Posted in Whathaveyou on August 5th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Trondheim, Norway’s White Tundra ingratiated themselves with their 2023 self-titled debut (review here), fostering a sound that reached into heavy progressivism without being subsumed by the modernity of it all when it came to digging in on a densely-toned groove. Their second album, it just so happens, is being worked on now — right now, while we speak, no matter what time it is where you live — and will see release through Argonauta Records‘ imprint Octopus Rising, the roster of which continues to expand.
As to when that might happen, let’s presume they want to finish the LP before they put it out, so maybe 2026? I’ll pencil them into the notes for next year and keep an eye to see if maybe they want to be clever and sneak it out in December or somesuch. You never know with these things.
Words from the PR wire in blue:
Mystic Norwegian rockers WHITE TUNDRA join forces with Octopus Rising / Argonauta Records
We are proud to welcome WHITE TUNDRA to the Octopus Rising / Argonauta Records family. These visionary heavy voyagers channel the raw power of nature into their music, blending crushing riffs, groovy rhythms and a deep atmospheric sensibility.
Emerging from the northern marshes, WHITE TUNDRA creates sonic journeys that drift across icy tundras and into shadowy forests. Their sound is a thrilling mix of 70s heavy rock and 90s stoner vibes, enriched by elements of doom, black metal and Nordic folklore. With influences ranging from Red Fang to Witchcraft and Skraeckoedlan, they deliver a truly unique and heavy experience.
After making waves with their self-titled debut album in 2023, which earned a place on the Doom Charts and widespread praise throughout the underground scene, WHITE TUNDRA are now back in the studio. The band is currently working on their second full-length album at AutumnSongs Recording Studio, with producer Rhys Marsh behind the console.
The band states, “We’re stoked to be part of the Octopus Rising / Argonauta Records family. This partnership marks a new chapter for WHITE TUNDRA and we’re excited to share the powerful new material we’ve been creating.”
Formed in 2018, WHITE TUNDRA has already released a 7-inch single, an EP, and a debut album through the local label All Good Clean Records. With a solid and inspired lineup now in place, they are ready to reach new heights and captivate a wider audience.
Stay tuned for more news, sneak peeks and upcoming live shows.
Line-up Steven Kresin – Guitar and vocals Kjell Andres Nilsen – Lead guitar and vocals Øyvind Persvik – Bass Ola Fuglevaag – Drums
Alright, y’all. This is where it ends. The Quarterly Review has been an absolute blast, an easy, fun, good time to have, but inevitably it must come to close and that’s where we’re at. Last day. Last 10 releases. Thanks if you’ve kept up. I’ll be back I think in September with another one of these, probably longer.
Hope you’ve found something killer this week. I did.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Katatonia, Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State
Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State is the first long-player in the 34-year history of Katatonia — upwards of their 13th album, depending on what you count — to not feature guitarist Anders Nyström. That leaves frontman Jonas Renkse as the remaining founder of the band, with two new guitarists in Nico Elgstrand and Sebastian Svalland, bassist Niklas Sandin and drummer Daniel Moilanen, steering one of heavy music’s most identifiable sounds in new ways. “Wind of No Change” is duly subversive, and “Departure Trails” basks in texture in a way Katatonia have periodically throughout the last 20 years, but the Opethian severity of they keys in “The Light Which I Bleed” and the declarative chug at the end of opener “Thrice” speak to the band’s awareness of the need to occasionally be very, very heavy, even as “Efter Solen” shifts into dark, emotive electronics ahead of the sweeping finale “In the Event Of…” Renkse has never wanted for expression as a singer. If he’s to be the driving force behind Katatonia, fair enough for how that manifests here.
Black Moon Circle, A Million Leagues Beyond: Moskus Sessions Vol. I
Trondheim, Norway’s Black Moon Circle recorded the four-song set of A Million Leagues Beyond: Moskus Sessions Vol. 1 at the hometown venue of Moskus, a small bar that, to hear them tell it, mostly hosts jazz. Fair enough for cosmic heavy psychedelic grunge rock to join the fray, I should think. It was late in 2023, so earlier that year’s Leave the Ghost Behind (review here) full-length features readily, with “Snake Oil” following the opener “Drifting Across the Plains” — which is jazzy enough, certainly — ahead of the chunkier-riffed “Serpent” and a 20-minute take on “Psychedelic Spacelord (Lighter Than Air),” which has become a signature piece for the three-piece, suitably expansive. If you know Black Moon Circle‘s studio albums, you know they do as much as they can live. Honestly, A Million Leagues Beyond: Moskus Sessions Vol. I isn’t all that different, but it’s definitely a performance worth enjoying.
Kudos if you had ‘new Bloodhorse‘ on your 2025 Stoner Rock Bingo card or caught it when they launched an Instagram page last year. I certainly didn’t. The Massachusetts aughts-type prog-leaning riffmakers were last heard from with their 2009 debut album, Horizoner (review here), and the six-song/28-minute A Malign Star serves as a vital return, if not one brimming with good vibes as “The Somnambulist” dream-crushes its four-minute course, the band not so much dwelling in atmospheres like the relatively careening “Shallowness,” but getting into a song, making their point, and getting out. This works to their advantage in opener “Saboteur” and the chuggier title-track that follows, but even six-minute closer “Illumination” retains a sense of immediacy amid the dirty fuzz and comparatively laid back roll. This band was once the shape of sludge to come. 16 years later, the future has taken a different course and everybody’s a little more middle-aged, but Bloodhorse still kind of feel like they’re waiting for the world to catch up.
