Posted in Whathaveyou on February 16th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
This’ll do nicely, thanks. Portland, Oregon’s Usnea have signed to Translation Loss to issue their first full-length in six years, Bathed in Light, and have newly unveiled the first single therefrom to mark the occasion of the announcement and the launching of preorders. I don’t know how long the record has been in the works, but you can see video of the opening title-track below that was filmed in March 2020 — it was the only thing that happened that month — so at least partially for the last three years. Fair enough.
They’re not strangers to touring, hit Europe in 2016 and 2017, etc., supporting their last outing, and it doesn’t seem unreasonable to think they’ll go abroad again, perhaps for summer or fall festival season, though honestly there aren’t really even seasons anymore. It’s just festivals all the time. So much the better. Whether they’ll tour the States as well has yet to be answered but the album is out May 11, so there’s time for those answers. In any case, after a gap twice as long as their prior longest, theirs is a welcome return.
The PR wire has art, details, links and narrative:
USNEA SIGN TO TRANSLATION LOSS RECORDS, ANNOUNCE LONG-AWAITED NEW FULL LENGTH, DROP SINGLE + PREORDER
Pacific Northwest doom outfit Usnea announce the highly anticipated new full length titled, “Bathed In Light”. Now signed to Translation Loss Records of Philadelphia, the band will deliver a massive new offering showing them at their most ambitious. Usnea have embraced a sound that reaches far beyond the realms of the bands previous offerings – with expansive, and dynamic ferocity. “Bathed In Light” features 6 new tracks incorporating death-rock and post-punk influences with monumental textures of synthesizers and undulating waves of doom.
About the album, vocalist and guitarist Justin Cory shares:
“It has been a brutal 6 years making this record with one of our members developing a serious chronic illness, me breaking my wrist in a motorcycle wreck, and the impacts of a global pandemic. Our previous material was already inspired by the continued decline of our global society but that has only accelerated since our last record, 2017’s ‘Portals Into Futility’.”
Usnea arose from the murky forests of Portland, OR in late 2011 from the cerebral minds of Justin Cory (Guitar & Vocals), Johnny Lovingood (Guitar), Zeke Rogers (Drums), and Joel Williams (Bass & Vocals). The quartet has proven to be a seismic level force of destructive creativity with a massive yet meditative sound, masterfully crafted songwriting, and a clear yet non-derivative influence from doom legends such as Disembowelment, My Dying Bride, Evoken, and YOB.
In February of 2013 they released their eponymous debut record on Roger’s own label Orca Wolf Records. Following a 7″ EP split with Germany’s Ruins, USNEA signed to Relapse Records and released ‘Random Cosmic Violence’ in November 2014. The record’s immense presence instantly elevated USNEA to the forefront of the blossoming American doom scene. Stereogum referred to ‘Random Cosmic Violence’ as having a “Floydian vastness that both balances and amplifies the overwhelming, crushing heaviness. Like the night sky itself, it’s full of terror and awe and ice and fire. It is a massive, monumental thing.” Usnea toured the U.S. and Europe in support of the record alongside veteran acts like Ufomammut and Inverloch and performances at notable festivals including Maryland Deathfest, Roadburn, Psycho Las Vegas, Northwest Terror Fest, Up In Smoke, and Blow Up Fest.
Today, along with the announcement of “Bathed In Light”, Usnea have unveiled a new single from the album titled, “From Soot and Pyre”. The massive and chest pounding track, laced with just the right about of groove, is streaming now. About the single, vocalist and guitarists Justin Cory shares:
“‘From Soot and Pyre’ aims its rage at the wreckage that human life has visited upon our Earth through capitalism, climate change, resource extraction, and war. It was especially poignant to us here in the PNW when the forests were burning all around us in 2020 and 2021 and the air was literally poisonous. On a lighter note, Johnny wrote some seriously infectious sludge riffs for this one and as the song evolved I got very excited about adding some swirling John Carpenter-meets-Goblin analog synth lines at the end. This song is one of our shortest but it seems to really devastate audiences live in spite of that brevity.”
“Buried In Light” will be released on two limited edition vinyl variants, CD, and across digital platforms. The album features brand new and extraordinary artwork by Justin Cory of Usnea.
Track Listing: 1. Bathed In Light 2. The Compleated Sage 3. To The Deathless 4. From Soot and Pyre 5. Premeditatio Malorum 6. Uncanny Valley
Album Details: Recorded & Engineered by Greg Wilkinson at Earhammer Studios, Oakland, CA in March 2022.
Mastered by Adam Gonsalves at Telegraph Mastering Portland, OR.
Album artwork by Justin Cory. Promo Photo by Amyrose Ahlstrom.
Usnea is: Justin Cory – Vocals, guitar, synthesizer, artwork Johnny Lovingood – Guitar Joel Williams – Vocals, Bass Zeke Rogers – Drums
Posted in Reviews on September 27th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Here we go again as we get closer to 100 records covered in this expanded Fall 2022 Quarterly Review. It’s been a pretty interesting ride so far, and as I’ve dug in I know for sure I’ve added a few names (and titles) to my year-end lists for albums, debuts, and so on. Today keeps the thread going with a good spread of styles and some very, very heavy stuff. If you haven’t found anything in the bunch yet — first I’d tell you to go back and check again, because, really? nothing in 60 records? — but after that, hey, maybe today’s your day.
