Head play the release party for their new album, Satisfaction, on Sept. 24. Released through Fuzzed and Buzzed Records and produced by Ian Blurton, the record runs a sans-bullshit nine songs and 29 minutes that remind that just because something doesn’t spend 15 minutes droning out (not that there’s anything wrong with that) doesn’t mean it can’t have an atmosphere. Head are rock and rollers. You can hear it in the tones and softshoe riff of guitarist Michael Starnino in “Shudder,” the warmer fuzz of Elyse Besler‘s bass on “Spell” and the shuffle in Hunter Raymond‘s drumming and singing on “Runaway,” as he steps forward with at least tacitly acknowledged post-Elvis warble as part of a series of lead/backing vocals tradeoffs with Besler that proves malleable throughout and is responsible for a good portion of the noted atmospherics.
She sings some, he sings some, they sing together, on closer “Hound Dog” they kind of sing a conversation, and though one is sad somehow to think of Starnino left out of the fun — because these songs are most certainly that; the ultra-funky “Queen” struts by with a regal wave and Besler belting out the lead part — he stays plenty busy occupying sometimes one channel, then the other, maybe both for solos that are alternately classy or drunkard-sway, depending on what the given track calls for. On “Queen,” for example, he makes the guitar sing.
The lines about “getting some” Head write themselves to an almost tragic degree, but so it goes. In terms of aesthetic, there’s a fascinating sense of ‘room’ about Satisfaction, in that the instruments sound isolated in the studio, resulting in each having its own definite space within the songs. As “Shudder” yawns awake before beginning its fuzz-buzzy (hey wait a second!) sub-three-minute procession — Raymond handling verses, Besler joining for the chorus — it sets up not only that (relative, fluid, not-just-one-then-the-other) balance between the two vocalists, but also the place each player occupies.
Guitar doesn’t bleed into the bass, bass doesn’t bleed into the guitar, and you would call the drums the unshakeable foundation of it all were “Shake” not the centerpiece of the record and one of the many boogie-minded offerings herein. I don’t know the recording circumstances, but that feel adds to the energy of Satisfaction and the glam-gone-grunge vibe that results, “Queen” and “Shake” leading to “Strychnine,” with Besler delivering one of the album’s strongest hooks — no shortage of competition — and a riff that feels like purely distilled Nirvana. Considering the punch and swing of “Runaway,” or “Shudder,” or the shove of “Queen,” “Strychnine” is something of a stylistic turn, but by the time you get there you won’t even blink. There’s no question Head are in control and know what’s up. It’s a party without being dudebro party rock, and still weird enough to be interesting. Ask more of a two-minute-and-forty-eight-second song, I dare you.
As regards track runtimes, “Spell” is the longest at 4:42, and it’s also arguably the slowest inclusion. The later “Out for Blood,” at 4:26, is more of a rush early on, with some mellowing for a longer solo stretch in its second half; more of a jam, from which they don’t bother coming back and really they don’t need to, having already long since demonstrated their songcraft. “Your Money” picks up with a more urgent chorus from Besler and Raymond, the line, “I want your money” part of a call and response between the two that’s familiar enough by then but still delivered with welcome vitality.
Like “Strychnine,” “Your Money” has a bit of grown-out-of-punk to its underlying parts, but Head make it their own they’ve done all across Satisfaction, leaving “Hound Dog” — not a cover — to blues shuffle their way through the end credits, a swinging epilogue to a record that hasn’t necessarily masked its intelligence, but for all its variety of arrangements holds to its lack of pretense. It’s a smart record, but cool about it, and in zero danger of overstaying its welcome.
The three-piece took part in Fuzzed and Buzzed‘s The Powder Box split box set, and the focus of that was on a kind of neo-glam rock, but that’s really just part of what Head offer, nodding to ’50s rock foundations, 1970s-style blues groove and the rougher heavy punk of the ’90s in a surprisingly encompassing spirit. But wherever they go, vibe goes with, and so nothing here — even “Hound Dog” tucked away at the end — feels out of place. Again, it’s hard to want anything more than they deliver.
I think this is live on Bandcamp now, so I don’t know if it counts as a premiere or whatever, but who cares. Stream the album below, and enjoy. Let go your worries for a little while:
Motörhead, Teenage Head, the head rush you got at recess smoking in the smoke pit at high school – all good things come with Head, including their new album Satisfaction. Hard charging rock ‘n roll that dares to rip off the Stones and spit it right back to mix with the blood and the vomit on the beer soaked dance floor. Satisfaction has 9 high octane tunes of rock ‘n roll swagger guaranteed to satisfy that prove – all you need is Head. Produced by underground rock legend, Ian Blurton, Satisfaction is available now on prestige black vinyl mastered by the heaviest of heads, Tony Reed, and only available on Fuzzed and Buzzed.
All vinyl copies of Satisfaction by Head will include a QR code to view the Head concert film “Almost Live at the Monarch!”
HEAD are: Hunter Raymond – Drums / Vocals Elyse Besler – Bass / Vocals Michael Starnino – Guitar
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 6th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I said on Monday (was that yesterday?) when I put up the Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree tour dates that I’d be doing a separate post for Toronto heavy rockers Low Orbit, and here we are. Those two tours — two of the many, many, many runs happening in Europe next month; everybody had the same idea for when the post-pandemic tourscape would align, and so it would seem to — will lock step for a few shows, Low Orbit also have shows alongside White Noise Generator and Sun of Sorrow, plus the Pink Tank Records Festival, so as the tone-hoisting Canadian now-four-piece make ready to cross the Atlantic and spread the good cheer and dense riffage of their 2021 album, Crater Creator (review here), it’s an occasion worth marking. Twice if necessary.
I haven’t had the fortune to see Low Orbit live — I’ve never been to Toronto and I don’t know if they’ve ever been to NJ, but I know a spot that could likely host them if they wanted to come through — but Crater Creator is a heavy crusher of riff and nod in the rawer Monolordian tradition of a big-lumbering-thing-coming-from-space-and-sitting-on-you, and I both own and regularly wear a Low Orbit t-shirt. That is not even close to being something I do for every band.
Dates follow, as per socials:
Greetings Earthlings….we will be embarking on an interstellar voyage across the Atlantic Ocean in the fall to perform a constellation of shows, including multiple dates with Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree and White Noise Generator. We will also be performing at the annual Pink Tank Records Festival for three dates….awesome poster designed in house by our very own Dave Adams.