Should you find yourself thinking you didn’t remember Canadian riffers Aawks — also stylized all-caps: AAWKS — having quite such a nasty streak, you’re not alone. Their 2022 debut, Heavy on the Cosmic (review here), had a take that seems like fuzzy dream-pop in comparison to “Celestial Magick” and the screamy sludge that populates On Through the Sky Maze, their second LP. The nine-song 48-minute full-length is the first to feature bassist/vocalist Ryan “Grime Pup” Mailman alongside guitarist/vocalist Kris Dzierzbicki, guitarist Roberto Paraíso, and drummer Randylin Babic, and songs like “Lost Dwellers” or the mellow-spacier “Drifting Upward,” with no harsh vocals, seem to hit more directly, in addition to arriving in a different context with the “blegh”s of “Wandering Supergiants” and “Caerdoia,” and so on. In the end, Mailman‘s rasp becomes one more tool in Aawks‘ songwriting shed, and the band have more breadth and are less predictable for it. Call that a win, even before you get to the record being good.
The shimmering, floating guitar in “Echoes (The Empress)” tells part of the story in the deep-running The Cure influence, and the somewhat moody vocals of Charlie Suárez echo that emotional foundation, which is coupled in that song and throughout Moon Destroys‘ debut album, She Walks by Moonlight, with a willful progressivism in the songwriting, attention to detail in the arrangements, melodies, even the mix. Comprised of Suárez, guitarist Juan Montoya (ex-Torche), bassist Arnold Nese and drummer/producer Evan Diprima (Royal Thunder), the band are able to set a wash in place that’s not deceptively heavy in “The Nearness of June” (an earlier demo track) because it’s beating you over the head with tone, but still has more to offer than just its own heft. “Only” sounds like heavied-up proto-emo, while the roll of “Set Them Free” is massive in terms of both its riff and its big feelings. If you’re willing to let it grow on you, She Walks by Moonlight can be a space to occupy.
In Space We Trust is one of four-so-far full-lengths that Santtu Laakso — multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, composer and producer — has out between Astral Magic and related collaborations and projects. It’s not a pace of releasing one can keep up with, but if you need a check-in from the generation ship that is Astral Magic, chances are Laakso is out there on some voyage or other between classic space rock and clearheaded prog, spanning galaxies. The eight-song/42-minute In Space We Trust pairs him with lead guitarist Jonathan Segel (Øresund Space Collective, etc.), and one should not be surprised at the cosmic nature of the resulting music. The pair get into some sci-fi atmospherics in “Ancient Pilots” and “Alien Emperor,” but the synth and guitar are leading the way across the galaxy and the vibe across the board is more Voyager and less Nostromo, so yes, smooth solar-sailing the whole way through.
The dreamy guitar, semi-rapped vocal, and dub backbeat give the opening title-track of Never Never a decidedly ’90s cast, but it’s not the summary of what Toronto’s Lammping have to offer in their collaboration with weirdo-rockabilly solo artist Bloodshot Bill, bringing together their urbane, grounded psych and studiocraft, samples, etc., with the singer/guitarist’s low, sometimes bluesy delivery across seven songs totaling 15 minutes, peppering the vibe-on-vibes of “Never Never,” “One and Own” and “Won’t Back Down” — the longest inclusion at 3:23 — with ramble and flow alike, with experimental jawns like “Coconut,” “0 and 1” or “Anything is Possible” and the closer “Nitey Nite,” all under two minutes long and each going their own way with the casual cool one has come to expect from Lammping, quietly staking out their own wavelength while still sounding like something from a half-remembered soundtrack to a radder version of your life. This is one of four releases Lammping will reportedly have over the next year or so. Way on board for whatever’s coming next.
After the disbanding of Samsara Blues Experiment in 2021, guitarist/vocalist Christian Peters — who had already by then moved from Germany to Brazil — unveiled Fuzz Sagrado with EPs in July and October of that year. Fuzz Sagrado‘s 2021 self-titled (review here) and Vida Pura EPs are included on Strange Daze, a new compilation of tracks unified through a remaster by John McBain, showcasing the early outreach of keyboard and guitar that served as the foundation for the project. As Peters readies a live band for an eventual return to the stage, Strange Daze demonstrates how multifaceted the growth has been in terms of songwriting and still feels exploratory in hindsight as it did when the material was first released. Also included is the jammy “Arapongas,” which wasn’t on either EP but was recorded around the same time. Something of a curio or a fan-piece, but I ain’t arguing.
When the Deadbolt Breaks, In the Glow of the Vatican Fire
A couple different modes on When the Deadbolt Breaks‘ In the Glow of the Vatican Fire, which is the long-running Connecticut malevolent doomers’ umpteenth album, running 63 minutes and eight songs. Some of those are longer pieces, like opener “The Scythe Will Come” (12:24), “The Chaos of Water” (14:02), “The Deep Well” (10:42) and “Red Sparrow” (10:57), but interspersed with these are a succession of shorter tracks, and the breakdown between them isn’t just that the short songs are fast and the long songs are slow. Certainly the ripping early portions (and the later, more minimalist spaciousness) of “The Chaos of Water” argue against this, and the dynamic turns out to be correspondingly complex to suit the abiding murk of mood, as founding guitarist/vocalist Aaron Lewis and co-singer Cherilynne provide foreboding croon to suit the lo-fi, creeping, distorted terrors of the music surrounding. This is When the Deadbolt Breaks absolutely in their element; bleak, churn-chaotic, expressive, immersive. They’re able to put you where they want you whether you want to go or not.