Here’s hoping.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
Spirit Adrift, 20 Centuries Gone
The second short release in two years from trad metal forerunners Spirit Adrift, 20 Centuries Gone pairs two new originals in “Sorcerer’s Fate” and “Mass Formation Psychosis” — songs for our times written as fantasy narrative — with six covers, of Type O Negative‘s “Everything Dies,” Pantera‘s “Hollow,” Metallica‘s “Escape,” Thin Lizzy‘s “Waiting for an Alibi,” ZZ Top‘s “Nasty Dogs and Funky Kings” and Lynyrd Skynyrd‘s “Poison Whiskey.” The covers find them demonstrating a bit of malleability — founding guitarist/vocalist does well with Phil Lynott‘s and Peter Steele‘s inflections while still sounding like himself — and it’s always a novelty to hear a band purposefully showcase their influences like this, but “Sorcerer’s Fate” and “Mass Formation Psychosis” are the real draw. The former nods atop a Candlemassian chug and sweeping chorus before spending much of its second half instrumental, and “Mass Formation Psychosis” resolves in burly riffing, but only after a poised rollout of classic doom, slower, sleeker in its groove, with acoustic strum layered in amid the distortion and keyboard. Two quick reaffirmations of the band’s metallic flourishing and, indeed, a greater movement happening partially in their wake. And then the covers, which are admirably more than filler in terms of arrangement. Something of a holdover, maybe, but by no means lacking substance.
Just because it’s so bludgeoning doesn’t necessarily mean that’s all it is. The melodic stretch of “Forbidden World of Light” and delve into progressive black metal after the nakedly Crowbarian sludge of “A Path Beyond Grief,” the clean vocal-topped atmospheric heft of “What Must Be Done” and the choral feel of centerpiece “Carried,” even the way “Of Shadow and Sanguine” seems to purposefully thrash (also some more black metal there) amid its bouts of deathcore and sludge lumbering — all of these come together to make Northless‘ fourth long-player, A Path Beyond Grief, an experience that’s still perhaps defined by its intensity and concrete tonality, its aggression, but that is not necessarily beholden to those. Even the quiet intro “Nihil Sanctum Vitae” — a seeming complement to the nine-minute bring-it-all-together closer “Nothing That Lives Will Last” — seems intended to tell the listener there’s more happening here than it might at first seem. As someone who still misses Swarm of the Lotus, some of the culmination in that finale is enough to move the blood in my wretched body, but while born in part of hardcore, Northless are deep into their own style throughout these seven songs, and the resultant smashy smashy is able to adjust its own elemental balance while remaining ferociously executed. Except, you know, when it’s not. Because it’s not just one thing.
Comprised of five songs running a tidy 20 minutes, each brought together through ambience as well as the fact that their titles are all three letters long — “Aer,” “Hyd,” “Orb,” “Wiz,” “Rue” — AER is the debut EP from German instrumentalists Lightrain, who would seek entry into the contemplative and evocative sphere of acts like Toundra or We Lost the Sea as they offer headed-out post-rock float and heavy psychedelic vibe. “Hyd” is a focal point, both for its eight-minute runtime (nothing else is half that long) and the general spaciousness, plus a bit of riffy shove in the middle, with which it fills that, but the ultra-mellow “Aer” and drumless wash of “Wiz” feed into an overarching flow that speaks to greater intentions on the part of the band vis a vis a first album. “Rue” is progressive without being overthought, and “Orb” feels born of a jam without necessarily being that jam, finding sure footing on ground that for many would be uncertain. If this is the beginning point of a longer-term evolution on the part of the band, so much the better, but even taken as a standalone, without consideration for the potential of what it might lead to, the LP-style fluidity that takes hold across AER puts the lie to its 20 minutes being somehow minor.
Cleanly produced and leaning toward sleaze at times in a way that feels purposefully drawn from ’80s glam metal, the second offering from Poland’s 1965 — they might as well have called themselves 1542 for as much as they have to do sound-wise with what was going on that year — is the 12-song/52-minute Panther, which wants your nuclear love on “Nuclear Love,” wants to rock on “Let’s Rock,” and would be more than happy to do whatever it wants on “Anything We Want.” Okay, so maybe guitarist, vocalist and principal songwriter Michał Rogalski isn’t going to take home gold at the Subtlety Olympics, but the Warsaw-based outfit — him plus Marco Caponi on bass/backing vocals and Tomasz Rudnicki on drums/backing vocals, as well as an array of lead guitarists guesting — know the rock they want to make, and they make it. Songs are tight and well performed, heavy enough in tone to have a presence but fleet-footed in their turns from verse to chorus and the many trad-metal-derived leads. Given the lyrics of the title-track, I’m not sure positioning oneself as an actual predatory creature as a metaphor for seduction has been fully thought through, but you don’t see me out here writing lyrics in Polish either, so take it with that grain of salt if you feel the need or it helps. For my money I’ll take the still-over-the-top “So Many Times” and the sharp start-stops of “All My Heroes Are Dead,” but there’s certainly no lack of others to choose from.
Blacklab — also stylized BlackLab — are the Osaka, Japan-based duo of guitarist/vocalist Yuko Morino and drummer Chia Shiraishi, but if you’d enter into their second full-length, In a Bizarre Dream, expecting some rawness or lacking heft on account of their sans-bass configuration, you’re more likely to be bowled over by the sludgy tonality on display. “Cold Rain” — opener and longest track (immediate points) at 6:13 — and “Abyss Woods” are largely screamers, righteously harsh with riffs no less biting, and “Dark Clouds” does the job in half the time with a punkier onslaught leading to “Evil 1,” but “Evil 2” mellows out a bit, adjusts the balance toward clean singing and brooding in a way that the oh-hi-there guest vocal contribution from Laetitia Sadier of Stereolab (after whom Blacklab are partially named) on “Crows, Sparrows and Cats” shifts into a grungier modus. “Lost” and “In a Bizarre Dream,” the latter more of an interlude, keep the momentum going on the rock side, but somehow you just know they’re going to turn it around again, and they absolutely do, easing their way in with the largesse of “Monochrome Rainbow” before “Collapse” caps with a full-on onslaught that brings into full emphasis how much reach they have as a two-piece and just how successfully they make it all heavy.