20.10 Esslingen DE Komma * 21.10 Passau DE Tabakfabrik ** 22.10 Burghausen DE Juz ** 24.10 Prague CZ Balada Bar *** 25.10 Weimar DE C-Kellar * 26.10 Bielefeld DE Potemkin * 27.10 Hamburg DE Fundbuero ^ 28.10 Lubeck DE Treibsand ^ 29.10 Kiel DE Die Pumpe ^ 30.10 Nijmegen NL Onderbroek *
* w/ Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree ** w/ White Noise Generator *** w/ Sun of Sorrow ^ w/ Pink Tank Festival
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 12th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
One song and I’m sold. I’m sorry, but how many times a year are you going to get Curtis Mayfield flashbacks from a drum sound, let alone the horns and funky bass and guitar around it? UWUW are Toronto-born and feature none other than Ian Blurton — a mighty pedigree has he, but if you didn’t hear Ian Blurton’s Future Now‘s Second Skin (review here) when it was released last month, go ahead and do that — on guitar, vocals, keys and production alongside drummer Jay Anderson, formerly of Comet Control and currently in Lammping, and bassist Jason Haberman of The Wooden Sky.
Too rich in its underlying layers to be fully pop, the song “Scattered Ashes” nonetheless opens UWUW‘s upcoming four-song self-titled LP and exemplifies the built-on-jams style of what may or may not follow — I don’t know because I haven’t heard the full record. But again, after hearing this one track, I’m in for whatever the rest of the full-length will bring. It’s a thing I want to experience.
You can read a whole bunch about the album below, preorder, listen to the song, all that quietly kind of amazing stuff that we do every day and don’t even think about it anymore. Of course there’s music out there before something is released. Of course you can order it now and get it when it’s actually out, if not sooner. Incredible what gets taken for granted. But whether you’re taken aback by the wonders of our also-has-significant-downsides age or not, dig in:
Toronto Supergroup UWUW Announce Debut LP with Lead Single “Scattered Ashes”
Self Titled Album Releases October 21, 2022
UWUW (pronounced you-you) have just announced the release of their debut, self-titled LP with their lead single Scattered Ashes. With some of Toronto’s most experienced and revered musicians making this project possible, it’s no wonder why the sonic presence of this project demands your attention and doesn’t let you go. The impressive cast of players includes Jason Haberman of Dan Mangan and Yeahsun, Jay Anderson of Badge Epoque Ensemble, Biblical and Lammping, and Ian Blurton of Ian Blurton’s Future Now, Change of Heart, and C’mon. Giving the songs a voice are two of Toronto’s most distinctive songwriters: Chris A. Cummings aka Marker Starling, adding his distinct, easy-glide, story-telling charm to Box Office Poison, and Scattered Ashes, and Drew Smith (Bunny, The Bicycles), providing his trademark, 60s harmony pop and lyrical prowess to Staircase and Landlord. Scattered Ashes is the first offering from their upcoming self-titled album on We Are Busy Bodies, due out October 21st, 2022. Fans of Euroboys, T2, and Manfred Mann Chapter Three will be enamored with these exceptionally crafted and exciting compositions.
The lead single Scattered Ashes breathes soul and rock, while blurring sounds and influences which call to mind James Brown’s horn section and the compositional layers of experimental Beach Boys recordings. In response to the meaning behind his lyrics, singer Marker Starling says, “I attempted to shoehorn every stray apocalyptic thought I had circa Summer of 2021 into the song, including readings from the screenplay of Jean-Luc Godard’s Alphaville (1965). The world is ending, or perhaps, as Sun Ra believed, we’re already past the end of the world. You might end up dying for a cause, or even “just because.” Who knows what tomorrow may bring, and like The Zombies, being forever Hung Up on a Dream—in this case, a lost vision of a kind of hippie or punk utopia—is the only way to live your life, the only way to maintain a healing state of mind”.
UWUW came into being when Jay Anderson and Ian Blurton came together through a run of shows, backing mutual friend and singer/songwriter, Kate Boothman as her drummer, and guitarist, respectively. Anderson suggested bringing in Jason Haberman, a talented bassist, who Anderson had seen play with Toronto indie-folk band, The Wooden Sky. Realizing they didn’t want an instrumental record, they layered on bright horns and smooth vocals, lifting the songs from instrumental jams, to the undefinable yet distinctive sound that is, UWUW. Saxophonist, Jay Hey, was brought in to provide horn arrangements, along with Tom Richardson on trombone and Patrick McGroarty on trumpet, all three contributing on every song. The result is a blissfully cool album with music that will appeal to all listeners, from record store snobs, garage rock slobs, and even psych-pop heartthrobs!
1. Scattered Ashes 2. Staircase To The End Of The Night 3. Landlord 4. Box Office Poison
Jason Haberman – Bass, Keys Jay Anderson – Drums, Percussion Ian Blurton – Guitar, Keys, Vocals, Engineering, Mixing
Chris Cummings – Vocals on ‘Scattered Ashes’ and ‘Box Office Poison’ Drew Smith – Vocals on ‘Staircase To The End Of The Night’ and ‘landlord’ Jay Hay – Horn Arrangements, Saxophone Tom Richards – Trombone Patric McGroarty – Trumpet
Toronto heavy rockers Ol’ Time Moonshine release their third full-length, Magic, on Aug. 5 through Salt of the Earth Records. Preorders for the album are open… now.
No, wait.
Okay… now. Yes.
It is the band’s second release through Salt of the Earth following behind 2017’s ambitious and conceptual The Apocalypse Trilogies (review here) and 2014’s The Demon Haunted World (review here), and works off the band’s stated ethic of turning, “lead into gold,” in classic alchemical fashion.
There’s no denying that when a band clicks in terms of sound, chemistry, dynamic, even just personally, there’s an a-very-good-thing-is-happening serotonin release, or as the long-player puts it, a kind of Magic. Ethereal as the notion might be, if their intent is to convey these more-than-sum-of-parts aspects of what happens when the jams work, well, they’ve got the right jams. And the ethic holds, from the Deliverance-era C.O.C. burl of “Chrononaut” (premiering below), “Dark Clouds of Doom” and “Hexslinger” punching through the opening salvo, to the later hooky nod of “Sweet Black Angel,” the momentary letting loose of the seven-minute “Higher Learning” (longest track and presumed end of a vinyl side A), or the head-down shove that caps the penultimate “Transmissions” (shortest track at 3:30), which moves from highlight vocal melodies and open spaces into one of Magic‘s most physically urgent progressions and still leaves room for “Where Giants Rest” to close out with pointed structures encased in a slower, more languid flow and just a moment’s break before the last, swirling solo takes hold to lead the way out of the album.
