexington, Kentucky, sludgers’ second LP, named for the class of antidepressants — builds a massive wall of harsh-shout-topped sludge metal with “Formaldehyde,” big tones and big riffs resulting in big impact. Nothing to complain about, and I’m not complaining, but neither is that all they have to offer. A midsection break with vocals that if you come back in a decade will probably be clean hints at complexity in the composition, and sure enough, even the lumbering largesse of “Godamn” or the closer “Break” give hints of melody somewhere (the latter also some double-kick), and by the time they get to “10-56,” they’ve established their context enough that the dynamic will be apparent for those willing to hear it. That makes “Alone” less of a surprise with a more progressive reachout in its second half, followed by the echoing guitar interlude “Breath,” after which “Break” buries itself and everything else in lurching distortion and takes just a quick breather before the last and most vicious onslaught. They sound like they’re on a path of growth, but to be sure they’re also flattening everything on that same path.

Crop Linktr.ee

Third House Communications on Bandcamp

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Bloodsports, Anything Can Be a Hammer

Bloodsports are no more beholden to the post-grunge melancholy of “Rosary” than the outright crush of “Rot” just before or the willfully choppy succession of “Trio 1” and “Trio 2” that open its respective sides or the penultimate strum and cello of “A River Runs Through,” and their first album, Anything Can Be a Hammer envisions an intimate volatility. “Come, Dog” and the daringly straight-ahead “Calvin” find the Brooklynite four-piece (maybe sometimes a trio?) casting their lot with individual perspective almost as a side-effect of the personal expression the nine component tracks seem to convey, but also rock, and while at full-bore, the six-minute closing title-track is a forceful push revealing a prog-hardcore metal (Converge, Oathbreaker) influence somewhere in the band that provides a roiling payoff. It gets chaotic and they let it, so bonus points for all that noise. A lot will depend on whether or not they tour, but there’s a take developing in Bloodsports‘ sound that isn’t like much else out there. If they can hit it hard and tour, the potential is there to be realized.

Bloodsports Linktr.ee

Good English Records on Bandcamp

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Eyes of the Oak, Tripping Through Neon Skies

Swedish heavy progressive psychedelic rockers Eyes of the Oak follow 2024’s sophomore LP, Neolithic Flint Dagger (review here), with the three-tracker Tripping Through Neon Skies, which pairs two originals in “Temple of Hallucinations” (5:08) and “Hitchhiking From the Mescaline Moon” (11:49), the latter drifting into a cosmically declarative crescendo that calls to mind Samsara Blues Experiment in its sweep, with a duly spaced-out take on AC/DC‘s “Hell’s Bells” that admirably balances loyalty to the original (why else would you cover it?) with the band’s will to make it their own in melody and reach. “Hitchhiking From the Mescaline Moon” is more of a voyage, of course, but “Temple of Hallucinations” casts itself out in vivid colors with a proggy hook and swells of vocal melody that add a light, not-unwelcome touch of the grandiose. It’s a big sound, and a big universe, and with these songs, Eyes of the Oak continue to carve out their place in it.

Eyes of the Oak website

Eyes of the Oak on Bandcamp

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Pygmy Lush, Totem

So here’s my story. Not knowing much about Virginia’s Pygmy Lush beyond their being well recommended and sharing members with Pageninetynine, I showed up to their set at this year’s Roadburn Festival, and found their punk-rooted, sometimes-loud Americana engaging enough that I knew I wanted to check out their first album in 14 years, Totem. Year goes on, blah blah, summer, blah blah everything is terrible, and I finally get around to the album and Totem blindsides with a post-hardcore swing and angularity, somewhat thinky-thinky-smart-dude in pieces like “Algorithmic Mercy (Prayers Printed Directly Into a Shredder),” and unhinged in the general impression in that way that sounds like it’s about to trip over itself the whole time but never actually does. Kind of a surprise, but it’s done well and I ain’t mad about it. I’m sure there’s a narrative to the whole thing that’s been rephrased however many times over by critics more erudite than I could or would ever be, or maybe the band is just dynamic (gasp!). They quiet down for “Nonsensical Whisper” at the end, too, so it’s not all shove, even if that does define the record in large part.