I guess the only problem that might arise from recording your first two-songer with Steve Albini is that you’ve set an awfully high standard for, well, every subsequent offering your band ever makes in terms of production. There are traces of Karma to Burn-style chug on “Ectotherm,” the A-side accompanied by “Writhing Mass” on the two-songer that shares the same name, but Chicago imstrumental trio Sun King Ba are digging into more progressively-minded, less-stripped-down fare on both of these initial tracks. Still, impact and the vitality of the end result are loosely reminiscent, but the life on that guitar, bass and drums speaks volumes, and not just in favor of the recording itself. “Writhing Mass” crashes into tempo changes and resolves itself in being both big and loud, and the space in the cymbals alone as it comes to its noisy finish hints at future incursions to be made. Lest we forget that Chicago birthed Pelican and Bongripper, among others, for the benefit of instrumental heavy worldwide. Sun King Ba have a ways to go before they’re added to that list, but there is intention being signaled here for those with ears to hear it.
Despite the somewhat grim imagery on the cover art for Kenodromia‘s self-titled debut EP — a three-cut outing that marks a return to the band of vocalist Hilde Chruicshank after some stretch of absence during which they were known as Hideout — the Oslo, Norway, four-piece play heavy rock through and through on “Slandered,” “Corrupted” and “Bound,” with the bluesy fuzzer riffs and subtle psych flourishes of Eigil Nicolaisen‘s guitar backing Chruicshank‘s lyrics as bassist Michael Sindhu and drummer Trond Buvik underscore the “break free” moment in “Corrupted,” which feels well within its rights in terms of sociopolitical commentary ahead of the airier start of “Bound” after the relatively straightforward beginning that was “Slandered.” With the songs arranged shortest to longest, “Bound” is also the darkest in terms of atmosphere and features a more open verse, but the nod that defines the second half is huge, welcome and consuming even as it veers into a swaggering kind of guitar solo before coming back to finish. These players have been together one way or another for over 10 years, and knowing that, Kenodromia‘s overarching cohesion makes sense. Hopefully it’s not long before they turn attentions toward a first LP. They’re clearly ready.
Mezzoa are the San Diego three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Ignacio “El Falcone” Maldonado, bassist Q “Dust Devil” Pena (who according to their bio was created in the ‘Cholo Goth Universe,’ so yes, charm is a factor), and drummer Roy “Bam Bam” Belarmino, and the 13-track/45-minute Dunes of Mars is their second album behind 2017’s Astral Travel. They sound like a band who’ve been around for a bit, and indeed they have, playing in other bands and so on, but they’ve got their approach on lockdown and I don’t mean for the plague. The material here, whether it’s the Helmet-plus-melody riffing of “Tattoos and Halos” or the more languid roll of the seven-minute “Dunes of Mars” earlier on, is crisp and mature without sounding flat or staid creatively, and though they’re likened most to desert rock and one can hear that in the penultimate “Seized Up” a bit, there’s more density in the guitar and bass, and the immediacy of “Hyde” speaks of more urgent influences at work. That said, the nodding chill-and-chug of “Moya” is heavy whatever landscape you want to say birthed it, and with the movement into and out of psychedelic vibes, the land is something you’re just as likely to leave behind anyway. Hit me as a surprise. Don’t be shocked if you end up going back to check out the first record after.
Released through emergent Texas-based imprint Gravitoyd Heavy Music, Stone Nomads‘ Fields of Doom comprises six songs, five originals, and is accordingly somewhere between a debut full-length and an EP at half an hour long. The cover is a take on Saint Vitus‘ “Dragon Time,” and it rests well here as the closer behind the prior-released single “Soul Stealer,” as bassist Jude Sisk and guitarist Jon Cosky trade lead vocal duties while Dwayne Crosby furthers the underlying metallic impression on drums, pushing some double-kick gallop under the solo of “Fiery Sabbath” early on after the leadoff title-track lumbers and chugs and bell-tolls to its ending, heavy enough for heavy heads, aggro enough to suit your sneer, with maybe a bit of Type O Negative influence in the vocal. Huffing oldschool gasoline, Fields of Doom might prove too burled-out for some listeners, but the interlude “Winds of Barren Lands” and the vocal swaps mean that you’re never quite sure where they’re going to hit you next, even if you know the hit is coming, and even as “Soul Stealer” goes grandiose before giving way to the already-noted Vitus cover. And if you’re wondering, they nail the noise of the solo in that song, leaving no doubt that they know what they’re doing, with their own material or otherwise.
Drawing from various corners of punk, noise rock and heavy rock’s accessibility, Munich trio Blind Mess offer their third full-length in After the Storm, which is aptly-enough titled, considering. “Fight Fire with Fire” isn’t a cover, but the closing “What’s the Matter Man?” is, of Rollins Band, no less, and they arrive there after careening though a swath of tunes like “Twilight Zone,” “At the Gates” and “Save a Bullet,” which are as likely to be hardcore-born shove or desert-riffed melody, and in the last of those listed there, a little bit of both. To make matters more complicated, “Killing My Idols” leans into classic metal in its underlying riff as the vocals bark and its swing is heavy ’70s through and through. This aesthetic amalgam holds together in the toughguy march of “Sirens” as much as the garage-QOTSA rush of “Left to Do” and the dares-to-thrash finish of “Fight Fire with Fire” since the songs themselves are well composed and at 38 minutes they’re in no danger of overstaying their welcome. And when they get there, “What’s the Matter Man?” makes a friendly-ish-but-still-confrontational complemement to “Left to Do” back at the outset, as though to remind us that wherever they’ve gone over the course of the album between, it’s all been about rock and roll the whole time. So be it.
This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you I’m quaking in my flip-flops about doing 100 reviews in the span of two weeks, how worried I am I’ll run out of ways to say something is weird, or psychedelic, or heavy, or whatever. You know what? This time, even with a doublewide Quarterly Review — which means 100 records between now and next Friday — I feel like we got this. It’ll get done. And if it doesn’t? I’ll take an extra day. Who even pretends to give a crap?
