Posted in Whathaveyou on August 31st, 2026 by JJ Koczan
It’s been 11 years since Swedish classic heavy rockers Old Man’s Will made their debut with Hard Times – Troubled Man (review here), part of a Heavy ’10s surge of boogie blues riffery distinguished in songwriting and nod. The years since have brought changes to the band in terms of lineup, but the core mission as revealed with “Meet Me at Sundown,” the first single streaming from the aptly-titled new album, At Last, remains classy and fluid, vintage in intention more than production as it makes striking a difficult balance sound easy through sheer vitality of the performance.
“Meet Me at Sundown” is the opening cut of the record, which is out Oct. 9 through the multinational dreamteam consortium of Small Stone Records and Kozmik Artifactz, and it makes no bones about where it’s coming from either in terms of influence or scope. Tight in structure but loose in vibe, it once again rises to the challenge of standing the band out against a crowded underground.
The PR wire has details:
OLD MAN’S WILL: Swedish Rock Alchemists To Release At Last Full-Length October 9th Via Small Stone Recordings; New Track Streaming + Preorders Available
Swedish hard rock outfit OLD MAN’S WILL will release their At Last full-length October 9th via Small Stone Recordings.
Hailing from Umeå, OLD MAN’S WILL is known for their blues-infused sound and energetic live performances. The band channels the spirit of 1970s hard rock and blues rock acts like Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, and Humble Pie, with a retro twist. Their music is described as brash, bluesy, and riff-driven, with a mix of classic rock grooves and modern zest.
Indeed, real rock ‘n’ roll requires a little bit of mystique, a little bit of swagger, and a little bit of trouble for good measure. OLD MAN’S WILL possesses all three of those ingredients in spades. Leaving home for college back in 2011 first seemed a good reason to quit music and focus on school but instead it became the opposite for close friends Klas Holmgren (guitars), Gustav Kejving (drums), and Tommy Nilsson (bass), laying the foundation for OLD MAN’S WILL. With the addition of the unmistakable vocals of Benny Åbergs, the band was formed and went straight from the studio to touring Europe through something possibly best described as a Spinal Tap-like extravaganza. Fortunately, the situation straightened a bit down the line, and with mounting enthusiasm after having signed record deals in both Europe and later the US, things suddenly felt like they were “going to eleven” for some time. There was a regrettable turn of events however, beginning with the delayed release of their second album which resulted in cancelled tours and lost momentum. Meanwhile, life got in the way, followed by the pandemic, and suddenly reality hit the band in the face in that typical way only musicians may experience.
After struggling with finding a new path forward, new members Simon Lundin (drums) and Michael Åberg (bass) arrived with the ambition to hit the studio to record that third album. The new sound of OLD MAN’S WILL – more back to basics – had slowly been evolving and the spark was finally lit again following a set of memorable live performances, including opening for Graveyard. While still leaning on a heavily guitar-riff-driven basis, the love for creating strong melodies and songs echoes even more evidently in what has become OLD MAN’S WILL signature sound, now embodied in the long awaited third album, At Last.
At Last was recorded at Studio Spiff, Mullberget, Skellefteå, and Ultraljud Studios, engineered by Anthon Johansson, amplified by Sven Dahlquist, mixed by Frans Hägglund at Riddarborgen Studios, and Mastered by Magnus Lindberg at The Vilhelm Room, all in Stockholm, Sweden.
The record will be released on CD and digital formats as well LP in conjunction with Germany’s Kozmik Artifactz (180g vinyl, Ltd. 200 on White + Blue Splatter).
Posted in Reviews on August 14th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Well, I have just about a full week’s worth of news to catch up on, so we must be coming down to the end of the Quarterly Review. “Planets align. A king is born. Dodge Swinger.” Etc.