Along their many-riffed and delightfully crunchy path, the four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Bill Kole, bassist/backing vocalist Jesse Mackowycz, guitarist Chris Coleiro and drummer Adam Saitti are united in their purpose toward both sides of the style in which they reside — they’re heavy and they rock — but there is more character in their delivery and songwriting than a simple aping of genre tropes would imply. Truth is there always has been, but the John Critchley recording and Greg Dawson mix — the latter crucial since it brings a harder edge to the presentation than the band has had previously — as well as the fresh take on groove of Saitti and Mackowycz, who are both new to the band as of this record, creates a combination of elements that seems to bring it all together such that by the time Angela Neatby of well-kept-Québecois-secret Muffler Crunch sits in alongside Kole on vocals for “Please, Please” after the first four cuts, the very arrangement of the album itself becomes part of the richness that continues to grow as “Sweet Black Angel” rolls out languid after.
As you listen to “Chrononaut” on the player below, keep in mind not only it as part of a first-of-three as it seems very much intended to be in the company of “Dark Clouds of Gloom” and “Hexslinger,” but also how some of the later instrumental melodicism will manifest on vocals as well as guitar, Magicproving able to evoke mood while also going about its tasks of craft with a we’re-just-a-band-playing-riffs-man-shaped void where pretense might otherwise be. Like the record as a whole, “Chrononaut” reveals more depths of tonality and mix on subsequent listens, and really, going through a couple times will only get the song stuck in your head, which after listening once is where you’ll likely want it to be. So have fun with that.
Band comment, album preorder links and other info follow.
Please enjoy:
Ol’ Time Moonshine, “Chrononaut” lyric video premiere
Ol’ Time Moonshine on “Chrononaut”:
“Chrononaut” opens the album strong and was an easy choice for the first single with its heavy groove and big chorus. The lyrics tell the tale of the Chrononaut, a time travelling scientist seeking to find the beginning and end points of history to help them understand their place in time and space. Gabby Vessoni created the official lyric video for us, and did an amazing job.
Ol’ Time Moonshine have dabbled in the dark arts of riff alchemy with their third album, “Magic”. A rockin’ & rollin‘, dynamic exploration of all that is heavy, these 8 tracks are loaded with hooks and full throttle groove. Lead turned into gold.
Recorded and engineered by Juno award winner John Critchley and mixed and mastered by Greg Dawson (Grale, Olde), Ol’ Time Moonshine have never sounded better, expanding on the sound of their first two releases to deliver their darkest, most dynamic album yet.
Less conceptual than their sophomore release, “The Apocalypse Trilogies”, but still layered in meaning (and riffs!), “Magic” is a much more melodic album than their previous releases, but certainly no less heavy in execution.
“Magic” sees Ol’ Time Moonshine welcome a new rhythm section: Adam Saitti (Gypsy Chief Goliath, Georgian Skull) on drums and Jesse Mackowycz (Bad Blood, Quarter Tank) on bass.
Pre-release On Sale Date: July 18th, 2022 Album Launch: August 5th Available on CD and digital
In Canada: http://www.oltimemoonshine.bandcamp.com US & International: http://www.saltoftheearthrecords.com
Available on all major streaming services on or shortly after launch date.
Ol’ Time Moonshine: Bill Kole – lead vocals, lead and rhythm guitar Chris Coleiro – rhythm and lead guitar Adam Saitti – drums Jesse Mackowycz – bass and backing vocals
[Click play above to stream Ian Blurton’s Future Now’s Second Skin in full. Album is out Friday, July 15, on Seeing Red Records and Pajama Party.]
Ian Blurton on Second Skin:
While not a concept album per se, it does have reoccurring musical and lyrical ideas. Lyrically it’s mostly about moving forward from things you don’t want to live with, hence the theme of rebirth, the idea of rejecting what you don’t believe in and also saving things worth saving from destruction and the idea of progress. Cover artist Jeremy Bruneel has taken a number of these lyrical themes and painted them into the cover so they are represented visually as well.
Once we had been accepted as Artist in Residence at The NMC in Calgary we knew that we would have a proper Mellotron at our disposal so I began writing with that in mind. That brought forward the idea of making a more proggy record than the last and having three or four longer songs.
One of the themes of the record is community and that became real-life when we put out a call for amps as we were recording in Calgary/flying there. Local Calgary bands and musicians (Woodhawk, Ramblin’ Ambassadors, etc) offered up gear and we are forever indebted to their kindness. This same sense of community also made us realize that this record wouldn’t have happened the same way without the contributions of the artists, musicians, engineers, mixers, etc each who believed in it and added their own touches until the project became a whole.
In a world and a time of antiheroes, Ian Blurton is a hero. Where so much of the art that surrounds us on a day-to-day, be it commercial creative work on television, movies, videogames, music videos, and so on, or the literature and fine arts we as humans engage with, authenticity is regularly judged by the darkness of a work, the ‘grittiness’ factor that makes things that are difficult, challenging or traumatizing feel truer to life than those that aren’t. I’m not saying this is right or wrong, and I’m not calling for a change or a reversion back to some false ideal of a time when it was different. No. All I’m saying is that Ian Blurton, based in Toronto and on the cusp of releasing the second album with Ian Blurton’s Future Now, is a hero.
This is because, where so many others are not, Blurton is willing to take the risk of creating something fresh that diverts from the expectations of its own era. Something that is neither fluff to be tossed off when done, nor saccharine in its sweeter aspects, nor void of substance or message because it isn’t violent or dark or depressing. Second Skin is the sophomore long-player from this incarnation of Blurton‘s long-established persona behind 2019’s Signals Through the Flames (review here), a sweaty-summer-sun collection of nine songs playing out across 44 minutes of brazen heavy rock informed by classic metal riffs — Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, ’80s-style dual-guitar grandiosity between Blurton (also vocals, keys, production) and Aaron Goldstein — and an abiding classic groove channeled through bassist/vocalist Anna Ruddick (City and Colour) and drummer/vocalist Glenn Milchem (also Blue Rodeo).
Blurton‘s storied history as an artist and producer — working in bands like Public Animal, Cowboy Junkies, and so on, as well as being who in Toronto you want to record your heavy rock album, as demonstrated through records by Electric Magma, Cursed, Blood Ceremony and many, many others — is on display in the songwriting and performance here. But the truth is that even if you have no idea who he is or what he’s done in his career going back nearly four decades, the barriers to entry on Second Skin are nil. It could not be easier to get on board.