I think that’s probably the right idea, so let’s get this show on the road, as my dear wife is fond of saying.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
Alunah, Strange Machine
Following on from 2019’s Violet Hour (review here), Birmingham’s Alunah offer the nine songs and 42 minutes of Strange Machine on Heavy Psych Sounds. It’s a wonder to think this is the band who a decade ago released White Hoarhound (review here), but of course it’s mostly not. Alunah circa 2022 bring a powerhouse take on classic heavy rock and roll, with Siân Greenaway‘s voice layered out across proto-metallic riffs and occasional nods such as “Fade Into Fantasy” or “Psychedelic Expressway” pulling away from the more straight-ahead punch. One can’t help but be reminded of Black Sabbath with Ronnie James Dio — a different, more progressive and expansive take on the same style they started with — which I guess would make Strange Machine their Mob Rules. They may or may not be the band you expected, but they’re quite a band if you’re willing to give the songs a chance.
Skipping neither the death nor the doom ends of death-doom, Los Angeles-based QAALM make a gruesome and melancholic debut with Resilience & Despair, with a vicious, barking growl up front that reminds of none so much as George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher, but that’s met intermittently with airy stretches of emotionally weighted float led by its two guitars. Across the four-song/69-minute outing, no song is shorter than opener “Reflections Doubt” (14:40), and while that song, “Existence Asunder” (19:35), “Cosmic Descent” (18:23) and “Lurking Death” (17:16) have their more intense moments, the balance of miseries defines the record by its spaciousness and the weight of the chug that offsets. The cello in “Lurking Death” adds fullness to create a Katatonia-style backdrop, but QAALM are altogether more extreme, and whatever lessons they’ve learned from the masters of the form, they’re being put to excruciating use. And the band knows it. Go four minutes into any one of these songs and tell me they’re not having a great time. I dare you.
The Traveler is Sterling DeWeese‘s second solo full-length under the banner of Ambassador Hazy behind 2020’s Glacial Erratics (review here) and it invariably brings a more cohesive vision of the bedroom-psychedelic experimentalist songcraft that defined its predecessor. “All We Wanted,” for example, is song enough that it could work in any number of genre contexts, and where “Take the Sour With the Sweet” is unabashed in its alt-universe garage rock ambitions, it remains righteously weird enough to be DeWeese‘s own. Fuller band arrangements on pieces like that or the later “Don’t Smash it to Pieces” reinforce the notion of a solidifying approach, but “Simple Thing” nonetheless manages to come across like Dead Meadow borrowed a drum machine from Godflesh circa 1987. There’s sweetness underlying “Afterglow,” however, and “Percolator,” which may or may not actually have one sampled, is way, way out there, and in no small way The Traveler is about that mix of humanity and creative reaching.
Strange things afoot in Stockholm. Blending classic doom and heavy rock with a clean, clear production, shades of early heavy metal and the odd bit of ’70s folk in the verse of “While the Devil is Asleep,” the five-piece Spiral Skies follow 2018’s Blues for a Dying Planet with Death is But a Door, a collection that swings and grooves and is epic and intimate across its nine songs/43 minutes, a cut like “Somewhere in the Dark” seeming to grow bigger as it moves toward its finish. Five of the nine inclusions make some reference to sleep or the night or darkness — including “Nattmaran” — but one can hardly begrudge Spiral Skies working on a theme when this is the level of the work they’re doing. “The Endless Sea” begins the process of excavating the band’s stylistic niche, and by “Time” and “Mirage” it’s long since uncovered, and the band’s demonstration of nuance, melody and songwriting finds its resolution on closer “Mirror of Illusion,” which touches on psychedelia as if to forewarn the listener of more to come. Familiar, but not quite like anything else.
Almost tragically atmospheric given the moods involved, Wyoming-based industrial metallurgists Lament Cityscape commence the machine-doom of A Darker Discharge following a trilogy of 2020 EPs compiled last year onto CD as Pneumatic Wet. That release was an hour long, this one is 24 minutes, which adds to the intensity somehow of the expression at the behest of David Small (Glacial Tomb, ex-Mountaineer, etc.) and Mike McClatchey (also ex-Mountaineer), the ambience of six-minute centerpiece “Innocence of Shared Experiences” making its way into a willfully grandiose wash after “All These Wires” and “Another Arc” traded off in caustic ’90s-style punishment. “The Under Dark” is a cacophony early and still intense after the fog clears, and it, “Where the Walls Used to Be” and the coursing-till-it-slows-down, gonna-get-noisy “Part of the Mother” form a trilogy of sorts for side B, each feeding into the overarching impression of emotional untetheredness that underscores all that fury.
You got friends? Me neither. But if we did, and we told them about the wholesome exploratory jams of Belfast trio Electric Octopus, I bet their hypothetical minds would be blown. St. Patrick’s Cough is the latest studio collection from the instrumentalist improv-specialists, and it comes and goes through glimpses of various jams in progress, piecing together across 13 songs and 73 minutes — that’s short for Electric Octopus — that find the chemistry vital as they seamlessly bring together psychedelia, funk, heavy rock, minimalist drone on “Restaurant Banking” and blown-out steel-drum-style island vibes on “A2enmod.” There’s enough ground covered throughout for a good bit of frolicking — and if you’ve never frolicked through an Electric Octopus release, here’s a good place to start — but in smaller experiments like the acoustic slog “You Have to Be Stupid to See That” or the rumbling “Universal Knife” or the shimmering-fuzz-is-this-tuning-up “Town,” it’s only encouraging to see the band continue to try new ideas and push themselves even farther out than they were. For an act who already dwells in the ‘way gone,’ it says something that they’re refusing to rest on their freaked-out laurels.