It may have sat on the shelf for two years since recording finished in 2023, but don’t worry, it’s still from the future. Laughter is the second-on-Sulatron full-length from Italian experimentalists A/lpaca, and it sees them push deeper into electronic elements and ambiences, keeping some of the krautrock elements of their 2021’s Make it Better, but with songs that are shorter on average and that stand ready to convey a sense of quirk in the keyboard elements or the Devo verses of the title-track, which isn’t without its aspect of shove. Does it get weird? You bet your ass it does. “Bianca’s Videotape,” “Who’s in Love Daddy?,” the post-punk synthery meeting doomed fuzz on “Empty Chairs,” the list goes on. Actually, it’s just the tracklisting and it’s all pretty freaked out, so as long as you know going in that the band are working from their own standard of weirdoism, making the jump into the keyboardy gorge of “Kyrie” or the new wave-y “Don’t Talk” should be no problem. If you heard the last record, yeah, this is different. Seems like the next one will probably be different again too. Not everyone wants to do the same thing all the time.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 18th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Those of you playing along at home with your The Obelisk Brand™ Calendar of Such and Sundry will want to take out your secret-code invisible ink pen and keep an eye for more to come, because I’m trying to line up a stream ahead of the May 16 release date of Black Moon Circle‘s A Million Leagues Beyond – Moskus Sessions: Vol. 1 studio session. Whether or not that comes together — I’m always hopeful, but sometimes there’s a plan already unfolding — the captured-live outing is the first release from the Trondheim, Norway-based outfit since 2023’s Leave the Ghost Behind (review here), which was a righteously cut gem of cosmic origin. Three of the four tracks that feature on A Million Leagues Beyond, for example, come from that record. So yes, relevant.
I asked bassist/vocalist Øyvin Engan for some background on the release, and he was kind enough to offer a bit of insight, which you’ll find below, along with the release info that I assume will be on the Bandcamp page when preorders go up. All follows the cover art:
BLACK MOON CIRCLE – A Million Leagues Beyond
A Million Leagues Beyond will be out May 16th and as always it will be released on vinyl by Torgeir and Crispin Glover Records. In addition the record will also be out on digital platforms, and finally, it will be printed on CD which will be sold through Bandcamp.
Usually I wouldn’t say anything about the music, but this will be an exception. The record is not an effort to make a documentation of that night at Moskus. Sure, the songs were played that night, but not in this order and many were left out for this release. So this is not a classic ‘Live at…’ record, like Thin Lizzy in Live & Dangerous, Steve Ray Vaughan in Live at El Mocambo, etc. So what is it?
Moskus is a small bar located in Trondheim that hosts about 70 concerts every year, in genres as diverse as jazz, country, americana, rock, progressive jazz and occasionally psychedelic hard rock. You can cram 80 people into the venue, with their backs against the wall — which, by the way, is covered with vinyl records — the audience faces the stage which barely has room for drums and a couple of amplifiers. Obviously, when the band is done playing, the staff lower the needle into the groove, and music pours out from the speakers. It is ‘vinyl-only’ at Moskus.
This session was recorded in front of an enthusiastic crowd, on the 18th November 2023, by Åsmund Arnesson Rise. The album was mixed in Nautilus Studio by Øyvin Engan, and mastered by Helge Sten at Audio Virus Lab. The rattle-can stencil art, ‘Cosmic Divah’, was painted by Paul, and photographed by Thor Egil Leirtrø. The cover art was designed by Håvard Gjelseth. This release is supported by Trondheim Kommune. Tomas expresses his gratitude for the support from Frank Jacobs at Pearl Drums Europe, Jarle Johansen at CRS and Vidar Kolberg at 4Sound Trondheim. We say: Thank you Torgeir Lund (Crispin Glover Records) for releasing the music, and providing help in every possible way. Thank you Magnus Lykkelig and Tor Schølberg for your continuous support of live music. It is never taken for granted.
Tracklisting: 01. Drifting Across the Plains 02. Snake Oil 03. Serpent 04. Psychedelic Spacelord (Lighter Than Air)
Black Moon Circle: Øyvin Engan: vocals bass Vemund Engan: guitar, backing vocals Tomas Järmyr: drums Dr. Space: synth
Posted in Reviews on October 15th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I’ll be honest, I don’t even want to talk about how well this Quarterly Review is going because I worry about screwing it up. It’s always a lot of work to round up 10 records per day, even if there’s a single or and EP snuck in there, but it’s been a long time now that I’ve been doing things this way — sometimes as a means of keeping up, sometimes to herald things to come, usually just a way to write about things I want to write about regardless of timeliness — and it’s always worth it. I’ve had a couple genuinely easy days here. Easier than expected. Obviously that’s a win.
So while I wait for the other shoe to drop, let’s keep the momentum going.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
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Massive Hassle, Unreal Damage
Brotherly two-piece Massive Hassle, comprised of brothers Bill Fisher and Marty Fisher — who played together in Mammothwing and now both feature in Church of the Cosmic Skull — get down with another incredibly complex set of harmonized ’70s-style soul-groovers, nailing it as regards tone and tempo from the big riff that eats “Lost in the Changes” to the strums and croons early in the penultimate “Tenspot,” hitting a high note together in that song that gives over to stark and wistful standalone guitar meander that with barely a minute ago gorgeously becomes a bittersweet triumph of nostalgic fuzz reminiscent of Colour Haze‘s “Fire” and having the sheer unmitigated gall to tell the world around them it’s no big deal by naming the band Massive Hassle and stating that as the thing they most want to avoid. When they did Number One (review here) in 2023, it felt like they were proving the concept. With Unreal Damage, they’re quietly pushing limits.