It’s been real, though. Again, I didn’t go one day without putting something in my notes for end-of-year list time, and that includes today as well. If you’ve come along for the ride on these 50 release, thank you. I hope you’ve found something new to listen to, or at least had your opinions of what you’ve already heard confirmed, which always feels good on some level. I will say it’s been a pleasure to dig into this stuff, and I don’t know who slates these things — that’s a joke, I do; there’s nobody else here; sometimes I feel like I need to say that even after 17 years because I’m both insecure and irrelevant — but they did alright on this one because at no point in this process was I like, “omg what is mah life,” and it’s always a relief to not get there.
Bottom line, as always, thanks for reading. I’ll be back with another of these in October, probably.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, The Disappearing Man
Word on the street — by that I mean their Linktree — is that Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol release their new single “Ca$h Grab” Aug. 18. That’s also the title-track of their next full-length, reportedly, but the low-string charmer Austin trio have been eeking out singles since Spring, and the resultant three-songer, The Disappearing Man, is a welcome keep-momentum interim outing for those who’ve been chasing the dragon of 2024’s Big Dumb Riffs (review here) and need something new for their reels-addled attention spans. All three tracks — “The Disappearing Man,” “Bough Down” and “Peaches” — are two minutes long but each gives a different look between the sneer of “Peaches,” the post-grunge heavy rock of “Bough Down” and the harder-hitting pummeling fuckery of the title cut. Is it a holdover? Yeah, probably. Will it even exist when the album comes out and likely features the same tracks? I don’t know. But it’s here now and the songs rule, so maybe get it while it’s there to get got and worry about the rest later, hmm?
The rock is by no means gone from Tidal Wave‘s sound on Volume Tree, but a shift has taken place as well since 2023’s The Lord Knows (review here) such that the first half of the new record seems to draw more from classic heavy metal than desert rock. On “The Orb,” “Hangman,” “Earth” and “Temple of Humanity,” that finds the Swedish foursome more in league with Dio-era Sabbath or Johan Langquist-fronted Candlemass, which is a compliment to vocalist Alexander “Sunkan” Sundqvist. The back half of the album, with “Sideburns,” “Shapeshifter,” “Manuscript 512” and “Skitliv,” complicates the narrative in the yachty experiment of the closer and the penultimate cut drawing the two sides together, but “Sideburns” and “Shapeshifter” have desert-style push, and the latter reminds particularly of late-1900s outfits like The Awesome Machine in its crunch and buzz. Either way they go, the songs hit their marks, so mark it a win for the complexity.
With six songs likewise furious and welcome, Richmond, Virginia’s Thunderchief are only right to name their latest EP after ways they might possibly kill you. The charred heavy thrash-doom of from the two-piece of guitarist/screamer Rik Surly and drum-pummeler Erik Larson does not shy away from the caustic, and whether it’s a roll like “Entrance of the Devil” or the gallop-over-your-head “Chintzy,” or the concluding noisefest in “Slurpee,” to which nine of the EP’s 23 minutes are dedicated, their penchant for aural slaughter shows itself in Surly‘s unflinching rasp, in Larson‘s corresponding pounding — looking at you, “Malaise” — and in the disaffected shove of “Lie Nation,” the band packing a full album’s worth of aggression into the abbreviated runtime. This is Thunderchief‘s wheelhouse, and hardly their first excursion into listener-abuse, but as impressive as the raw sustained ferocity is — not that the world doesn’t provide constant reasons to stay angry — it’s the fact that the material holds together and bears the weight they put to it that makes their approach so lethal. That’s on full and punishing display here.
A multinational collaboration between Peruvian psychheads Chino Burga and Pepe Abad (both veterans of La Ira de Dios) and Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (Øresund Space Collective and adjacent projects), Umma resonate psychedelic meditation across their four-song debut, Kosmovisionen, with layers of intersecting guitar drones, percussion, and synth. “Monts” sets the stage for the unfolding free/freak jazz of “Procesio,” and while “Aeparatio” feels grounded by comparison, its float of guitar remains transcendant ahead of the finale “Ogon,” which is a dream of experimentalist tone and cymbal wash. I don’t know how much of a band Umma are going to be, sending files back and forth between Peru and Portugal, but they tap into something spiritual here in just 35 minutes, and Kosmovisionen sounds more like the beginning of a broader exploration rather than a one-off collab. They create so much space, it’d be a shame if they didn’t grow and flesh out their arrangements accordingly.