Behold, the sludge of death. Maybe it’s not fair to call When the World Dies one of 2022’s best debut albums since Come to Grief is intended as a continuation by guitarist/backing vocalist Terry Savastano (also WarHorse) and drummer Chuck Conlon of the devastation once wrought by Grief, but as they unleash the chestripping “Life’s Curse” and the slow-grind filthy onslaught of “Scum Like You,” who gives a shit? When the World Dies, produced of course by Converge‘s Kurt Ballou at GodCity, spreads aural violence across its 37 minutes with a particular glee, resting only for a breath before meting out the next lurching beating. Jonathan Hébert‘s vocal cords deserve a medal for the brutality they suffer in his screams in the four-minute title-track alone, never mind the grime-encrusted pummel of closer “Death Can’t Come Fast Enough.” Will to abrasion. Will to disturb. Heavy in spirit but so raw in its force that if you even manage to make it that deep you’ve probably already drowned. A biblical-style gnashing of teeth. Fucking madness.
In the works one way or the other since 2020, the sophomore full-length from Pittsburgh heavy rockers ZOM brings straight-ahead classicism with a modernized production vibe, some influence derived from the earlier days of Clutch or The Sword and of course Black Sabbath — looking at you, “Running Man” — but there’s a clarity of purpose behind the material that is ZOM‘s own. They are playing rock for rockers, and are geared more toward revelry than conversion, but there’s no arguing with the solidity of their craft and the meeting of their ambitions. Their last record took them to Iceland, and this one has led them to the UK. Don’t be surprised when ZOM announce an Australian tour one of these days, just because they can, but wherever they go, know what they have the songs on their side to get them there. In terms of style, there’s very little revolutionary about Fear and Failure, but ZOM aren’t trying to revamp what you know of as heavy rock and roll so much as looking to mark their place within it. Listening to the burly chug of “Another Day to Run,” and the conversation the band seems to be having with the more semi-metal moments of Shadow Witch and others, their efforts sound not at all misspent.
Making their debut through Black Doomba Records, Columbia, South Carolina’s MNRVA recorded the eight-song Hollow in Spring 2019, and one assumes that the three-year delay in releasing is owed at least in to aligning with the label, plus pandemic, plus life happens, and so on. In any case, from “Not the One” onward, their fuzz-coated doom rock reminds of a grittier take on Cathedral, with guitarist Byron Hawk and bassist Kevin Jennings sharing vocal duties effectively while Gina Ercolini drives the march behind them. There’s some shifting in tempo between “Hollow” and a more brash piece like “With Fire” or the somehow-even-noisier-seeming penultimate cut “No Solution,” but the grit there is a feature throughout the album just the same. Their 2019 EP, Black Sky (review here), set them up for this, but only really in hindsight, and one wonders what they may have been up to in the time since putting this collection to tape if this is where they were three years ago. Some of this is straight-up half-speed noise rock riffing and that’s just fine.
The third full-length, Accelerationist, from Easthampton, Massachusetts’ Problem With Dragons is odd and nuanced enough by the time they get to the vocal effects on “Have Mercy, Show Mercy” — unless that’s a tracheostomy thing; robot voice; that’s not the first instance of it — to earn being called progressive, and though their foundation is in more straightforward heavy rock impulses, sludge and fuzz, they’ve been at it for 15 years and have well developed their own approach. Thus “Live by the Sword” opens to set up lumbering pieces like “Astro Magnum” and the finale title-track while “In the Name of His Shadow” tips more toward metal and the seven-minute “Don’t Fail Me” meets its early burl (gets the wurlm?) with airier soloing later on, maximizing the space in the album’s longest track. “A Demon Possessed” and “Dark Times (for Dark Times)” border on doom, but in being part of Problem With Dragons‘ overall pastiche, and in the band’s almost Cynic-al style of melodic singing, they are united with the rest of what surrounds. Some bands, you can just tell when individualism is part of their mission.
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 11th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Come to Grief are like the beast you absolutely see coming that still consumes you. New Hampshire’s state motto is “live free or die,” the band’s might be “go ahead and die anyway.” The inheritors of one of sludge’s filthiest legacies — that of Grief — have set May 20 as the release date through Translation Loss Records of their debut album, When the World Dies, and true to their New England roots, they’ve got Converge‘s Jacob Bannon on the lead single. That band’s Kurt Ballou also recorded, which, yes, makes sense. Even mentioning that seems superfluous. Of course he did.
Devastating live and crushing across their various short releases to this point, I see no reason why Come to Grief‘s awaited first full-length shouldn’t absolutely flay any and all who take it on upon its arrival. I’ll gladly suffer a reverse graft for the cause when the time comes.
From the PR wire:
COME TO GRIEF ANNOUNCE NEW FULL LENGTH, DROP SINGLE FEATURING JACOB BANNON
New England nihilistic, extreme sludge/doom band COME TO GRIEF announce their highly-anticipated and long-awaited debut full-length album, “When The World Dies” – to be released on May 20, 2022 via Translation Loss Records.
COME TO GRIEF have risen from the ashes of a hellish existence to bring seven tracks of sinister, hypnotic filth – dank with suffocating depravity. Powerful and catchy grooves lace each track with grimy black n’ roll undertones while vocalists Terry Savastano and Jonathan Hebert lay waste to tortured, spite-filled and personal lyrics – spitting true life stories and observations on the bleak, lack of humanity that plagues the earth. Recorded by Kurt Ballou at GodCity Recording Studio and featuring Jacob Bannon (CONVERGE), who contributes vocals that storm in like a whirlwind of chaotic ferver. A lurking rhythm section soldered together with smoldering riffs demands you to bang your head and proves “When The World Dies” is no pentatonic picnic – this is sonic annihilation.
Along with the announcement of “When The World Dies” the band have released the first single from the album titled, “Life’s Curse”. The ferocious track features blistering vocals from CONVERGE frontman, Jacob Bannon.