Iress are the Los Angeles-based four-piece of Michelle Malley (vocals), Michael Maldonado (bass), Glenn Chu (drums) and Graham Walker (guitar). Sleep Now, In Reverse is their fourth full-length in nearly 15 years of existence. As a record, it accomplishes a lot of things, but what you need to understand is that where it most succeeds and stands itself out is in bringing together a heavy post-rock sound — heavygaze, as the kids don’t say because they don’t know what it is — with emotive expression on vocals, a blending of ethereal and the most human and affecting, and when Malley lets loose in the payoff of “Mercy,” it’s an early highlight with plenty more to follow. It’s not that Iress are reinventing genre — evolving, maybe? — but what they’re doing with it is an ideal unto itself, taking those aspects from across an aesthetic range and incorporating them into a whole, at times defiantly cohesive sound, lush but clearheaded front to back.
When the band put the shimmying “Apocalypse Babes” up as a standalone single last year, it was some five years after their debut full-length, 2018’s Mindtripper (review here) — though there was a split between — so not an insignificant amount of time for Norway’s Magmakammer to expand on their methods and dig into the songs. To be sure, “Doom Jive” and “Zimbardo” still have that big-hook, Uncle Acid-style dirty garage buzz that lends itself so well to cultish themes but thankfully here is about more than murder. And indeed, the band seems to have branched out a bit, and the eight-song/43-minute Before I Burn is well served by divergences like the closing “I Will Guide Your Hand” or the way “Cult of Misanthropy” sounds like a studio outtake on a bootleg from 1969 until they kick it open around a build of marching guitar, even as it stays loyal to Magmakammer‘s core stylistic purposes. A welcome return.
The kind of sludge rock Ohio’s Evel play, informed by Mondo Generator‘s druggy, volatile heavy punk and C.O.C.‘s Southern metal nod, maybe a bit of High on Fire in “Alaska,” with a particularly Midwestern disappointment-in-everything that would’ve gone over well at Emissions From the Monolith circa 2003, isn’t what’s trendy. It’s not the cool thing. It doesn’t care about that, or about this review, or about providing social media content to maximize its algorithmic exposure. I’m not knocking any of that — especially the review, which is going swimmingly; I promise a point is coming — but if Evel‘s six-songer debut EP, Omen, is a foretell of things to come, the intention behind it is more about the catharsis of the writing/performance than trying to play to ‘scene’-type expectations. It is a pissed-off fuckall around which the band — which features guitarist/vocalist Alex Perekrest, also of Red Giant — will continue to build as “Dust Angel” and the swinging “Dawn Patrol” already find them doing. The going will likely be noisy, and that’s just fine.
Some six years and one reunion after their fourth album, 2018’s The Lucky Ones (review here), Virginia-born classic heavy barnburners Satan’s Satyrs are back with a fifth collection beating around riffs from Sabbath and the primordial ooze of heavy that birthed them, duly brash and infectious in their energy. Founding bassist/vocalist Clayton Burgess and guitarist Jarrett Nettnin are joined in the new incarnation of the band by guitarist Morgan McDaniel (also Mirror Queen) and drummer Russ Yusuf — though Sean Saley has been with them for recent live shows — and as they strut and swing through “Saltair Burns” like Pentagram if they’d known how to play jazz but were still doom, or the buzzy demo-style experimentation of “Genuine Turquoise,” which I’m just going to guess came together differently than was first expected. So much the better. They’ve never been hugely innovative, but Satan’s Satyrs have consistently delivered at this point across a span of more than a decade and they have their own spin on the style. They may always be a live band, but at least in my mind, there’s not much more one would ask that After Dark doesn’t deliver.
Delivered through Kozmik Artifactz, Weight in Gold is the second long-player from Melbourne, Australia’s Whoopie Cat, and it meets the listener at the intersection of classic, ’70s-style heavy blues rock and prog. Making dynamic use of a dual-vocal approach in “Pretty Baby” after establishing tone, presence and craft as assets with the seven-minute opening title-track, the band are unflinchingly modern in production even as they lean toward vintage-style song construction, and that meld of intention results in an organic sound that’s not restricted by the recording. Plus it’s louder, which doesn’t hurt most of the time. In any case, as Whoopie Cat follow-up their 2018 debut, Illusion of Choice, they do so with distinction and the ability to convey a firm grasp on their songwriting and convey a depth of intention from the what-if-Queen-but-blues “Icarus” or the consuming Hammondery of closer “Oh My Love.” Listening, I can’t help but wonder how far into prog they might ultimately go, but they’ve found a sweetspot in these songs that’s between styles, and they fit right in it.
Cheeky, heavy garage punk surely will not be enough to save the immortal souls of Earth Tongue from all their devil worship and intricate vocal patterning. And honestly the New Zealand two-piece — I could’ve sworn I saw something about them moving to Germany, but maybe they just had a really good Berlin show? — sound fine with that. Guitarist Gussie Larkin and drummer Ezra Simons benefit from the straightforward outward nature of their songs. That is, “Out of This Hell,” “The Mirror,” “Bodies Dissolve Tonight!” and any of the other nine inclusions on the record that either were or could’ve been singles, are catchy and tightly written. They’re not overplayed or underplayed, and they have enough tonal force in Larkin‘s guitar that the harder churn of closer “The Reluctant Host” can leave its own impression and still feel fluid alongside some of Great Haunting‘s sweeter psych-punk. Wherever they live, the two-piece make toys out of pop and praise music so that even “Miraculous Death” sounds like, and is, fun.
The collection House of Pain (Demos) takes its title from the place where guitarist/vocalist Tomas Iramain recorded them alongside bassist Matias Maltratador and drummer Jorge Iramain, though whether it’s a studio, rehearsal space, or an actual house, I won’t profess to know. Tomas is the lone remaining member carried over from the band’s 2020 self-titled LP, and the other part of what you need to know about House of Pain (Demos) can also be found in the title: it’s demos. Do not expect a studio sound full of flourish and nuance. Reportedly most of the songs were tracked with two Shure SM57s (the standard vocal mic), save for “Nomad” and “The Way I Am,” I guess because one broke? The point is, as raw as they are — and they are raw — these demos want nothing for appeal. The bounce in the bonus-track-type “Mountain (Take 1)” feels like a Dead Meadowy saunter, and for all of its one-mic-ness, “Nomad” gives a twist on ’50s and early ’60s guitar instrumentals that’s only bolstered by the recording. I’m not saying Las Historias should press up 10,000 LPs immediately or anything, but if this was the record, or maybe an EP and positioned as more substantial than the demos, aside from a couple repeated tracks, you could do far worse. “Hell Bird” howls, man. Twice over.