Like the best of pop, Second Skin is able to turn a three-minute song into an epic and make a seven-minute track feel like a breeze. It does this immediately upon pressing play, with the careening “Like a Ghost” (3:13) and the subsequent, damn-near-power-metal-except-it-isn’t title-track (7:12) establishing quickly the spaces in which Blurton, Goldstein, Ruddick and Milchem will work. Urgent in their delivery but unhurried either in tempo or in their movement between verses, choruses and showcasing depth even unto Milchem‘s ride cymbal taps after the two-minute mark in “Like a Ghost” or perfectly timed snare nod amid the starts and stops of the later “Beyond Beholds the Moon.” “Second Skin” rolls out with leads over central riffs, and its shove isn’t to be understated, building metallic momentum with heavy rock fuzz and an according breadth of melody as it arrives at the title line, finally, that release. Keyboard sets up the movement into the second half of the track, and the balance in mix, the resurgent rhythm, and the intensity that ensues en route to the next chorus is nothing short of masterful. There’s a reason that in Toronto, so I’m told, he’s referred to as “Sir” Ian Blurton.
Second Skin is universally crafted at this grade. No letup. “The Power of No” (3:51) chugs and swings with graceful ease, rooted in rock traditionalism in their side A momentum build, and as the the stomping “When the Storm Comes Home” (3:12) hands out its Scorpions-via-grunge-jangle progression, the effect is a guitar highlight standing apart from a slew of compatriots, as well as a shift into “Orchestrated Illusions” (4:51). rightly placed as the centerpiece for its nestled-in groove, expansive melodicism and memorable, likewise open chorus. At the presumed end of the side A and peppered with gorgeously toned solos in its second half, “Orchestrated Illusions” feels very much like the arrival that the the first five songs of Second Skin have been pushing toward, and its long fade and resonant acoustic guitar/keyboard ending is wholly earned.
So too is the quick reset as side B’s “Denim on Denim” (3:57). “It’s like heaven on heaven,” according to the lyrics, and kind of like “Looks That Kill” in its midsection riff, and fair enough. Another righteous hook, another metal-turned-into-rock movement, and another strong showcase of craft, pulls the listener back to ground after the hypnotic finish “Orchestrated Illusions” and before the closing trilogy of “Beyond Beholds the Moon” (6:30), “Too High the Sky” (5:03) and “Trails to the Gate/Second Skin Reprise” (6:36) round out the offering by pushing farther outward from the foundation “Denim on Denim” provides — a Mellotron early in “Beyond Beholds the Moon” is a sign of the shift into the album’s next stage, but it’s by no means the first keys, as noted. Growing burly by its finish — the aforementioned snare groove included — there’s no dip in the quality of craft.
Rather, set up earlier by “Second Skin,” “Beyond Beholds the Moon,” the harmonized unfolding of the proggy and fluid but still in motion “Too High the Sky” (with guest Sean Beresford on guitar) and the ’70s-futurist-meets-slow-Slayer finish of “Trails to the Gate/Second Skin” (with Robin Hatch on piano in its latter reaches) are in clear conversation with what preceded them on the record as well as off, and the final lyric, “It’s just a second skin,” resounds with no less vitality than the opening line of “Like a Ghost,” which was, “Do you want to believe?” If you ever did, there are no shortage of reasons to in these songs. Because that’s what heroes do. They make you believe.
The narrative of Second Skin (blessings and peace upon it) tells that Ian Blurton’s Future Now made the album on the Rolling Stones Mobile studio — used not only by Rolling Stones to create Exile on Main Street and Sticky Fingers, but also ultra-classics from Mk. II Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin and others — as well as a slew of accordingly pedigreed vintage gear at Canada’s National Music Center in Calgary, Alberta. Whether it was bringing energy from their live shows to this setting or Blurton‘s own vision as producer, Second Skin indeed communes with these spirits while boasting a level of class that is simply its own. Rock and roll is lucky to have it.
Ian Blurton’s Future Now, “Like a Ghost” official video
[Click play above to stream C.Ross’ Skull Creator in full. Album is out July 13 on Echodelick Records, Noise Agony Mayhem, Party Product and Ramble Records.]
C.Ross is a new not-quite-solo incarnation of guitarist, singer and songwriter Chad Ross, best known these days as the frontman for Toronto cosmic blissmakers Comet Control, also formerly of Quest for Fire and The Deadly Snakes, and Skull Creator is the first outing under the new nom de plume. In the past, Ross has issued material apart from bands under the guise of Nordic Nomadic, with at least two full-lengths out in a 2007 self-titled (there are still CDs on Bandcamp; I just bought one and you can too) and 2011’s Worldwide Skyline (review here), which served as something of a bridge as regards studio work between the then-coming end of Quest for Fire, who’d still play live into 2012 before breaking up in earliest 2013, and the beginning of Comet Control that same year.
How, then, is C.Ross not Nordic Nomadic? Two things. First, 2011 was 11 years ago, and sometimes you decide to put something in your own name, or at least closer to it. Second, the recording situation and other players involved is different. Though Ross is certainly the defining presence of Skull Creator‘s eight songs and 44 minutes, his layered vocal harmonies and quiet guitar are rarely alone, as even “The Stranger” is fleshed-out with his own Mellotron-style keyboards, often subtle but definitely there bass, and drums by Joshua Wells (Destroyer, Lightning Dust, ex-Black Mountain), who is the other key contributor, handling production, percussion, the mix, more keys, drums, and so on.
The first thing one hears upon clicking play or lowering the needle, is, in fact drums leading into “Buzzin’ in the Bush,” which feels like a conscious decision even if it wasn’t on the part of Ross as figurehead of the project to immediately shift expectation away from solo-acoustic singer-songwriterism. As drifty and serene as Skull Creator gets between the swelling key-strings of “Takin’ a Dip” and the chirping crickets of side B leadoff “On Golden Pond,” there’s always more going on than guy-and-guitar navelgazing.
Aaron Goldstein‘s pedal steel, as heard echoing in the distance of closer “Tracks in the Snow,” adds to the lush ambience there, and Isaiah Mitchell of Earthless, The Black Crowes, etc., also contributes guitar to “Buzzin’ in the Bush,” “Skull Creator” and “On Golden Pond,” not having taken part in the writing but making a mark nonetheless as one might expect. All of this works out to a style that is sublimely mellow, even at its most active points — the tambourine and guitar finish of “Buzzin’ in the Bush” might qualify, or the relatively uptempo second half of the penultimate “Way Too Nice” — and an acid folk rock spirit that is decidedly Ross‘ own.