Pygmy Lush store

Persistent Vision Records website

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Sheev, Ate’s Alchemist

The second album from Berlin’s Sheev, Ate’s Alchemist, purports a theme of dark emotions and their ethereal origins, and I’m not entirely sure how that translates into the odd-timed chuggery that bookends “Elephant Trunk,” but the progressive metal/rockers make a showcase of scope across the eight cuts/49 minutes of the album, veering into and out of various microgenres, whether it’s the doomly overtone of “Cul de Sac” or the imagine-thrash-but-soaring of “Martef” after the intro “The Alchemist.” Clearly a band who’ve worked on their sound, who believe in what they do, and who have paid attention in class when it comes to fostering a unified feel across disparate sounds. There’s nowhere the album goes that finds Sheev out of place, and while the level of engagement for a given listener will depend on their ability to meet the band where they’re at, the arguments for doing so are myriad. There are about eight of them, actually. Funny how that’s the same number of songs included, right? Stick around for the mathy wash at the end of “Sabress.”

Sheev on Bandcamp

Ripple Music website

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Lähdön Aika, Mustalle Maalle

I mean, you might think you’re ready for what’s coming on Lähdön Aika‘s fourth full-length, Mustalle Maalle, but you’re probably wrong about that. Just because they’ve been a band for over 20 years doesn’t mean the atmospheric post-sludge extremists can’t still bash your skull with the throatripper-topped jabs of “Et enää mitään” or the speedy crusher “Paina pääsi alas” later on, the rawness of the vocals only one example of the levels on which the Finnish outfit make their sound an assault. As they make their way toward the 10-minute capper “Ihmishaketta,” “Teuraaksi Kastettu” delves into a post-metal that makes Amenra sound like Oasis and the lumber of “Viilto” becomes a downward march only after it’s already lowered the whole quarry onto your person. Physical oppression through music, is what I’m talking about. A grim world awaits you if you think you can handle it, but again, these guys are experienced. They know what they’re doing as they bask in the wanton slaughter of “Ikeestä.” It’s not an accident. There’s method to it. That makes the album feel even more dangerous.

Lähdön Aika website

Lähdön Aika on Bandcamp

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Fuzz Thrower, Fuzz Thrower

Some of the early vibes on “Beam” or “Stonewall Angel” on Fuzz Thrower‘s self-titled debut — on CD thanks to Off the Record Label imprint, PowerWax Records — remind of Sungrazer‘s mellow heavy psych circa 15 years ago, and certainly the drifty interlude “Waves” backs that up, but Netherlands-based multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Tjeerd de Jong (also of Phantom Druid) grunges out in the march of “Nowhere,” gets more Sabbath-doomed for “Drooler” and the penultimate “Pictures of the Moon,” hints toward goth metal in “Ocean in the Sky,” and rounds out the nodder riffing of “Soon We Roam” with a sampled poetry reading, so no, things are not so easily accounted for in a single comparison point. So much the better. Across the album’s 29 minutes, de Jong presents a strong sense of trying out ideas — the way the vocals rest on top of “The End is Open,” for example — that might bring progression to subsequent releases, but there’s already depth to spare in the songwriting of this first outing. If/when he buys a keyboard, watch out.

Fuzz Thrower on Bandcamp

Off the Record Label store

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Moths, Septem

It’s a secondary element, but don’t discount the synth work of drummer Daniel Figueroa on Moths‘ Septem EP, and if you’d like an example of why, check out “Pride.” The seven-track/26-minute offering takes each of its titles from the alleged seven deadly sins, with a full prog-metal brunt behind vocalist Mariel Viruet‘s noteworthy, growl-inclusive range as a singer. Guitarists Omar González (rhythm) and Jonathan Miranda (lead), bassist Weslie Negrón and Figueroa vary tempo and aggression to suit a given mood, and the keys are a bigger part of that than they might at first seem. Don’t tell the guitarists. The affect is definitely metal in pieces like “Gluttony” and “Greed,” while “Lust” lets the bass lead the groove, and “Wrath” — as good a place to end as any — pushes deeper into poised extremity with a blasting finish, the overarching density calling for nothing so much as repeat listens.

Moths on Bandcamp

Moths on Instagram

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Greenhead, Subherbia

Pairing aggro, low-throat growl sludge with jammier takes, psychedelia, proggy riffing and a resolution in Iommic swing, the 28-minute “Subherbia” from Greenhead‘s debut album of the same name encapsulates on its own the kind of range one might expect (hope) for from a newcomer band, but the Washington D.C. trio don’t end there. Side B brings “Indigo,” “All Seeing Eye,” “Nature’s Pyramid” and “Purple God,” riding the blurred line between modern stoner largesse and classic doom riffing cohesively, letting “Nature’s Pyramid” punk up its chorus a bit as a precursor to the gang shouts of “Purple God.” I don’t know what genre you call it and I don’t care. I’m just happy to hear a new band mashing styles together to see what sticks and coming out it with a first LP that practically smacks you in the face with its ambition. What comes of it or doesn’t, whatever. I’ll take Subherbia as-is, thanks, and hope I’m lucky enough to see them do it live at some point.