Certainly “Come With Me” and others on Aquanaut‘s self-titled debut have their desert rocking aspects, but there’s at least as much The Sword as Kyuss in what the Trondheim, Norway, newcomers unfurl on their self-titled, self-released debut, and when you can careen like in “Gamma Rays,” maybe sometimes you don’t need anything else. The seven-track/35-minute outing gets off to a bluesy, boozy start with “Lenéa,” and from there, Aquanaut are able to hone an approach that has its sludgier side in some of the Eyehategod bark of “Morality” but that comes to push increasingly far out as it plays through, so that “Living Memories” soars as the finale after the mid-tempo fuzzmaking of “Ivory,” and so Aquanaut seem to have a nascent breadth working for them in addition to the vigor of a young band shaping a collective persona. The generational turnover in Norway is prevalent right now with a number of promising debuts and breakouts in the last couple years. Aquanaut have a traditionalism at their core but feel like they want to break it as much as celebrate it, and if you’re the type to look for ‘bands to watch,’ that’s a reason to watch. Or even listen, if you’re feeling especially risk-friendly.
While I would be glad to be writing about Ghost Frog‘s quirky heavy-Weezerism and psychedelic chicanery even if their third album, Galactic Mini Golf didn’t have a song called “Deep Space Nine Iron” on it, I can’t lie and say that doesn’t make the prospect a little sweeter. It’s an interlude and I don’t even care — they made it and it’s real. The Portland, Oregon, four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Quinn Schwartz, guitarist/synthesist Karl Beheim, bassist Archie Heald and drummer Vincent LiRocchi (the latter making his first appearance) keep somewhat to a golfy theme, find another layer’s worth of heavy on “Shadow Club,” declare themselves weird before you even press play and reinforce the claim in both righteous post-grunge roll of “Burden of Proof” and the new wave rock of “Bubble Guns” before the big ol’ stompy riff in “Black Hole in One’ leads to a purposeful whole-album finish. Some things don’t have to make the regular kind of sense, because they make their own kind. Absurd as the revelry gets, Ghost Frog make their own kind of sense. Maybe you’ll find it’s also your kind of sense and that’s how we learn things about ourselves from art. Have a great rest of your day.
Posted in Reviews on November 30th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Generally I think of Thursday as the penultimate day of a given Quarterly Review. This one I was thinking of adding more days to get more stuff in ahead of year-end coverage coming up in December. I don’t know what that would do to my weekend — actually, yes I do — but sometimes it’s worth it. I’m yet undecided. Will let you know tomorrow, or perhaps not. Dork of mystery, I am.
Today is PACKED with cool sounds. If you haven’t found something yet that’s really hit you, it might be your day.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
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Tortuga, Iterations
From traditionalist proto-doom and keyboard-inflected prog to psychedelic jamming and the Mountain-style start-stop riff on “Lilith,” Poznań, Poland’s Tortuga follow 2020’s Deities (discussed here) with seven tracks and 45 minutes that come across as simple and barebones in the distortion of the guitar and the light reverb on the vocals, but the doom rock doesn’t carry from “Lilith” into “Laspes,” which has more of a ’60s psych crux, a mellow but not unjoyful meander in its first half turning to a massive lumber in the second, all the more elephantine with a solo overtop. They continue throughout to cross the lines between niches — “Quaus” has some dungeon growls, “Epitaph” slogs emotive like Pallbearer, etc. — and offer finely detailed performances in a sound malleable to suit the purposes of their songs. Polish heavy doesn’t screw around. Well, at least not any more than it wants to. Tortuga‘s creative reach becomes part of the character of the album.
I’m sorry, I gotta ask: What’s the point of anything when Spidergawd can put out a record like VII and it’s business as usual? Like, the world doesn’t stop for a collective “holy shit” moment. Even in the heavy underground, never mind general population. These are the kinds of songs that could save lives if properly employed to do so, and for the Norwegian outfit, it’s just what they do. The careening hooks of “Sands of Time” and “The Tower” at the start, the melodies across the span. The energy. I guess this is dad rock? Shit man, I’m a dad. I’m not this cool. Spidergawd have seven records out and I feel like Metallica should’ve been opening for them at stadiums this past summer, but they remain criminally underrated and perhaps use that as flexibility around their pop-heavy foundation to explore new ideas. The last three songs on VII — “Afterburner,” “Your Heritage” and “…And Nothing But the Truth” — are among the strongest and broadest Spidergawd have ever done, and “Dinosaur” and the classic-metal ripper “Bored to Death” give them due preface. One of the best active heavy rock bands, living up to and surpassing their own high standards.
Rumbling low end and spacious guitar, slow flowing drums and contemplative vocals, and some charred sludge for good measure, mark out the procession of “At First Light” on Morag Tong‘s third album and first for Majestic Mountain Records, the four-song Grieve. Moving from that initial encapsulation through the raw-throat sludge thud of most of “Passages,” they crash out and give over to quiet guitar at about four minutes in and set up the transition to the low-end groove-cool of “A Stem’s Embrace,” a sleepy fluidity hitting its full voluminous crux after three minutes in, crushing from there en route to its noisy finish at just over nine minutes long. That would be the epic finisher of most records, but Morag Tong‘s grievances extend to the 20-minute “No Sun, No Moon,” which at 20 minutes is a full-length’s progression on its own. At very least the entirety of side B, but more than the actual runtime is the theoretical amount of space covered as the four-piece shift from ambient drone through huge plod and resolve the skyless closer with a crushing delve into post-sludge atmospherics. That’s as fitting an end as one could ask for an offering that so brazenly refuses to follow impulses other than its own.