Those who’ve followed his work over the last decade-plus through Quest for Fire and Comet Control if not also Nordic Nomadic will find Skull Creator recognizable from the vocal melodies alone, as Ross‘ voice, with a breathy, almost sleepy delivery and ready to either stand on its own or add to a wash, doing both on “Wrong Side of the Sky” here with clearer early verses and Wells‘ drums guiding the listener through the layered reaches that comprise most of the song’s second half, pedal steel and all.
And the persona is different because so are the players involved, but the foundational movement of “Skull Creator” itself — the longest inclusion at 7:24 and the end of the vinyl’s side A — resonates along a similar wavelength as some of Quest for Fire‘s work in its bridging of psych, fuzz and folk, but the backing lines of synth, keys, guitar effects, whatever it is, that helps craft that languid roll that defines the song and seems to hit the first of two crescendos right as it approaches its midpoint en route to a dug-in, ultra-fluid light-footed march for the duration, drawing from heavy psych tenets while holding to its wistful spirit overall.
Thinking of “Skull Creator” as a summary for the album that shares its name, it doesn’t quite represent everything on offer in the snare work of “Takin’ a Dip,” the already-noted nature sounds and the suitably wet guitar reverb of “On Golden Pond,” and the almost foreboding would-be-cello-but-is-either-synth-or-bass drone that emerges in the first half of “Tracks in the Snow” and returns to bolster the finish, but it’s a significant sprawl just the same, and the leads into it from the relatively forward “Wrong Side of the Sky” and out of it from the soft guitar intro to “The Stranger” — following the side flip, if you’re listening to the LP — hold together the flow of Skull Creator as an entire work, which is pivotal to the overarching impression made.
About that. It may take repeat listens to let the songs sink in on their own, the ways in which they function together and their individual purposes. The ramble in “Buzzin’ in the Bush” and its casual counterpart “Takin’ a Dip” in the opening salvo — the two shortest cuts save for “Way Too Nice” (4:21) near the end — set up a pastoralism even as they so completely push back on any expectation of solo folk fare. Not that one person can’t be an entire band, just that Skull Creator works quickly to establish that that’s not what’s happening with C.Ross. The Beatlesy turn in “Takin’ a Dip” just after the stop at 3:14 underscores the point of a full-group realization happening, and however it was put together, in layers across different locales or altogether with Wells at the Balloon Factory in Vancouver.
Even when it’s just Ross and Wells, as on “Takin’ a Dip,” “The Stranger” or “Way Too Nice,” that feel is maintained as a uniting factor across material that is varied in mood but drawn together by its open atmosphere and a level of craft colorful enough to suit daytime or night airings, those insects in “On Golden Pond” complementing a sunset-on-water shimmer and the cool nighttime air that follows. Similar evocations of place, time and mind take place throughout Skull Creator, and though Ross has posited that he started the album as a way of “making fun of myself,” the sincerity of the record’s and his expressiveness in doing so are unquestionable. Is it a walk in the woods? Fire crackling with fresh wood? Wherever you find yourself, the point is getting there.
Today’s Friday, and in most but a decreasing number of circumstances, that means a Quarterly Review is over. Not this one. Remember, doublewide means it goes to 100 albums. The really crazy part? It could go longer. I could add another day. It could go to 11! Have I done that before?
Probably. That Spinal Tap reference is too obvious for me to have never made it. In any case, I’ve got something booked for Monday after next already, so I won’t be adding another day, but I could just on the releases that came in over the last couple days. Onto the list for next time. Late September/early October, I think.
If you’re hurting for Quarterly Review in the meantime? Yeah, stick around. There’s a whole other week coming up. That’s what I’ve been saying. Have a great weekend and we’ll pick back up on Monday with another 10 records.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
The John Denver Airport Conspiracy, Something’s Gotta Give
Hail Toronto psych. The John Denver Airport Conspiracy released Something’s Gotta Give as a 16-tracker name-your-price Bandcamp download nearly a year ago, and vinyl delays give squares like yours truly who missed it at the time another opportunity to get on board. The 14-song LP edition runs 42 minutes, and it’s time well spent in being out of its own time, a pedal steel Americana-fying the ’60s drift of “Comin’ Through” while “Jeff Bezos Actually Works for Me” pairs garage strum-and-strut with a cavernous echo for an effect like shoegaze that looked up. “2000 November” and closer “The Lab” dares proto-punk shimmy and “Green Chair” has that B3 organ sound and lazy jangle that one can’t help but associate with 1967, “Ya, I Wonder” perhaps a few years before that, but “The Big Greaser” works in less directly temporal spaces, and the whole album is united by an overarching mellow spirit, not totally in a fog because actually the structures on some of these songs are pretty tight — as they were in the 1960s — but they’ve definitely and purposefully kept a few screws loose. Their sound may solidify over time and it may not, but as a debut album, Something’s Gotta Give is deceptively rich in its purpose and engaging in its craft and style alike. I wish I’d heard it earlier, I’m glad to have heard it now.
Clara Engel‘s experimentalist folk songwriting moves into and across and over and through various traditions and methods, but their voice is as resonant, human and unifying as ever, and that’s true from “O Human Child” through the softly echoing guitar pieces “Golden Egg” and “High Alien Priest,” the more ethereal “Glass Mountain,” and so on, while excursions like “I Drink the Rain,” “Cryptid Bop” and “Dead Tree March” earlier add not only instrumental flourish but an avant garde sensibility consistent with Engel‘s past work, even if as songs they remain resoundingly cohesive. That is to say, while founded on experimentalist principles, they are built into songs rather than presented in their rawest form. The inclusion of organ in finale “The Devils are Snoring” is striking and complements the minimalist vocals and backing drone, but by then Engel has long established their ability to put the listener where they wants, with the image of “Rowing Home Through a Sea of Golden Leaves” duly poetic to suit the music as demonstration. Gorgeous, impassioned, hurt but striving and ever moving forward creatively. Engel‘s work remains a treasure for those with ears to hear it. “I Drink the Rain” is an album unto itself.
Though the initial push of doomer riffing and melodic vocals in the post-intro title-track “Weird Tales” reminds a bit of Apostle of Solitude, the hooky brand of heavy wrought by Chilean three-piece Cormano — vocalist/guitarist Aaron Saavedra, bassist/backing vocalist Claudio Bobadilla, drummer/backing vocalist Rodrigo Jiménez — on their debut full-length is more about rock than such morose proceedings, and in fact it’s the prior intro “La Marcha del Desierto” that makes that plain. They’ll delve into psychedelic airiness in “El Caleuche” — the bassline underneath a highlight on its own — and if you read “Bury Me With My Money” as a capitalist critique, it’s almost fun instead of tragic, but their swing in “Urknall” and the roll of “Rise From Your Grave” (second Altered Beast reference of this Quarterly Review; pure coincidence) act as precursor to the thickened unfurling of “Futuere” and “A Boy and His Dog,” a closing pair that reinforce Cormano‘s ultimate direction as anything but settled, the latter featuring a pointedly heavy crash before a surprisingly gentle finish. Will be curious to see where their impulses lead them, but Weird Tales is that much stronger for the variety currently in their influences.