Intended as a 7″ complement to the DHU Records vinyl pressing of Rifle‘s 2025 album, Beyond Paranoia, this two-songer plays out for 11 minutes across “Incarnation” and “Twisted Death,” vibing like rote jams with mellow vocals overtop like Endless Boogie or something like that, with an unpredictable edge and underlying tension. Apparently there were lineup issues? I’m not sure on the story, but the resultant vibe is off-kilter in a fascinating way — it’s not necessarily holding back the songs, I mean — and the low-key chaos they capture in the recordings, with mad swirls of guitar behind the mostly-whisper vocals, builds on what the album was doing in pieces like “Beyond Paranoia” and “Gipsy Spell” while feeling less tethered to a classic-heavy/vintage songwriting methodology. That may be indicative of a future direction, or these may just be leftovers from the album sessions, I don’t know, but it’s weird and dug in and sounds like it doesn’t care in the slightest how you classify it.
This year has brought new productivity from Boston experimentalists Brass Hearse, who’ve released three singles in 2026 in addition to this 17-track/51-minute ambient film soundtrack; their first new offerings in six years. The penultimate “Destroyer of the Breach” runs nearly nine minutes, but most of Can’t Get No — titled after the movie — is made up of shorter pieces one to three minutes long, with drones and guitar, keys and various washes of tone, some cogent progressions, some purposefully not, evoking a feeling of loneliness and foreboding. Presumably the title is a Rolling Stones reference — “Drifting Through the Void” might build on the song in question as well, though I might be imagining it — and I haven’t seen the movie, but from what I read it’s shorter than the soundtrack, so yes, that would be emblematic of the new creative delve on the part of the Boston band. On its own, the album makes for a meditative, atmospheric listen but don’t take that to mean Brass Hearse lack dynamic or are doing the same thing all the time. They just happen to be really effective in conjuring a world.
Tucked away in the northeast of Sweden, the Umeå-based three-piece Svindel strike an immediately classic impression on their Ripple-issued debut album, Drömfeber, channeling boogie rock’s sense of motion and, in the title-track and elsewhere, calling to mind psychedelic reach without actually veering too far from the underlying structures of their material. Somebody’s playing organ on opener “Jupiterbarn,” and I’d swear I hear keyboards elsewhere too, but none among guitarist/vocalist Jan Lindblad, bassist Daniel Forsberg and drummer/backing vocalist Johannes Braf is credited with the contribution, so maybe I’m the one in a fever dream. In any case, as “Tunga Ögon” hints toward blues and “Ta Mig Tillbaka Till Världen Nu” embarks in the direction of pastoralia, the stylistic book hardly seems closed in terms of how Svindel might progress, but the fact that they are able to cover this swath without sacrificing cohesive songwriting makes their debut impressive even for someone like me who speaks not a lick of Swedish.
The abrasive sludge excoriation of Dirtmother Live makes a fitting companion-piece for the Fayetteville, Arkansas, local-legend/cryptid outfit’s 19-years-later 2025 self-titled debut (review here), presenting five songs across a rasping, willfully confrontational half-hour set captured from the board at the American Legion Hall in their hometown in true punker fashion, and let’s say probably mixed thereafter. In this material — most of which comes from the record; “Reversal” seems to be “Reverse Cowgirl” under a different name and “Cult of Suzie Everett” does not appear on the studio LP — the nodding fuzz and the impact-density of their low end comes though in full-punch glory, stage banter is preserved, and “Trucker” is even nastier in its bite than it already was, which should be read as a high compliment to the achievement. If you don’t come out of this wanting to start a sludge band, consult a physician.