Greenhead Linktr.ee

Greenhead on Bandcamp

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Amsterdam progressive psych explorers Temple Fang aren’t yet finished touring in 2025. They have November dates listed below with Sowt and others on a tour specifically localized to the Netherlands. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if a live record (at least one) came out of that stint, but even a month ahead of going, the four-piece who earlier this year released a bona fide masterpiece in Lifted From the Wind (review here) through Stickman Records are unveiling the string of dates that will carry them from Hellseatic Fest in Germany back toward Desertfest Berlin, where headliners Crippled Black Phoenix will feature. I haven’t seen a confirmation yet for Temple Fang at DF, but it wouldn’t be shocking if they’re added later, so that asterisk on the poster might disappear.

Lifted From the Wind is one of a handful of records I’ve heard this year — Year of the Cobra, Author & Punisher, Stoned Jesus, etc. —  that’s contending hard for my album of the year pick, which, yes, I think about all year because I’m a nerd. Not going to apologize at this point; it’s been too long for that anyway. But the record’s on my mind, is what I’m saying, and it has been since before it came out at the end of April. I don’t expect that to stop between now and December. And I know my year-end list is nobody’s be-all-end-all, except perhaps my own — and even that, some years, I’m like, “Ah screw you, jerk” to myself (forever 2015) — but I hear a fair amount of music in a given day, week, month, decade, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say these guys were an absolute standout in 2025.

So here’s dates from socials:

We’re stoked to announce we’ll be joining Crippled Black Phoenix on their European run in May 26, see y’all there! 🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈

More TBA.

01-05 DE Bremen, Hellseatic
03-05 FR Paris, Petit Bain
04-05 NL Nijmegen, Doornroosje
05-05 DE Bielefeld, Forum
06-05 DE Køln, Volta
07-05 DE Karlsruhe, Substage
08-05 DE Aschaffenburg, Colos Saal
09-05 DE Lindau, Vaudeville
10-05 DE Reutlingen, Franz K.
11-05 DE München, Backstage
12-05 AT Vienna, Arena
13-05 HU Budapest, A38
14-05 CZ Prague, Rock Cafe
15-05 DE Dresden, Beatpol

For the upcoming NL tour, we’re psyched to be joined by some amazing bands, Eindhoven’s noise-mongers @sowt.band, Rotterdam’s dreamgazers @dazeinbed and our dear friend @ismenamusic_ . See y’all on the road! 🌈🌈🌈

Tix: https://linktr.ee/templefang

Temple Fang NL Tour 2025:
09-11 Victorie, Alkmaar w/ @sowt.band
14-11 Metropool, Hengelo w/ @sowt.band
20-11 Nobel, Leiden w/ @sowt.band
21-11 Mezz, Breda w/ @sowt.band
22-11 Willemeen, Arnhem w/ @sowt.band
28-11 Het Podium, Hoogeveen w/ @dazeinbed
29-11 dB’s, Utrecht w/ @sowt.band @ismenamusic_

Temple Fang:
Dennis Duijnhouwer – Bass, Vox
Jevin de Groot – Guitar, Vox
Ivy van der Veer – Guitar
Daan Wopereis – Drums

https://templefang.bandcamp.com/
https://www.instagram.com/templefang/
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http://stickmanrecords.bandcamp.com/
https://www.facebook.com/Stickman-Records-1522369868033940/

Temple Fang, Lifted From the Wind (2025)

The Answer Lies in the Black Void release their third album, Transcendental, on Sept. 26 through Lay Bare Recordings. And for something so inwardly metal, something that is as much about looking inside as out — realizing the only dividing line between the two is the self, also largely imaginary — the temptation is toward a kind of formality, but there is something deeply human about the work together of the partnered duo of Hungarian-born vocalist Martina Horváth and multi-instrumentalist Jason Köhnen.