About the album announcement and track release, COME TO GRIEF share the following statement:
When the World Dies has finally reared its ugly head after nearly 8 years of constant shows and EP’s. The long-awaited long-player shall bludgeon your existence. Not merely ‘Sludge’ or ‘Doom’, ‘When The World Dies’ melds many sounds and feelings that parallel the horrid human situation. “Life’s Curse” is a raging culmination of 50 years of anguish, depression and dejection. Do you sometimes feel lonely? Awkward? Like you don’t belong? This is for you.
About working alongside Jacob Bannon, Terry Savastano (guitar, vocals) comments:
“Having Jacob sing vocals was a really big deal. I’m super grateful for it. We go back a long way, actually. He, myself, (Chuck – COME TO GRIEF drummer) and some of the CONVERGE guys come from the same area north of Boston called the Merrimack Valley. He had my first band’s (AFTERBIRTH) demo very early on – we’re talking 1988! We were recording with Kurt Ballou so I thought it would be awesome and kinda appropriate if he could contribute vocals. He’s such an emotional singer I thought it would go perfect with Jonathan’s (Herbert) roar, and I was right! ‘Life’s Curse’ is a pretty emotional song already; he just added a whole lot more.”
“When The World Dies” will be released on May 20, 2022 on two LP variants, compact disc, and on all digital platforms worldwide. Limited edition merch is also available via Translation Loss Records. Pre-order and digital pre-save is available now.
TRACK LISTING: 1. Our End Begins 2. Life’s Curse 3. Scum Like You 4. Devastation of Souls 5. When the World Dies 6. Bludgeon The Soul / Returning to the Void 7. Death Can’t Come Soon Enough
ALBUM DETAILS: Recorded by Kurt Ballou in July of 2021 at GodCity Recording Studio in Salem, MA. Mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege.
Guest vocals by Jacob Bannon (CONVERGE) on “Life’s Curse” and “Bludgeon The Soul”. Bass on the entirety of When The World Dies by Randy Larsen.
Album artwork by Paulo Girardi. Promo photos by COME TO GRIEF.
COME TO GRIEF is: Jonathan Hebert – Lead Vocals and Rhythm Guitar Terrenza Savastano – Lead Guitar & Backing Vocals Chuck Conlon – Drums Jon Morse – Bass
Posted in Questionnaire on January 26th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Yanni Papadopoulos of Stinking Lizaveta & Wail
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I am a Rock guitarist. It’s taken me a lifetime to come to terms with that identity. I had no intention of ending up with this dubious title, but it is accurate. Although I dabble in other idioms such as jazz, funk, and classical, rock is what I am most comfortable in, and what I can pass on to others. I am also a rock musician, with a recording and touring career. Stinking Lizaveta is the name of my band.
Describe your first musical memory.
When I was a child I was in love with my mother’s old 45s. She had some Elvis singles that just sounded otherworldly. The music inspired me to write a tune that went “Damn it, wham it, I just can’t stand it. Damn it, wham it and sweet roses”. I think I was five.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
The most epic musical experience I have had with Stinking Lizaveta was playing at Check Point Charlie’s in New Orleans on Halloween. We played our set once, then the bar owner told us to do it again. Maybe we even did it a third time, then saw the sun rise. This gig continued annually for many years until Katrina broke the chain.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
When I first started a band, I naively thought that if we played shows and put out records, our reputation would grow steadily over the years. I thought of the scene as a meritocracy, where good musicianship and creativity would inevitably be rewarded.
Sometimes I think I was terribly wrong, but sometimes I think I might have been right.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
The artist has the perilous task of filling the void they perceive in their community. This gives them the odious task of being the bad conscious of their scene.
How do you define success?
I like the idea of success being the opportunity to practice your art on your own terms.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Sexism.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
A rock opera of Blade Runner.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Art puts Humanity on display. It is that thing that makes us more than animals, more than dirt.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I really enjoy watching The Avatar animated series over and over again with my two daughters.
Philly four-piece Wail released their self-titled debut (review here) on Translation Loss in July. Hot summer nights ensued, peppered with their instrumentalist jazz-funk-whathaveyou sound that was jammy and exploratory but spoke just the same of a master plan at work, even if said plan was to get in the studio and figure it all out later. That may well be what they did. Their first video, for “Astronomy” (premiered here) — and yes, I reused the picture; I think they only have one so far — seemed to show that in action, as it was the band making their way through the song, playing it live and recording the finished version as it happened. An admirable execution of ethic toward capturing a live sound by — wait for it — capturing a live sound.
The clip premiering below for “Symmetry” takes a different approach.
I’ll spare you the seasonal spiel (or maybe I won’t, but it’s a different spiel). I’m not a Halloween guy. Truth told, I’ve never really been one for fun. I’m the kind of person, you might say, who’ll readily spend 12-plus years of his life sitting in front of a keyboard writing about bands rather than engage in what most would consider regular human interaction. Dressing up? Spiders and skulls? Are they on a black t-shirt with a band logo? No? Then keep ’em. The holiday I care about most is my wife’s birthday, followed by my anniversary. Nonetheless, it’s October now and as regards Halloween, ’tis the season. Even for us miserable-shit, lazy-eyed blogger types.
Not big on horror movies either, but you know what? Evil Dead — the whole trilogy — frickin’ rules. And somebody put work into this clip setting the rhythm of the cuts to the song and taking footage from Sam Raimi’s 1981 original Evil Dead movie and constructing a genuine musicvideo from it. I especially like the winding record player timed to the little guitar noodles throughout, and the way the Deadite trying to get up from the basement is set to the most intense part of the track. It actually works really well. And man, Bruce Campbell looks like a baby. He was 23 when that movie was made; I just looked it up. Wow.
So anyhow, if you’re into Halloween or you’re not, I hereby give you and me both permission to enjoy this video for what it is. Maybe when it’s over you stream the whole album.