Italy’s Hijss return after 2024’s Stuck on Common Ground (review here) with a self-titled eight-song/39-minute LP that’s an even deeper dive into krautisms and cosmic heavy rock, volatile in “Vicious Cycle” and “Parasite,” daring to soothe before they walk into the wash of “S.W.A.N.” and getting full-on electro-dance-mode in the penultimate “Fatal Attraction” before the moody distortion swell of “Outro” rounds out. Opener and longest track (immediate points) “Drain of Thoughts” establishes precedent in the motorik-roll-turned-heavy-shove progression, but the ultimate product of the album is that Hijss have gotten weirder and more individualized in the last two years, they’re ready to tour with labelmates Giöbia like yesterday, and the experimentalism in bringing together acoustics and synthesized textures of “Underwater” and the throb/fuzz banger “Dopamine” present a fresher take than I’ve yet seen the band credited for honing.
Deley Sound System is the techno alter-ego of Budapesti psychedelic improvisationalist Deley, and if you’re feeling particularly adventurous, their earlier-2026 live recording Unsync 001 captures them bringing their spontaneity-fueled creative process to a style of music that, considering it’s programmed, is often classified as more staid. Psychedelia persists across genre here as the band weave together samples and different layers to carve an affect that’s all the more immersive and hypnotic not in spite of the steady beat that might underpin a track like “Sun 001” or the 18-minute “BBM 001” but rather because of it. The dub techno and synthesizer aspects, playing off influences from jams and generally more guitar-led (or -inclusive at all, for that matter) fare, are fascinating academically, but it’s satisfying as well to hear a band so willing to step beyond their comfort zone and a crucial reminder that the boundaries of creativity are far more imaginary than the sitar sounds on “Sun 002” and that the most dangerous thing to any status quo is a mind brave enough to look beyond it as these minds do here.
Swedish doomcrunchers Skogskult release their self-titled debut full-length tomorrow, Dec. 5, through Bonebag Records. Based in Umeå, the four-piece of vocalist Simon Rosengrim, guitarist Samuel Nordström, bassist Albin Kroon and drummer Alexander Söderlund emerge with tectonic purpose and a bite to their approach that feels culled from sludge, but at a certain point, these lines begin to blur, and nine-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “Lyktans Låga” is well on the other side of that imaginary mark, beginning with a low brooding quiet intro that cymbal washes into the first full-tone slam. It’s like their music is a sledgehammer and they’re rearing back over their shoulder to swing it again with each new measure.
It’s not post-metal because it’s not hyper-cerebral feeling. That is, when the grueling nod that develops in “Lyktans Låga” shifts into a softer stretch — a volume trade well familiar to post-metallic types — before its massive, slow-rolling payoff, it doesn’t feel contrived. Certainly Skogskult have put thought into the structure, but the impression is still raw in tone and vocals, and the brutal groove is the first of many. “Turs” picks up the pace with a doomly swing and a piped-in-from-the-dark-ether harsher verse, and also has a break later, a comedown with melody that reminds of Monolord without actually sounding like them, and that holds over for a while until the long last scream. The transition to “Jag Ger Mig Av” is direct and lets the standalone bass rumble come into focus for 30 seconds before the inward sweep arrives, another shout included for good measure. Less of a shove than the song before, “Jag Ger Mig Av” makes its impression in the spaciousness of its roll, and on a record without a centerpiece, it feels like one anyway as the band dutifully chugs toward another stirring culmination, this one capping side A and every bit worthy of its placement.
“Pakten” introduces a shuffle where one is needed. It’s the shortest inclusion on Skogskult by mere seconds at six minutes flat, but it feels like a turn from the first three songs just the same, and adds to the palette the band are working with generally. There is no quiet break and loud return, and while consistent in tone, the band bring forth a boogie that proves refreshing. This sets up the melodic triumph of “Sol,” which works its way forward at a slow crawl through a moodier ambience early on, beginning a single linear build that spreads out over the 7:53, less crushing than anything among side A’s heaviest moments, but branching out and showcasing a diversity of intent in their songwriting — something that obviously bodes well for a band getting their feet under them and exploring who they want to be as Skogskult are here — and redirecting structure only make for a richer listening experience on the whole. They close with “Snöblind,” the intro to which is probably the source of the Sleep comparison the PR wire makes below, and accordingly is nothing to complain about.