You can see their respective pedigrees below, so I’ll spare you the cut-and-paste, but the two make up the whole of The Answer Lies in the Black Void as regards the studio incarnation, and from the lush break in opener “Deniers” where the walls of aural crush seem to be building up all around, waiting to crash in, to the march at the end of “Senkim” (is that ‘my nobody’ with the magyarul first-person possessive suffix at the end?) which would be death-doom were there not such a gorgeous melody floating over it, they blend poised instrumental aggression and doomed groove while portraying an ideology of discovery via craft.

Understand, I didn’t brush past the past bands and such in the paragraph above because I think Thy Catafalque and earliest Celestial Season aren’t worthy or relevant touchstones, but because the eight songs that comprise the 46-minute run of Transcendental isn’t about that. Its sound has its roots in doom and there are definite riffs at the roots of the songs, but electronic elements and keys add gothic flair to the nod in “Sine Morbo” (video premiering below) just ahead of Köhnen‘s guitar solo, and the purpose behind each change, subtle arrangement shift, or movement between parts is right there to be heard.

As they shift into the Bukowski-referencing “Love is a Dog From Hell,” both Horváth and Köhnen seem to revel in the quiet before the surge of the second half, double-kick, solo shred, soaring vocals and all for a payoff worthy of one of the best single lines of poetry the 20th century produced. “Senkim” follows and is the longest inclusion at seven-minutes, with a wispy keyboard line atop a slamming, weighted march. It feels very much like a moment of arrival for being at the presumed end of side A, and as with all of the component tracks, whatever the expanse is meant to convey, it comes with a corresponding emotional expressiveness.

And yes, dear regular reader who knows my sentence patterns, this is absolutely the part where I emphasize it’s also heavy as hell. Because it is, tonally, atmospherically, and by all accounts that I can tell, in the lyrics too. “The Summoning,” which starts side B and is the shortest cut at 4:59, marks a point of departure with a harsh vocal rasp that gives the backing roll a particularly sludgy bent, though the space is no less consuming than that of “Love is a Dog From Hell,” and the melody — indeed, layered harmony — isn’t far off in offering contrast.

But they wield extremity with the righteousness of experience, and “The Summoning” is well placed as both an indicator of an expanded mindset for the back of the album — that is, they’re telling the listener they have more to say than they’ve yet said on the record — and as a partial departure from the ground they’ve thus-far covered. The subsequent “Shattered by Wisdom,” which is only two seconds longer than “The Summoning,” pairs fluidly as a return to ground in terms of methodology. I wouldn’t say they sound comfortable, but like “Sine Morbo” or “Deniers,” “Shattered by Wisdom” feels like it’s drawing the listener deeper into the clear-eyed-through-the-fog murk of the band’s making.

Ambience comes further forward in the outset of “Deconstructed,” as Köhnen and Horváth take the time to dwell in the quieter beginning of the song before, as they approach the four-minute mark, a thicker chug of guitar enters the conversation and brings even gothier resonance with it. If Transcendental has a moment of transcendence, “Deconstructed” might be it, but in its solidified riffing and downer march, “Mists of Krakatoa” is more than an epilogue finale.

Horváth pushes her vocal range complemented by string sounds and the ensuing lumber, and the effect is near-operatic as they plunge into the slowdown and, via pickslide, the guitar disappears to let voice and strings carry a bridge to a lurching finale worthy of the procession before it. I haven’t broken out the scale to measure, but the ending of “Mists of Krakatoa” gets at least as heavy as any of the record’s heaviest moments, and still manages to keep its head and sense of reason going into the dropout that caps the album with just enough residual noise that, if you turn it back around to the start with the almost-whispered line “nothing will die” that precedes the crash-in of “Deniers,” the transition is smooth. Full circle, in other words, either intentionally or not.

There’s something extra-satisfying about that aspect, and for an album that expresses its intentions so clearly throughout, both in terms of how it’s communing with genre and how it’s breaking those rules, all the more fitting. “Sine Morbo,” just below, follows “The Summoning” (near the bottom of the post) as a single, and before I turn you over to the premiere you unquestionably clicked the link for in the first place, I’ll note that The Answer Lies in the Black Void take part Sept. 27 in the first-ever Lay Bare Fest in London (more info here).

Words from the band, album preorders and more a/v follow, courtesy of the PR wire:

The Answer Lies in the Black Void, “Sine Morbo” video premiere

The Answer Lies in the Black Void on “Sine Morbo”:

Sine Morbo [Latin / medical: “without disease”] reflects on how our society still tends to see an individual only as a physical form. Sine Morbo written on the paper, while the soul is ill. It is time to condition ourselves to treat the whole — mind, body, and spirit.