Have fun. It’ll be okay:
Wail, “Symmetry” video premiere
The new video “Symmetry” by Philadelphia band WAIL.
Featuring Calvin Weston on drums, Pete Wilder and Yanni Papadopoulos on guitar, Alexi Papadopoulos on bass.
Posted in Reviews on October 1st, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Welcome to Friday. I’m glad to have come this far in the Quarterly Review, and even knowing that there are two days left to go — next Monday and Tuesday, bringing us to a total of 70 for the entire thing — I feel some measure of accomplishment at doing this full week, 10 reviews a day, for the total of 50 we’ll hit after this batch. It has mostly been smooth sailing as regards the writing. It’s the rest of existence that seems intent to derail.
But these are stories for another time. For now, there’s 10 more records to dive into, so you’ll pardon me if I do precisely that.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Carcass, Torn Arteries
The original progenitors of goregrind return in gleeful fashion with their first full-length since 2013’s Surgical Steel. They’ve toured steadily over the intervening years, and Torn Arteries would seem to arrive timed to a return to the road, though it also follows the 2020 EP, Despicable, so make of that what you will. One way or the other, the 10-track/50-minute offering is at very least everything one could reasonably ask a Carcass record to be in 2021. That’s the least you can say of it. Point of fact, it’s probably much more. Driven by Bill Steer‘s riffs and solos — which would be worth the price of admission alone — as well as the inimitable rasp of bassist Jeff Walker, Carcass sound likewise vital and brutal, delighting in the force of “Kelly’s Meat Emporium” and the unmitigated thrash of “The Scythe’s Remorseless Swing,” while scalpel-slicing their way through “Eleanor Rigor Mortis” and the 10-minute “Flesh Ripping Sonic Torment Limited,” which, yes, starts out with acoustic guitar. Because of course it does. After serving as pioneers of extreme metal, Carcass need to prove nothing, but they do anyway. And bonus! Per Wiberg shows up for a guest spot.
Some concerned citizen needs to file assault charges against Copenhagen crushers LLNN for the sheer violence wrought on their third full-length, Unmaker. Comprised of 10 songs all with single-word titles, the Pelagic Records release uses synth and tonal ultra-heft of guitar and bass to retell Blade Runner but starring Godzilla across 39 minutes. Okay so maybe that’s not what the lyrics are about, but you’d never know it from the harsh screams that pervade most of the outing — guitarist Christian Bonnesen has a rare ability to make extreme vocals sound emotional; his performance here puts the record on another level — which renders words largely indecipherable. Still, it is their combination of whiplash-headbang-inducing, bludgeoning-like-machines-hitting-each-other, air-moving weight and keyboard-driven explorations evocative enough that LLNN are releasing them on their own as a companion-piece that makes Unmaker the complete, enveloping work it is.
I’m not sure it’s fair to call something that was apparently recorded five years ago forward thinking, but Smiling‘s melding of post-punk urgency, violin flourish, the odd bit of riot-style aggression, psychedelia and poppy melodic quirk in varying degrees and at various points throughout the debut album, Devour, is that anyway. Fronted by guitarist/songwriter Annie Shaw, Smiling makes a cut like even the two-minute “Other Lives” feel dynamic in its build toward a swelling-rumble finish, immediately shifting into the dreamier psych-buzz of “Forgetful Sam” and the melancholy-in-the-sunshine “Do What You Want.” Yeah, it goes like that. It also goes like the rager title-track though, so watch out. The earlier “Lighthouse” swings like Dandy Warhols, but the closing trilogy of “FPS,” “Take Your Time” and “Duvall Gardens” — also the three longest songs included — showcase a more experimentalist side, adding context and depth to the proceedings. So yeah, forward thinking. Time is all made up anyway.
The track itself, “Flood,” runs all of three minutes and 18 seconds, and I do mean it runs. The Taunton, UK, four-piece of guitarist/vocalists Charlie Dowzell and Tim Kazer, bassist/harsh-vocalist Kynan Scott and drummer Tom Coles offer it as a standalone piece and the track earns that level of respect with its controlled careening, the shouted verses giving way to a memorable clean-sung chorus with zero sense of trickery or pretense in its intention. That is to say, “Flood” wants to get stuck in your head and it will probably do precisely that. Also included in the two-songer digital outing — that’s Flood, the release, as opposed to “Flood,” the song — is “Flood (Young Bros Remix),” which extends the piece to 4:43 and reimagines it as more sinister, semi-industrial fare, but even in doing so and doing it well, it can’t quite get away from the rhythm of that hook. Some things are just inescapable.
Austin’s Holy Death Trio have the distinction of being the first band signed as part of the collaboration between Ripple Music and Rob “Blasko” Nicholson (bassist for Ozzy Osbourne, etc.), and Introducing…, the three-piece’s debut, is enough of a party to answer any questions why. Gritty, Motörheadular riffs permeate from post-intro leadoff “White Betty” — also some Ram Jam there, I guess — underscored by Sabbathian semi-doomers like “Black Wave” and the near-grim psychedelia of closer “Witch Doctor” while totaling an ultra-manageable 33 minutes primed toward audience engagement in a “wow I bet this is a lot of fun live” kind of way. It would not seem to be a coincidence that the centerpiece of the tracklist is called “Get Down,” as the bulk of what surrounds seems to be a call to do precisely that, and if the bluesy shuffle of that track doesn’t get the job done, something else is almost bound to.
Having put Samsara Blues Experiment to rest following the release earlier this year of the swansong End of Forever (review here), relocated-to-Brazil guitarist/vocalist Christian Peters (interview here) debuts the instrumental solo-project Fuzz Sagrado with a three-song self-titled EP, handling all instruments himself including drum programming. “Duck Dharma,” “Two Face” and “Pato’s Blues” take on a style not entirely separate from his former outfit, but feel stripped down in more than just the lack of singing, bringing together a more concise vision of heavy psychedelic rock, further distinguished by the use of Mellotron, Minimoog and Hammond alongside the guitar, bass and drum sounds, complementing the boogie in “Pato’s Blues” even as it surges into its final minute. Where Peters will ultimately take the project remains to be seen, but he’s got his own label to put it out and reportedly a glut of material to work with, so right on.