It’s somewhat expected that Skogskult would finish huge, returning to the largesse of side A and tying the entire release together, but there’s still more melody in “Snöblind” (and no, it’s not a cover). Rosengrim takes advantage of the space in the riff to evoke a bit of soul, and the lumber that ensues is engrossing in classic stonerly fashion. They break and return, underscoring the point. Already by then, however, the context of the album as a whole has expanded because of the purposeful work on the band’s part to make it do so, and instead of feeling repetitive, “Snöblind” ties together both sides of Skogskult‘s Skogskult, fostering melodic outreach as well as barebones distorted roll. What I like best about it is it sets its own patterns and shows the band have something to say in terms of songwriting, which comes through despite the notable (so here’s me noting it) language deficit on my part.
But it’s a deficit and not a barrier and that’s a distinction worth making. I’m sure this is a far wimpier analogy than the band would find appropriate, but there’s kind of a seed-planting sense throughout Skogskult, and one hopes the years to come will indeed bring a garden’s flourishing therefrom, but the nascence aspects of this first full-length — inarguably among the most crucial statements a band can make — make it more exciting as a prospect for what might follow. In the meantime, all killer.
The album streams in its entirety on the player below. Please enjoy.
Taking cues from classic doom bands like Sleep, Acid King, and Electric Wizard, as well as contemporary acts like Monolord and Telekinetic Yeti, Bonebag Records is thrilled to announce the debut album from rising stars, Skogskult.
Formed in 2022 in Umeå and featuring members of underground bands Från Mars, Scitalis, and Never Recover, the Swedish doom quartet marked their path toward the album with new single “Turs.” Produced by Cavern Deep and Bonebag Record’s own Max Malmer, ‘Turs’ is the second of three singles – following ‘Pakten’ earlier this year – that delve deep into Nordic mythology and arcane mystery. The track tells the story of beings rising from their slumber, bringing destruction as forests fall and mountains bleed. With Swedish lyrics and heavy, fuzz-driven guitars, ‘Turs’ continues to build the atmosphere that defines Skogskult’s sound.
Drawing on imagery of Skinwalkers, Norse burial rituals, and occult gatherings, Skogskult channels the dark traditions of doom and stoner rock into a fuzz-filled vision of darker days to come.
“I had the fortune of catching one of their first shows and signing them on the spot,” explains Malmer. “It was so great to see that there were young, local musicians getting into the stoner doom genre. Since discovering them we’ve produced an entire album together. Hopefully this new single will give everyone a sense of what they’re all about.”
Skogskult’s self-titled debut will be released on 5th December 2025 via Bonebag Records.
Tracklisting: 1. Lyktans Låga 2. Turs 3. Jag Ger Mig Av 4. Pakten 5. Sol 6. Snöblind
Skogskult: Samuel Nordström – Guitar Albin Kroon – Bass Simon Rosengrim – Vocals Alexander Söderlund – Drums
Posted in Reviews on November 19th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I was gonna do this whole week, happy Monday, happy Tuesday, happy Wednesday, but I happen to feel like an asshole typing the words “happy Wednesday,” so I’m going to refrain. Hope your week isn’t awful, in any case.
Or if it is, I hope music can help make it better. This Quarterly Review has been a breeze thus far and looking at the lineup for today I expect the trend to continue. Thanks for hanging in with it. We pass the halfway mark today and will wrap up on Friday, with 50 releases covered throughout the week.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Amorphis, Borderland
Yeah, okay, you can go ahead and cancel the rest of the review. Yup, I know. I’d love to sit here and talk about how Finland’s Amorphis, some 35 years and upwards of 16 full-lengths later, are still refining their processes, conjuring melodic intricacy, and celebrating death metal in kind. I’d love to talk about the progressive strains in Borderland, or about how as recognizable as Amorphis are, they’re still able to find new ways to balance the keys and guitar, or to switch up the vocals, or even just to chug proggier on “Light and Shadow” and “Fog to Fod,” whatever it might be. I’d love to talk about all of that, but you see, the thing is… “Bones.” Specifically, the riff thereof, swept into with crushing majesty and rolled forth with knows-what-it-has certainty of the type one would expect from a long-established pro-shop genre-innovating band like Amorphis. I could go on about all the other stuff, but that riff is gonna be all you need to know ahead of time. I’ll hope to have it in my head for the next year or so.