The nine-song Wahn Und Sinn carries the distinction of being the first full-length from German singer-songwriter Conny Ochs — also known for his work in Ananda Mida and his collaboration with Wino — to be sung in his own language. As a non-German speaker, I won’t pretend that doesn’t change the listening experience, but that’s the idea. Words and melodies in different languages take on corresponding differences in character, and so in addition to appreciating the strings, pianos, acoustic and electric guitars, and, in the case of “Welle,” a bit of static noise in a relatively brief electronic soundscape, hearing Ochs‘ delivery no less emotive for switching languages on the cinematic “Grimassen,” or the lounge drama of “Ding” earlier on, it’s a new side from a veteran figure whose “experimentalism” — and no, I’m not talking about singing in your own language as experimental, I’m talking about Trialogos there — is backburnered in favor of more traditional, still rampantly melancholy pop arrangements. It sounds like someone who’s decided they can do whatever the hell they feel like their songs should making that a reality. Only an asshole would hold not speaking the language against that.
I’m going to write this review as though I’m speaking directly to Ritual King because, well, I am. Hey guys. Congrats on the record. I can hear a ton going on with it. Some of Elder‘s bright atmospherics and rhythmic twists, some more familiar stoner riffage repurposed to suit a song like “Worlds Divide” after “Flow State” calls Truckfighters to mind, the songs progressive and melodic. The way you keep that nod in reserve for “Landmass?” That’s what I’m talking about. Here’s some advice you didn’t ask for: Keep going. I’m sure you have big plans for next year, and that’s great, and one thing leads to the next. You’re gonna have people for the next however long telling you what you need to do. Do what feels right to you, and keep in mind the decisions that led you to where you are, because you’re right there, headed to the heart of this thing you’re discovering. Two records deep there’s still a lot of potential in your sound, but I think you know a track like “Tethered” is a victory on its own, and that as big as “The Infinite Mirror” gets at the end, the real chance it takes is in the earlier vocal melody. You’re a better band than people know. Just keep going. Thanks.
Inhabiting the sort of alternately engulfing and minimal spaces generally occupied by the likes of Bell Witch, New Jersey’s Oldest Sea make their full-length debut with A Birdsong, A Ghost and realize a bleakness of mood that is affecting even in its tempo, seeming to slow the world around it to its own crawl. The duo of Samantha Marandola and Andrew Marandola, who brought forth their Strange and Eternal EP (review here) in 2022, find emotive resonance in a death-doom build through the later reaches of “Untracing,” but the subsequent three-minute-piece-for-chorus-and-distorted-drone “Astronomical Twilight” and the similarly barely-there-until-it-very-much-is closer “Metamorphose” mark out either end of the extremes while “The Machines That Made Us Old” echoes Godflesh in its later riffing as Samantha‘s voice works through screams en route to a daringly hopeful drone. Volatile but controlled, it is a debut of note for its patience and vulnerability as well as its deep-impact crash and consuming tone.
Each track on Dim Electrics‘ self-titled five-songer LP becomes a place to rest for a while. No individual piece is lacking activity, but each cut has room for the listener to get inside and either follow the interweaving aural patterns or zone out as they will. Founded by Mahk Rumbae, the Vienna-based project is meditative in the sense of basking in repetition, but flashes like the organ in the middle of “Saint” or the shimmy that takes hold in 18-minute closer “Dream Reaction” assure it doesn’t reside in one place for too much actual realtime, of which it’s easy to lose track when so much krautgazey flow is at hand. Beginning with ambience, “Ways of Seeing” leads the listener deeper into the aural chasm it seems to have opened, and the swirling echoes around take on a life of their own in the ecosystem of some vision of space rock that’s also happening under the ground — past and future merging as in the mellotron techno of “Memory Cage” — which any fool can tell you is where the good mushrooms grow. Dug-in, immersive, engaging if you let it be; Dim Electrics feels somewhat insular in its mind-expansion, but there’s plenty to go around if you can put yourself in the direction it’s headed.
A newcomer project from Kamil Ziółkowski, also known for his contributions as part of Polish heavy forerunners Spaceslug, the tone-forward approach of Mountain of Misery might be said to be informed by Ziółkowski‘s other project in opener “Not Away” or the penultimate “Climb by the Sundown,” with their languid vocals and slow-rolling tsunami fuzz in the spirit of heavy psych purveyors Colour Haze and even more to the point Sungrazer, but the howling guitar in the crescendo of closer “The Misery” and the all-out assault of “Hang So Low” distinguish the band all around. “The Rain is My Love” sways in the album’s middle, but it’s in “Circle in Roundness” that the 36-minute LP has its most subdued stretch, letting the spaces filled with fuzz elsewhere remain open as the verse builds atop the for-now-drumless expanse. Whatever familiar aspects persist, Mountain of Misery is its own band, and In Roundness is the exciting beginning of a new creative evolution.