It’s 10PM, do you know where your head is? Wolves in Haze might. The Gothenburg-based three-piece of vocalist/guitarist Manne Olander, guitarist Olle Hansson and drummer/bassist/co-producer Kalle Lilja set about removing that very thing with their second record, Chaos Reigns, working at Welfare Sounds with Lilja and Per Stålberg at the helm in a seeming homage to Sunlight Studios as reinvented in a heavy rock context. Still, “In Fire” and “The Night Stalker” are plainly sinister in their riffs — the latter turning to a chorus and back into a gallop in a way that reminds pointedly of At the Gates, never mind the vocals that follow — and “Into the Grave” is as much bite as bark. They’re not without letup, as “Mr. Destroyer” explores moodier atmospherics, but even the lumbering finish of the title-track that ends the album is violent in intent. They call it Chaos Reigns, but they know exactly what the fuck they’re doing.
They work a bit of NWOBHM guitar harmony into the solos on “Rehash” and “At Wit’s End,” and the centerpiece “Interlude” is a willful play toward strum-and-whistle Morricone-ism, but for the most part, Louisville’s Shi are hell-bent on destructive sludge, with the rasp of guitarist Bael — joined in the effort by guitarist Jayce, bassist Zach and drummer Tyler — setting a Weedeater-style impression early on “Best Laid Plans” and letting the rest unfold as it will, with “Lawn Care for Adults” and “We’ll Bang, OK?” and the chugging fuckery of the title-track sticking largely to the course the riffs lay out. They make it mean, which is exactly the way it should be made, and even the sub-two-minute “Trough Guzzler” finds its way into a nasty-as-hell mire. Sludge heads will want to take note. Anyone else will probably wonder what smells like rotting.
Oh, that’s just disgusting. Come on now. Be reasonable, Churchburn. This third LP from the Providence, Rhode Island, extremists brings them into alignment with Translation Loss Records and though it’s just five songs — plus the intro “Toll of Annihilation” — and 33 minutes long, that’s plenty of time for guitarist/vocalist Dave Suzuki and company to pull you down a hole of blistering, vitriolic terrors. Where does the death end and the doom begin? Who gives a shit? Suzuki, bassist/vocalist Derek Muniz, guitarist Timmy St. Amour and drummer Ray McCaffrey take a duly mournful respite with “Unmendable Absence,” but after that, the onslaught of “Scarred” and the finale “Sin of Angels” — with Incantation‘s John McEntee sitting in on vocals — is monstrous and stupefyingly heavy. You’ll be too busy picking up teeth to worry about where the lines of one microgenre ends and another begins.
Have riffs, will plod. Voidscapes, the three-song second EP from Las Vegas’ Sonolith lets the listener know quickly where it’s coming from, speaking a language (without actually speaking, mind you) that tells tales of amplifier and tonal worship, the act of rolling a massive groove like that central to nine-minute opener “Deep Space Leviathan” as much about the trance induced in the band as the nod resultant for the listener. Close your eyes, follow it out. They complement with the shorter “Pyrrhic Victory,” which moves from a subdued and spacey opening line into post-High on Fire chug and gallop, effectively layering solos over the midsection and final payoff, and “Star Worshipers,” which slows down again and howls out its lead to touch on Electric Wizard without being so overt about it. At about three minutes in, Sonolith kick the tempo a bit, but it’s the more languid groove that wins the day, and the concluding sample about traveling the universe could hardly be more appropriate. Asks nothing, delivers 21 minutes of riffs. If I ever complain about that, I’m done.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on September 9th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Philadelphia’s Wail are a put-up-or-shut-up kind of band, so here they are putting up. The sans-vocals four-piece released their self-titled debut (review here) in July through Translation Loss, and they now invite the audience to watch and listen as they make part of it. The video for “Astronomy” below is, by all accounts, as it happened at Red Planet Studio.
You get to see drummer Calvin Weston nailing it alongside bassist Alexi Papadopoulos and guitarists Yanni Papadopoulos and Pete Wilder, who leads the jam, and you get to see that jam come together in one of those rare moments bands talk about where everything just clicks. I interview people all the time about songwriting — it’s my favorite thing to talk about in interviews, if you couldn’t tell — and it doesn’t happen all the time or even particularly often, but every now and then someone will tell you about a magic moment where everything comes together and a song is finished being written more or less at the exact time it’s done being played through once.
Now, given the instrumentalist, improvisational nature of Wail, it’s a somewhat different case for “Astronomy,” but still, what comes through in the clip is chemistry and a union of purpose whose results speak for themselves in the song itself. There’s a reason I hosted the album stream before it came out and why I’m hosting the video premiere now. It’s because I think it’s worth your time. That’s about as straightforward as I can say it.
Hey, here’s talented people doing cool shit together. Plus some shots of space. There.
I hope you have a great day. Sincerely.
Enjoy:
Wail, “Astronomy” official video premiere
Wail on “Astronomy”:
This video is Wail live in Red Planet Studio recording our album. We were lucky to have two cameras on when we recorded the song Astronomy. We were happy with the performances and didn’t need any fixing or overdubbing. What you see is a band jamming on a groove, in other words, improvising. If the mood is right, this can capture some fantastic results, music produced by listening and reacting. Pete Wilder (guitarist – red Ibanez) wrote the groove, then took the footage and led us on a trip through the Cosmos.
The new video “Astronomy” by Philadelphia band WAIL.
Featuring Calvin Weston on drums, Pete Wilder and Yanni Papadopoulos on guitar, Alexi Papadopoulos on bass.