One could spend the rest of this space recounting Joe Hasselvander‘s pedigree, from Death Row to Pentagram to Raven to The Hounds of Haseelvander, with stints in countless others including Blue Cheer besides, but that doesn’t tell you much about the doom of Fire on the Mountain. Hasselvander‘s third solo outing under his name and first in 25 years follows a traditional pattern of Doom Capitol blue-collar riffing that, it has to be acknowledged, Hasselvander had a part in establishing, while the man himself plays all instruments and handles vocals, at time with a bit of a lounge-singer edge with spoken lines, but when he reaches for the higher note in third cut “Holy Water,” a big moment in the song, it’s there for him. “Prodigal Sun” is one of several images taken from the bible and would seem to be autobiographical, and he ends with a fitting apex of nod and shred in “Darkest Before the Dawn.” He’s said he has plans for more, and indeed, Fire on the Mountain sounds more like a beginning than an end.
A current of crackling, tube-heating distortion begins in “Spine,” which introduces Kariti‘s third album, Still Life, and indeed even amid the The Keening-esque piano of “Nothing” and the title-track a short time later, that hard-toned drone becomes a backbone for the material. It’s not always there — arrangements are fluid around the central guitar/keys/voice — but for an artist working in a style so intentionally mindful of aesthetic, the My Bloody Valentine-esque noise swell of “Suicide by a Thousand Cuts,” the emergence of the static in “Naiznanku” and the rumble behind the closing prayer “Baptism” bring dark avant garde experimentalism to traditionalist melodies. This is what Kariti has been developing since 2020’s Covered Mirrors (review here), working with guitarist Marco Matta on a deepening collaboration. While retaining folkish intimacy thanks to the quiet stretches around this distorted crunch (looking at you, “Purge”), Kariti has never sounded farther-reaching.
They don’t make ’em like Burning Sister anymore, and listening to Ghosts, I’m less sure they ever did. Because as much as the Colorado now-twosome of bassist/vocalist/synthesist Steve Miller and drummer Alison Salutz continue to foster a druggy ’90s-type slackerism amid all the crash in opener “Brokedick Icarus” and the drawling march of “No Space or Time,” they’ve also never quite sounded as much themselves. There’s psychedelic shimmer in the noise swirling in the later reaches of “Stellar Ghost,” and “Lethe//Oblivion” (premiered here) is made all the more a ceremony with the thread of synth and/or amplifier hum. Meanwhile, “Swerve (Dead Stars)” would work as a new wave arrangement, I can feel it, and the longest-song-by-a-second “Dead Love” (7:20) closes with a thrilling roll and languid procession, reinforcing the downerism that’s been essential to Burning Sister since their outset. Whatever comes in the future, being a duo suits these songs.
A quick turnaround third full-length from London’s The Lunar Effect will be nothing to complain about for those who (like me) got on board with the London heavy rock outfit via last year’s Sounds of Green and Blue (review here). Also on Svart, the follow-up brims with cohesion in its songwriting and purpose in its twists, with the opener “Feed the Hand” establishing the command that proves unwavering through “Watchful Eye,” the brash speed-shuffler “Five and Two” and the lonely sway of “My Blue Veins” before “Stay With Me” modernizes Graveyardian soul en route to the grunge-riffed centerpiece “Settle Down.” The dynamic continues to expand with the piano-led “I Disappear” speaking to a burgeoning reach in songwriting, while “A New Moon Rises” regrounds and “Scotoma” smoothly finds a niche in desert rock that probably hundreds of bands wish they could make their own, and “Nailed to the Sky” rounds out by going big on tone and emotionality alike. So far, these guys are a better band than people know. They inject a little drama to these proceedings, and it sounds like there’s more to come.