Preorder link: https://laybarerecordings.com/release/transcendental-lbr067

THE ANSWER LIES IN THE BLACK VOID, the alchemical collaboration between vocalist Martina Horváth (Thy Catafalque) and composer/multiinstrumentalist Jason Köhnen (Celestial Season, Bong-Ra, The Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble), will release their third full-length album, “Transcendental”, on September 26, 2025 via Lay Bare Recordings.

Rooted in their shared passion for doom in all its forms, Horváth and Köhnen formed THE ANSWER LIES IN THE BLACK VOID to explore the genre’s emotional and existential depths. Their self-styled Transcendental Metal blends doom’s crushing gravity with elements of folk, ambient and electronica – casting a wide, atmospheric net that captures both sonic weight and spiritual introspection.

Lyrically, the band dives deep into the complexities of the human psyche. Themes of inner struggle, psychological transformation, and the hidden architecture of the soul permeate their songs, giving their music a haunting emotional resonance that moves beyond the typical boundaries of metal. The result is a sound that is both soulcrushing and soul-searching.

Following their critically praised debut, “Forlorn” (2021), and the equally compelling “Thou Shalt” (2023), with their new album THE ANSWER LIES IN THE BLACK VOID continue to explore the depths of the human psyche, captivating listeners far beyond the typical boundaries of metal.

Promising another chapter of introspective heaviness and sonic exploration, “Transcendental” is set for release on September 26 via Lay Bare Recordings.

Release: 26.09.2025, Lay Bare Recordings

Tracklist:
01. Deniers
02. Sine Morbo
03. Love Is A Dog From Hell
04. Senkim
05. The Summoning
06. Shattered By Wisdom
07. Deconstructed
08. Mists Of Krakatoa

Line-up:
Martina Horváth
Jason Köhnen

The Answer Lies in the Black Void, Transcendental (2025)

The Answer Lies in the Black Void, “The Summoning” official video

The Answer Lies in the Black Void website

The Answer Lies in the Black Void on Bandcamp

The Answer Lies in the Black Void on Instagram

The Answer Lies in the Black Void on Facebook

Lay Bare Recordings website

Lay Bare Recordings on Bandcamp

Lay Bare Recordings on Instagram

Lay Bare Recordings on Facebook

This band is ready for you. The question is are you ready for them. And the answer is… maybe?, because The Answer Lies in the Black Void are out here on some ultra-churning post-metallic wavelength that makes most doom sound like the product of cave drawings, and on the just-sub-five-minute “The Summoning” — the first single from third LP Transcendental, out Sept. 26 as their first for Lay Bare — they unveil a litany of sounds horrifying, melodic, and sometimes both. If you can get to it, you’re probably already there.

The new album comes almost four years to the day after their debut, 2021’s Forlorn, as the Hungarian/Dutch outfit has expanded beyond the root duo of Horváth Martina and Jason Köhnen, and “The Summoning” is the track out today, but non-cornball/near-operatic closer “Mists of Krakatoa” was already streaming with its folkish strings and Horváth‘s soaring vocal, and that’s below as well. Stick around for the last march.

Note the Bukowski reference (“Love is a Dog From Hell”) as you make your way through the PR wire info below. Anybody remember books? When the printed word was a thing?:

THE ANSWER LIES IN THE BLACK VOID Announce New Album ‘Transcendental’ and Unveil Video for First Single ‘The Summoning’!

Preorder link: https://laybarerecordings.com/release/transcendental-lbr067

THE ANSWER LIES IN THE BLACK VOID, the alchemical collaboration between vocalist Martina Horváth (Thy Catafalque) and composer/multi-instrumentalist Jason Köhnen (Celestial Season, Bong-Ra, The Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble), have announced their third full-length album, “Transcendental”, set for release on September 26, 2025 via Lay Bare Recordings.

With the track “The Summoning”, the band has unleashed the first single today. The song is released alongside a brand new video, which you can watch here.

“‘The Summoning’ is the first single from our upcoming album – a bold introduction to the different visions we’re creating. We chose to surprise listeners with an experimental track that sets the tone for how we intend to reshape doom on our own terms, featuring the fierce screams of guest vocalist Laura Brat (Tragic)”, the band comments. “The state of ‘Unus Mundus’-to be one through space and time seems to stay only a fantasy. How could we have a unified reality through cosmos if our society can barely recognise oneself?”