Like the rest of reality, Baltimorean heavy psychedelic blues rockers Black Lung have undergone a few significant changes in the last three years. Guitarist/vocalist Dave Cavalier (also Mellotron) and drummer/synthesist Elias Schutzman (also Revvnant, ex-The Flying Eyes) bid farewell to fellow founding member Adam Bufano (guitar, also ex-The Flying Eyes) and brought in Dave Fullerton to fill the role, while also, for the first time, adding a bassist in Charles Braese. Thus, their first record for Heavy Psych Sounds, the J. Robbins-produced/Kurt Ballou-mixed Dark Waves is a notable departure in form from 2019’s Ancients (review here), even if the band’s core methodology and aesthetic are the same. The sound is fuller, richer, and more able to hold the various Mellotrons and other flourishes, as well as the cello in “Hollow Dreams” and guest vocals on “Death Grip” and guest keys on “The Cog” and “The Path.” Taking inspiration from modern global uncertainties sociopolitical, medical and otherwise, the band put you in a mind of living through the current moment, thankfully without inducing the level of anxiety that seems to define it. Small favors amid big riffs. With shades of All Them Witches and further psychedelic exploring transposed onto their already-a-given level of songwriting, Black Lung sound like they’re making a second debut.
Make a big space and fill it with righteousness. Finland’s Slowenya are born out of an experimentalist hotbed in Turku, and the three-piece do justice to an expectation of far-out tendencies across the nonetheless-concise 31 minutes and six songs of Meadow, their second long-player in as many years. There’s an undercurrent of metal as “Synchronized” holds forth with a resilient, earthy chug, but the melodicism that typifies the vocals running alongside is lighter, born of a proggy mindset and able to keep any overarching aggression in check. With synths, samples, and ambient sounds filling out the mix — not that the massive tonality of the guitar and bass itself doesn’t do the job — a breadth is cast from “Intro” onward through “Nákàn” and the gone-full-YOB swell of “Irrevocable,” which is yet another of the tracks on Meadow one might hear and expect to be 20 minutes long and instead is under seven. The penultimate “Transients” pushes deeper into drone, and “Resonate and Relate” (7:53) caps Slowenya‘s impressive second LP with a due blend of melodic wash and lurching rhythmic physicality, the screams into a sudden stop effectively carrying the threat of more to come. You want to hear this.
As their growing fanbase immediately set about waiting for their third full-length after 2021’s Electric Temple, Norwegian heavy-broodgaze trio Superlynx issued at the very end of the year the Solstice EP, combining covers from Saint Vitus, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Nat King Cole (because obviously he’d be third on that list) and Nirvana with two originals in “Reorbit” and “Cosmic Wave.” As bassist/vocalist Pia Isaksen has already put out a solo release in 2022, drummer Ole Teigen has a blues band on the side among other projects, and one assumes guitarist Daniel Bakken is up to something else as well, Solstice serves as a welcome holdover of momentum after the album. It’s worth the price of admission (eight Euro) for the take on Nirvana‘s “Something in the Way” alone, but the so-slow-it-sounds-like-it’s-about-to-fall-apart “Reorbit” and the leadoff adaptation of “Born Too Late” enforces that song’s message with a modernized and made-even-more slogging sense of defeat. Maybe we were all born too late. Maybe that’s humanity’s fucking problem. Anyway, after you get this, get Isaksen‘s solo record as Pia Isa. You won’t regret that either, especially with the subdued vibe in some of the material on this one.
The always-hit-record ethic of multinational conglomerate jammers Øresund Space Collective pays dividends once again as Oily Echoes of the Soul emerges publicly — it was previously released in a different form to Bandcamp subscribers — as carved from a session all the way back in 2010. At the time I’m pretty certain all members of the band actually lived in Denmark, but sitarist K.G. Westman, who appeared here while still a member of Siena Root, is from Sweden, so whatever. Ultimately the affair is less about where they’re from than where you’re going while hearing it, which is off to a laid-back, anything goes psychedelic improvisation, beginning with the funky and suitably explorational, half-hour-long opener “Bump and Grind ØSC Style” before moving into the sitar-led “Peace of Mynd” (13:27) and the 24-minute title-track’s organic surges and recessions of volume; proggy, ’70s, and unforced as they are. Before twang-happy and much shorter closer “Shit Kickin'” (4:10), the 15-minute “Deep Breath for the EARTH” offers affirmation of the project’s reliably expansive sound. I’ve made no secret that I listen to this band in no small part for the emotionally and/or existentially soothing facets of their sound. Those are on ready display here, and I’ll be returning to this 12-year-old session accordingly.
Recorded in Dec. 1997 at Zone Six‘s practice space, the two-song Beautiful EP portrays a much different band than Zone Six ultimately became, with Australian-born vocalist Jodi Barry and then-Liquid Visions members Dave “Sula Bassana” Schmidt (bass, effects), Hans-Peter Ringholz (guitar, noise) and drummer/recording specialist Claus Bühler as well as keyboardist/etc.-ist Rusty and bringing two longform, molten works of pioneering-at-the-time heavy psychedelia. I mean, we’re talking 20 years ahead of their time, at least, here. It’s still forward-thinking. The guitars and breathy vocals in “Something’s Missing” are a joy and “Beautiful” plays off drone-style atmospherics with intermittently jazzy verses and a more active rhythm, winding guitar and pervasively spaced mindbending. Imagining what could’ve been if this record had been finished, one could repaint the scope of 2010s-era European heavy psychedelia as a whole, but on their own, the two extended inclusions on the 23-minute EP are a gorgeous glimpse at this fleeting moment in time. It is what it says it is.