The featured new single, “The Figure,” finds Barrie, Ontario’s Aawks somewhere between Canadian tonal lords Sons of Otis and the dense heavy psych riffing and melodic vocals of an act like Snail, and if you think I’m about to complain about that, you’ve very clearly never been to this site before. So hi, and welcome. The four-song Luna EP is Aawks‘ second short release of 2023 behind a split with Aiwass (review here), and the trio take on Flock of Seagulls and Pink Floyd for covers of the new wave radio hit “I Ran” and the psychedelic ur-classic “Julia Dream” before a live track, “All is Fine,” rounds out. As someone who’s never seen the band live, the additional crunch falls organic, and brings into relief the diversity Aawks show in and between these four songs, each of which inhabits a place in the emerging whole of the band’s persona. I don’t know if we’ll get there, but sign me up for the Canadian heavy revolution if this is the form it’s going to take.
The collaborative oeuvre of UK doomsperimental guitarist Mike Vest (Bong, Blown Out, Ozo, 11Paranoias, etc.) grows richer as he joins forces with Finnish trio Nolla to produce Kaliyuga Express‘ Warriors & Masters, which results in three tracks across two sides of far-out cosmic fuzz, shades of classic kraut and space rocks are wrought with jammy intention; the goal seeming to be the going more than the being gone as Vest and company burn through “Nightmare Dimensions” and the shoegazing “Behind the Veil” — the presence of vocals throughout is a distinguishing feature — hums in high and low frequencies in a repetitive inhale of stellar gases on side A while the 18:58 side B showdown “Endless Black Space” misdirects with a minute of cosmic background noise before unfurling itself across an exoplanet’s vision of cool and returning, wait for it, back to the drone from whence it came. Did you know stars are recycled all the time? Did you know that if you drop acid and peel your face off there’s another face underneath? Your third eye is googly. You can hear voices in the drones. Let me know what they tell you.
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 24th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Lots of Thin Lizzy, two Rush records, classic rock, heavy rock, grunge, Judas Priest, Aerosmith, big rock sounds like Boston, Dire Straits. More Thin Lizzy. Bruce Springsteen. Mob Rules. At the beginning of the video for “Sands of Time,” some of the members of Spidergawd are asked for the recipe that makes a record labeled ‘testpress’ that is presumably a copy of the band’s forthcoming album, VII, which is up for preorder now and out Nov. 10 on Crispin Glover Records and Stickman Records. It’s not an easy formula, but she ends up with a stack of records and there’s a twist ending that I won’t spoil for you.
I’m late on the news of the release and the video — it’s been a rough couple weeks; I do my best — but preorders I think are a recent advent, and that was what came through in the Stickman Records newsletter, which I know I’ve recommended before that you sign up because that label’s roster is absolutely vibrant and always has something cool going (Elder, King Buffalo, Temple Fang, Iron Jinn, Slomosa, Weedpecker, new offshoots like Weite or Full Earth, etc.) either in collaboration with anther label, as is the case here, or on their own. So yeah, here I am repeating myself: they don’t spam and it’s useful info. Plus, at least compared to my ass, you’d be ahead of the game. Some of this came from that, some came from Spidergawd‘s socials, and the video credits come from the video. All about sourcing lately, I guess.
Info, links, video — oh, and because it’s Spidergawd, there’s an entire slew of tour dates as well — follow here:
Spidergawd – VII On presale now – out November 10
Spidergawd have revealed their new full length coinciding with the band’s 10th anniversary. What’s changed over the years? As the band puts it themselves, “they have found THE recipe for what Spidergawd is all about.”
VII is an album full of tracks which are catchier, and indeed to a degree poppier, than ever before. Yet this element is matched by a significantly more “real” approach in production, which the band describes as “muddier, messier and bigger: everything that takes the listener closer to what’s going down on stage in a live Spidergawd performance.”
VII is available as a deluxe package including colored vinyl, a CD, a one-sided 7″ with etching and poster! We have two different color variants available.
(#128293#)Do check out our whole release tour & tickets here: linktr.ee/spidergawd
Tracklisting: 1. Sands Of Time 2. The Tower 3. Dinosaur 4. Bored To Death 5. Your Heritage 6. Afterburner 7. Anchor Song 8. …And Nothing But The Truth
Music video by Finn Walther Film Camera: Bjørn Ante Crispin Glover Record Shop Behind the counter: Ida Vie & Torgeir Lund Bulgarian Knutsen: Øystein Dolmen Little girl: Elina Music by Spidergawd (Spidergawd VII Album release 10.november 2023 – Crispin Glover Records / Stickman Records)
This week marks the release of White Tundra‘s self-titled debut full-length, as the three-piece hailing from New-Riff Norway (same Norway, new riffs) will issue the eight-tracker through All Good Clean Records. Running 40 minutes, White Tundra follows the 2021 single “Honningfella” (premiered here) and is a modern fuzz overdose, the trio of guitarist/vocalist Steven Kresin, lead guitarist Christoffer Kjørsvik (also album bass) and drummer Ola Fuglevaag crafting huge-sounding spaces with a mind for impact but not necessarily sticking to one methodology between that, as the careening, cowbell-inclusive shove of “Third Floor” demonstrates when set next to the midtempo “…Of the Eath” (premiering below) or the ambient intro “Fra Askeskog” that precedes eight-minute closer “Byting,” the persona of the band very much in line with an up-and-coming league of heavy acts, but the sound carrying a sense of severity one doesn’t always find in something so decisively not metal.
Shades of bands like Vokonis, Spaceslug, maybe a less frenetic Skraeckoedlan in some of their tones or a more frenetic Sungrazer with gravelly, echoing vocals if you want to look at it from the other side. The production is huge no matter how you approach White Tundra‘s White Tundra, and from the heavy post-rock sprawl of album-intro “Erwachen…” through the march and push of “…Of the Earth” they provide the depth in which one might immerse for the amp-frying duration and heft enough to keep the listener couch-locked, whether that the solo over the looped-sounding beat in the second half of “…Of the Earth” or the strident chug of “Find You,” which follows. By the time they get to “Addicted” and “Space Wars” in the middle of the album, they’ve effectively set the context in which the songs take place, and the lumber of “Space Wars” becomes the foundation for one of the record’s most entrancing explorations, a back and forth pattern through the tracklisting assuring that prior single “Third Floor” will keep momentum working in the band’s favor, which it does.