Tracklist:
01. Deniers
02. Sine Morbo
03. Love Is A Dog From Hell
04. Senkim
05. The Summoning
06. Shattered By Wisdom
07. Deconstructed
08. Mists Of Krakatoa

Rooted in their shared passion for doom in all its forms, Horváth and Köhnen formed THE ANSWER LIES IN THE BLACK VOID to explore the genre’s emotional and existential depths. Their self-styled Transcendental Metal blends doom’s crushing gravity with elements of folk, ambient and electronica – casting a wide, atmospheric net that captures both sonic weight and spiritual introspection.

Lyrically, the band dives deep into the complexities of the human psyche. Themes of inner struggle, psychological transformation, and the hidden architecture of the soul permeate their songs, giving their music a haunting emotional resonance that moves beyond the typical boundaries of metal. The result is a sound that is both soul-crushing and soul-searching.

Following their critically praised debut, “Forlorn” (2021), and the equally compelling “Thou Shalt” (2023), with their new album THE ANSWER LIES IN THE BLACK VOID continue to explore the depths of the human psyche, captivating listeners far beyond the typical boundaries of metal.

Promising another chapter of introspective heaviness and sonic exploration, “Transcendental” is set for release on September 26 via Lay Bare Recordings and is now available for pre-order at
THIS LOCATION: https://laybarerecordings.com/release/transcendental-lbr067

https://www.theanswerliesintheblackvoid.com/
https://theanswerliesintheblackvoid.bandcamp.com/
https://www.instagram.com/theanswerliesintheblackvoid/
https://www.facebook.com/TheAnswerLiesInTheBlackVoid/

https://laybarerecordings.com/
https://laybarerecordings.bandcamp.com/
https://www.instagram.com/laybarerecordings/
https://www.facebook.com/laybarerecordings/

The Answer Lies in the Black Void, Transcendental (2025)

The Answer Lies in the Black Void, “The Summoning” official video

I know harsh industrial and experimentalist noise isn’t everybody’s thing. It isn’t really mine, if we’re being honest. But every now and then a probably-already-caustic artistic progression like that of Dutch two-piece All Are to Return veers into body-horror, or psychological horror, or in the case of “Arcology,” the band’s new single, a sandpaper-to-the-consciousness wash of unkind noise.

All Are to Return earlier in 2025 released their Līmen EP, for each song from which a video was made. One, for “The Augur,” premiered here. I’m not sure if the same thing is happening for “Arcology” or not, and I guess sometimes you just have to resign yourself to a thing being obscure. In a world surrounded by information, where data is traded as a commodity, having to wait for questions to be answered feels like part of the band’s aesthetic. Time will answer or it won’t. All Are to Return — the duo of F and N — draw a curtain of distorted drone over the piece’s five minutes, but for sure you can find yourself lost in it during that time, the soundwaves their own kind of undulating mantra, hypnotic for those either at or able to align to the frequencies.

And that’s really the question here, with “Arcology,” All Are to Return more broadly, or, zoomed out from that, any avant garde or experimentalist noise — which as much as it’s a genre has never been one geared toward accessibility — can you get to the level of expression the band are on? Do the evocations hit home as the line of synth before about the four-minute mark in “Arcology” recalls past better-futures already dissipated in a hellscape present? It can barely seem to be music, or words, but does it speak to you?

Thematically, All Are to Return purport to be exploring the endgame future of modern capitalism. Will you still pay rent or are we all just waiting for life itself to become a subscription service with a privacy agreement no one reads and a premium tier with increasing infiltration of advertising. As to how we got here, surely some know and others have a variety of guesses, but it doesn’t matter since if anything was ever to be learned from the horror-show the lesson would long since have been revealed. In All Are to Return, I hear our present moment, unfiltered. Years that new lows yet to be spiraled upon will have us pining for as “simpler times.” Imagine that for a minute.

Now you’re ready for “Arcology.” You’ll find it on the player below, followed by a quick quote from the band and more audio for your perusal.

Enjoy:

All Are to Return, “Arcology” premiere

“This is the edifice of the future. Incorporating dichotomies of in and outside – those who belong and that which is other. Conforming to corporate logics of profit and margins dictating entry and expulsion. It is the ultimate structure of enshrined privilege – the ark of capital – while the rest of us swelter and sink.”

All Are to Return, Līmen (2025)

All Are to Return, III (2024)

All Are to Return on Bandcamp

All Are to Return on Soundcloud

All Are to Return website