LINK
TO THE PAST
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The Cimmerian, Thrice Majestic
Thrice Majestic and four-times barbarous comes this debut EP release from Los Angeles’ The Cimmerian, a new trio featuring Massachusetts expat David Gein (ex-bass, The Scimitar, etc.) on guitar, and the brand of heavy that ensues readily crosses the line between metal and doom, as the galloping “Emerald Scripture” reinforces directly after the eight-minute highlight and longest groover “Silver and Gold.” Drummer David Morales isn’t shy with the double-kick and neither should he be, and bassist/vocalist Nicolas Rocha has a bark that reminds of Entombed‘s L.G. Petrov, and that is not a compliment I’m ever going to hand out lightly. Lead cut “Howls of Lust and Fury” promises High on Fire-ist thrash in its opening, but The Cimmerian‘s form of pummel goes beyond any single point of inspiration, even on this presumably formative suckerpunch of an EP, which balances intensity and nod in the finishing move “Neck Breaker,” a last growl perhaps the most brutal of all. Fucking a. More of this.
You could probably sit and parse out where Ultracombo are coming from — geographically, it’s Vincenza, Italy — in terms of sound on the sequentially titled follow-up to 2019’s Season I (review here), but to do so denies the double-guitar five-piece credit for the obvious efforts they’ve put into making this material their own. Those efforts pay off in the listening experience of the five-tracker, which runs 25 minutes and so offers plenty enough to make an impression. Witness the slowdown in centerpiece “Umanotest” or the keyboard-or-keyboard-esque lead in the back half of the prior “Follia,” the added jammy feel in “Specchio,” the this-is-the-difference-the-right-drummer-makes “12345” or the return of the synth and an added bit of playfulness before the big ending in — what else? — “La Fine.” That this EP manages to careen and pull such hairpin turns of rhythm is a triumph unto itself. That it manages to do so without sounding like Queens of the Stone Age feels like a fucking miracle. “Dear Ultracombo, Hope you’re well. Time to make an album. Put in an interlude or two depending on space. Sincerely, some dude on the internet.”
Here begins day two of 10. I don’t know at what point it occurred to me to load up the Quarterly Review with killer stuff to make it, you know, more pleasant than having it only be records I feel like I should be writing about, but I’m intensely glad I did.
Seems like a no brainer, right? But the internet is dumb, and it’s so easy to get caught up in what you see on social media, who’s hyping what, and the whole thing is driven by this sad, cloying FOMO that I despise even as I participate. If you’re ever in a situation to let go of something so toxic, even just a little bit and even just in your own head — which is where it all exists anyhow — do it. And if you take nothing else from this 100-album Quarterly Review besides that advice, it won’t be a loss.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Magnatar, Crushed
Can’t say they don’t deliver. The eight-song/38-minute Crushed is the debut long-player from Manchester, New Hampshire’s Magnatar, and it plays to the more directly aggressive side of post-metallic riffing. There are telltale quiet stretches, to be sure, but the extremity of shouts and screams in opener “Dead Swan” and in the second half of “Crown of Thorns” — the way that intensity becomes part of the build of the song as a whole — is well beyond the usual throaty fare. There’s atmosphere to balance, but even the 1:26 “Old” bends into harsh static, and the subsequent “Personal Contamination Through Mutual Unconsciousness” bounces djent and post-hardcore impulses off each other before ending up in a mega-doom slog, the lyric “Eat shit and die” a particular standout. So it goes into “Dragged Across the Surface of the Sun,” which is more even, but on the side of being pissed off, and “Loving You Was Killing Me” with its vastly more open spaces, clean vocals and stretch of near-silence before a more intense solo-topped finish. That leaves “Crushed” and “Event Horizon” to round out, and the latter is so heavy it’s barely music and that’s obviously the idea.
Three longform cosmic rock excursions comprise Wild Rocket‘s Formless Abyss — “Formless Abyss” (10:40), “Interplanetary Vibrations” (11:36) and “Future Echoes” (19:41) — so lock in your harness and be ready for when the g-forces hit. If the Dubliners have tarried in following-up 2017’s Disassociation Mechanics (review here), one can only cite the temporal screwing around taking place in “Interplanetary Vibrations” as a cause — it would be easy to lose a year or two in its depths — never mind “Future Echoes,” which meets the background-radiation drone of the two inclusions prior with a ritualized heft and slow-unfurling wash of distortion that is like a clarion to Sagan-headed weirdos. A dark-matter nebula. You think you’re freaked out now? Wild Rocket speak their own language of sound, in their own time, and Formless Abyss — while not entirely without structure — has breadth enough to make even the sunshine a distant memory.
An awaited debut full-length from Brooklyn multimedia artist/producer Brandon Gallagher, Trace Amount‘s Anti Body Language sees release through Greg Puciato‘s Federal Prisoner imprint and collects a solid 35 minutes of noise-laced harsh industrial worldbreaking. Decay anthems. A methodical assault begins with “Anxious Awakenings” and moving through “Anti Body Language” and “Eventually it Will Kill Us All,” the feeling of Gallagher acknowledging the era in which the record arrives is palpable, but more palpable are the weighted beats, the guttural shouts and layers of disaffected moans. “Digitized Exile” plays out like the ugliest outtake from Pretty Hate Machine — a compliment — and after the suitably tense “No Reality,” the six-minute “Tone and Tenor” — with a guest appearance from Kanga — offers a fuller take on drone and industrial metal, filling some of the spaces purposefully left open elsewhere. That leaves the penultimate “Pixelated Premonitions” as the ultimate blowout and “Suspect” (with a guest spot from Statiqbloom; a longtime fixture of NY industrialism) to noise-wash it all away, like city acid rain melting the pavement. New York always smells like piss in summer.
This band just keeps getting better, and yes, I mean that. Toronto’s Lammping begin an informal, casual-style series of singles with “Desert on the Keel,” the sub-four-minutes of which are dedicated to a surprisingly peaceful kind of heavy psychedelia. Multiple songwriters at work? Yes. Rhythm guitarist Matt Aldred comes to the fore here with vocals mellow to suit the languid style of the guitar, which with Jay Anderson‘s drums still giving a push beneath reminds of Quest for Fire‘s more active moments, but would still fit alongside the tidy hooks with which Lammping populate their records. Mikhail Galkin, principal songwriter for the band, donates a delightfully gonna-make-some-noise-here organ solo in the post-midsection jam before “Desert on the Keel” turns righteously back to the verse, Colm Hinds‘ bass McCartneying the bop for good measure, and in a package so welcome it can only be called a gift, Lammping demonstrate multiple new avenues of growth for their craft and project. I told you. They keep getting better. For more, dig into 2022’s Stars We Lost EP (review here). You won’t regret it.