In “Third Floor,” “Space Wars,” “…Of the Earth” and certainly “Byting” and the ambient pieces, one can hear progressive aspects beginning to make themselves known in White Tundra‘s sound, and while one wouldn’t be surprised particularly to hear those come to further realization on subsequent releases, I’m not sure I’m willing to predict where the band will go and if they’ll bring the concrete-crunch tones that chug away in “Byting” with them. They could make five more records that sound just like this and be fine, but there’s growth from the single and the way their material functions throughout this initial collection lends the impression that they’re mindful of bringing variety to their songwriting — that they’re aware the songs they write can and do serve different purposes — which could be a big hint has to future direction and ambitions. Here, the production of Bismarck‘s Leif Herland brings out the physicality of White Tundra‘s crunch, representing their heft well for what will be a first impression for many who take them on. Wherever they may be headed stylistically, White Tundra is a debut worthy of the size of its own sound, and considering, that’s saying something.
Please enjoy “…Of the Earth” below, followed by a few words from the band, the preorder link, and so on:
White Tundra on “…Of the Earth”:
“…Of the Earth is the story of a new earth rising up in the aftermath of the old broken one. This is the second track on the album following the intro track Erwachen… (means “awakening” in German) which is a build-up to the rest of the album as well as …of the Earth. It was one of the first songs we wrote for the album and it kind of sets the tone for the rest of the album regarding to sound and songwriting with a bit more melodic riffs than we have produced before. This might be the most headbanging-friendly song on the album, and we are really happy with the groove on …of the Earth. The lyrics can be interpreted as either positive or pure doomsday prophecies depending on your mood.”
White Tundra has been around since 2018 with core members Ola Fuglevaag (drums) and Steven Kresin (vocals / guitar) as the creative driving forces behind White Tundra’s music. Despite some line up changes they have stayed true to their sound and continued writing and recording new music. The EP “Graveyard Blues” was released digitally in 2020 and on MC in 2021 and the 7” vinyl single “Honningfella” came out the same year. 2022 was spent recording their self titled debut album with new guitarist Christoffer Kjørsvik who also plays in Norwegian black metal band Sworn.
Produced by the band along with Leif Herland at Polyfon Studios, mastered by Rhys Marsh at Autumnsongs Recording Studio and featuring the artwork of Thomas Moe Ellefsrud from HypnotistDesign, “White Tundra” is set for release digitally and on vinyl on October 27th via All Good Clean Records.
Line-up: Steven Kresin: Vocals and guitar Christoffer Kjørsvik: Lead guitar (and bass guitar on the album) Ola Fuglevaag: Drums
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 11th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
It’s been a minute, but Norwegian trio White Tundra did a premiere here in 2021 for their single “Honningfella” and I recall digging it a lot. If you haven’t yet gotten on board with New Heavy Norway — acts like Slomosa, Dune Sea, Kryptograf, Kanaan, Bismarck (whose Leif Herland produced here), Saint Karloff, not to mention Black Moon Circle, SÂVER or Kal-El, the grandmasters Motorpsycho (not that they’re exactly ‘new’) or anyone else in the full musical spectrum of creativity taking place in the country as we speak, White Tundra right in it — I can only recommend doing so by whatever avenue you might choose to take to get there. It’s a vibrant underground, with scene pockets in Trondheim, Oslo, etc., and for the last several years it’s been churning out quality first and second records like they were lutefisk, and by the end of this decade, yeah, some of these acts will restructure, disband, and so on, but those that remain will be all the more strident.
Those are generalizations, if things I genuinely believe. To be more specific to White Tundra, the trio are getting set to release a self-titled LP at the end of this month through All Good Clean Records. It is, in fact, their debut, and the shove and semi-burl of “Third Floor” is the second single from it. Why didn’t I post the first? Because as I’ve been telling you for years now, I’m terrible at this. After you take a listen to the White Tundra track and maybe check out the other 10 Norwegian bands I just suggested, you should maybe think about taking your business elsewhere. Ha.
From the PR wire:
White Tundra – Norwegian Stoner Rock Trio Announce Self-Titled New Album
Release New Song “Third Floor”
October 27th through All Good Clean Records, the collective recently unveiled another song off the album through their Bandcamp page.
Produced by the band along with Leif Herland at Polyfon Studios, mastered by Rhys Marsh at Autumnsongs Recording Studio and featuring the artwork of Thomas Moe Ellefsrud from Hypnotist Design, “White Tundra” journeys through heavy atmospheric melodies, across the dusty tundra and through murky woods. Subtle pulses, inspired by black metal soundscapes White Tundra stays true to their earlier material’s orientation with accentuating pace and slow riffing. Pre-order the album and stream leading single Erwachen at this location.
White Tundra has been around since 2018 with core members Ola Fuglevaag (drums) and Steven Kresin (vocals / guitar) as the creative driving forces behind White Tundra’s music. Despite some line up changes they have stayed true to their sound and continued writing and recording new music. The EP “Graveyard Blues” was released digitally in 2020 and on MC in 2021 and the 7” vinyl single “Honningfella” came out the same year. 2022 was spent recording their self titled debut album with new guitarist Christoffer Kjørsvik who also plays in Norwegian black metal band Sworn.
Line-up: Steven Kresin: Vocals and guitar Christoffer Kjørsvik: Lead guitar (and bass guitar on the album) Ola Fuglevaag: Drums