Immediate three-part harmonies in the chorus of opener “Stealin’ Wine” set the tone for Limousine Beach‘s self-titled debut, as the new band fronted by guitarist/vocalist David Wheeler (OutsideInside, Carousel) and bringing together a five-piece with members of Fist Fight in the Parking Lot, Cruces and others melds ’70s-derived sounds with a modern production sheen, so that the Thin Lizzy-style twin leads of “Airboat” hit with suitable brightness and the arena-ready vibe in “Willodene” sets up the proto-metal of “Black Market Buss Pass” and the should-be-a-single-if-it-wasn’t “Hear You Calling.” Swagger is a staple of Wheeler‘s work, and though the longest song on Limousine Beach is still under four minutes, there’s plenty of room in tracks like “What if I’m Lying,” the AC/DC-esque “Evan Got a Job” and the sprint “Movin’ On” (premiered here) for such things, and the self-awareness in “We’re All Gonna Get Signed” adds to the charm. Closing out the 13 songs and 31 minutes, “Night is Falling” is dizzying, and leads to “Doo Doo,” the tight-twisting “Tiny Hunter” and the feedback and quick finish of “Outro,” which is nonetheless longer than the song before it. Go figure. Go rock. One of 2022’s best debut albums. Good luck keeping up.
Perfect Light is the closest Patrick Walker (also Warning) has yet come to a solo album with 40 Watt Sun, and any way one approaches it, is a marked departure from 2016’s Wider Than the Sky (review here, sharing a continued penchant for extended tracks but transposing the emotional weight that typifies Walker‘s songwriting and vocals onto pieces led by acoustic guitar and piano. Emma Ruth Rundle sits in on opener “Reveal,” which is one of the few drumless inclusions on the 67-minute outing, but primarily the record is a showcase for Walker‘s voice and fluid, ultra-subdued and mostly-unplugged guitar notes, which float across “Behind My Eyes” and the dare-some-distortion “Raise Me Up” later on, shades of the doom that was residing in the resolution that is, the latter unflinching in its longing purpose. Not a minor undertaking either on paper or in the listening experience, it is the boldest declaration of intent and progression in Walker’s storied career to-date, leaving heavy genre tropes behind in favor of something that seems even more individual.
Snagged by Heavy Psych Sounds in the early going of 2022, French rockers Decasia debut on the label with An Endless Feast for Hyenas, a 10-track follow-up to 2017’s The Lord is Gone EP (review here), making the most of the occasion of their first full-length to portray inventive vocal arrangements coinciding with classic-sounding fuzz in “Hrosshvelli’s Ode” and the spacier “Cloud Sultan” — think vocalized Earthless — the easy-rolling viber “Skeleton Void” and “Laniakea Falls.” “Ilion” holds up some scorch at the beginning, “Hyenas at the Gates” goes ambient at the end, and interludes “Altostratus” and “Soft Was the Night” assure a moment to breathe without loss of momentum, holding up proof of a thoughtful construction even as Decasia demonstrate a growth underway and a sonic persona long in development that holds no shortage of potential for continued progress. By no means is An Endless Feast for Hyenas the highest-profile release from this label this year, but think of it as an investment in things to come as well as delivery for right now.
The abiding shove of “Circle” and the more swinging “Abracadabra” begin Giant Mammoth‘s second full-length, Holy Sounds, with a style that wonders what if Lowrider and Valley of the Sun got together in a spirit of mutual celebration and densely-packed fuzz. Longer pieces “The Colour is Blue” and “Burning Man” and the lightly-proggier finale “Teisko” space out more, and the two-minute “Dust” is abidingly mellow, but wherever the Tampere, Finland, three-piece go, they remain in part defined by the heft of “Abracadabra” and the opener before it, with “Unholy” serving as an anchor for side A after “Burning Man” and “Wasteland” bringing a careening return to earth between “The Colour is Blue” and the close-out in “Teisko.” Like the prior-noted influences, Giant Mammoth are a stronger act for the dynamics of their material and the manner in which the songs interact with each other as the eight-track/38-minute LP plays out across its two sides, the second able to be more expansive for the groundwork laid in the first. They’re young-ish and they sound it (that’s not a slag), and the transition from duo to three-piece made between their first record and this one suits them and bodes well in its fuller tonality.
New Jersey trio Pyre Fyre may or may not be paying homage to their hometown of Bayonne with “Rinky Dink City,” but their punk-born fuzzy sludge rock reminds of none so much as New Orleans’ Suplecs circa 2000’s Wrestlin’ With My Ladyfriend, both the title-tracks dug into raw lower- and high-end buzztone shenanigans, big on groove and completely void of pretense. Able to have fun and still offer some substance behind the chicanery. I don’t know if you’d call it party rock — does anyone party on the East Coast or are we too sad because the weather sucks? probably, I’m just not invited — but if you were having a hangout and Pyre Fyre showed up with “Slow Cookin’,” for sure you’d let them have the two and a half minutes it takes them (less actually) to get their point across. In terms of style and songwriting, production and performance, this is a band that ask next to nothing of the listener in terms of investment are able to effect a mood in the positive without being either cloyingly poppish or leaving a saccharine aftertaste. I guess this is how the Garden State gets high. Fucking a.
Kamru, Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe
Issued on April 20, the cumbersomely-titled Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe is the debut outing from Denver-based two-piece Kamru, comprised of Jason Kleim and Ashwin Prasad. With six songs each hovering on either side of seven minutes long, the duo tap into a classic stoner-doom feel, and one could point to this or that riff and say The Sword or liken their tone worship and makeup to Telekinetic Yeti, but that’s missing the point. The point is in the atmosphere that is conjured by “Penumbral Litany” and the familiar proto-metallurgy of the subsequent “Hexxer,” prominent vocals echoing with a sense of command rare for a first offering of any kind, let alone a full-length. In the more willfully grueling “Cenotaph” there’s doomly reach, and as “Winter Rites” marches the album to its inevitable end — one imagines blood splattered on a fresh Rocky Mountain snowfall — the band’s take on established parameters of aesthetic sounds like it’s trying to do precisely what it wants. I’m saying watch out for it to get picked up for a vinyl release by some label or other if that hasn’t happened yet.
the centerpiece of the record and one of the many boogie-minded offerings herein. I don’t know the recording circumstances, but that feel adds to the energy of Satisfaction and the glam-gone-grunge vibe that results, “Queen” and “Shake” leading to “Strychnine,” with Besler delivering one of the album’s strongest hooks — no shortage of competition — and a riff that feels like purely distilled Nirvana. Considering the punch and swing of “Runaway,” or “Shudder,” or the shove of “Queen,” “Strychnine” is something of a stylistic turn, but by the time you get there you won’t even blink. There’s no question Head are in control and know what’s up. It’s a party without being dudebro party rock, and still weird enough to be interesting. Ask more of a two-minute-and-forty-eight-second song, I dare you.