While the closing title-track has a thread of prog metal that reminds of mid-period Devin Townsend, Auckland, New Zealand’s King Cruel back their 2023 Creeper three-song EP with a marked sense of atmosphere, the melodies of careening lead track “Haunting Time” calling to mind Boston’s Worshipper in their metallic underpinnings, shred and thoughtful melody. Sky Eater is my first exposure to the band, whose style balances mood and impact smoothly, and whose hooks are inviting without being cloying, as in “Diamond Darya,” which digs in and rides its central riff with a stoner rocker’s dedication and a poise that comes from knowing why they’re doing it. The aforementioned capper is the catchiest of the bunch, but King Cruel, goal-wise, have more in their sights than catchiness, and given the sprawl they lay out here, one can’t help but wonder if a debut album won’t be next.
I won’t claim to know how it was made, between what’s improvised, layered in, overdubbed, conjured from ethereal planes beyond the limits of understanding, and so on, but Angad Berar‘s eight-track/50-minute Sundae is indeed a sweet dish of psychedelic immersion. The Berlin-based solo artist made it in collaboration with guitarist/synthesist/bassist Kartik Pillai, while drummer Siddharth Kaushik sits in on the 10-minute penultimate cut and vocalist Chrisrah guests on the only song that isn’t a numbered jam, the moody mellow liquefier “Driving With You” before “Jam #3” and the horn sounds of “Jam #4” re-immerse the listener in slow-churning fluidity. “Jam #6,” with the live drums and extended runtime, is pointedly hypnotic in its first half, but has some Endless Boogie-type rock angularity later that makes it fun, while the closing “Jam #7” offers a seven-minute drone meditation before handing the listener back over to reality. Serenity abounds if you know where to find it.
Trevor’s Head, Fall Toward the Sun // Majesty and Harmony
Admirably celebrating their 15th anniversary in 2025 with touring and new music, UK melodic heavy rockers Trevor’s Head bring the Abbey Road-recorded “Fall Toward the Sun” and “Majesty and Harmony” together, not quite to encapsulate their sound or everything they’ve accomplished in their time, but to typify the ethic of marking the occasion by doing the thing itself; that is, they’re writing music because it’s what they love to do. “Fall Toward the Sun” and “Majesty and Harmony” both have an edge of aired-out ’90s-type noise rock — nothing new for Trevor’s Head in terms of style — but where they hit you with it up front in the first song, the latter holds its payoff in reserve for when they depart the titular harmonies and get to the surge of crunch in the midsection. Running seven minutes total, you wouldn’t accuse Trevor’s Head of overindulging, but instead, they give their fans and followers something new to dig into that in ethic and realization can only serve as a reminder of their appeal in the first place.
Burl, crunch, lumber, crush, groove and sprawl — the Rob Wrong (Witch Mountain)-recorded debut full-length from Portland, Oregon, riffchucking five-piece Ravine knows from whence it hails. There are some flashes of cosmic intention, but sludgier, earthbound nods pervade the five-track/47-minute outing, which holds its ambition not in a performative stylistic overreach — that is to say, Ravine are who they are musically; there’s no pretense here as they hit you with it straight forward — but in the course each of these tracks takes. Their heaviest onslaught might be in the willfully, almost gleefully grueling “Ennui,” of course the centerpiece, but even there Ravine aren’t content just to doom, or rock, or sludge out, etc., instead working to create a sense of momentum within the songs as each follows its own path, marking out its own place while adding to the whole. They’re not done growing, and I don’t think the balance of their approach is settled, but given what they already lay out, that’s a strength in their favor. This is the kind of debut that makes friends.
Sweden’s Malgomaj aren’t through the opening title-track (a bookending two-parter) of Valfiskens Buk before they’ve put forth primo hard boogie and inventive Sabbathry, classic in influence, modern in production/execution, and continuing to brim with movement as “Rembrants Skugga” and the softshow-ready “Hej Hej Malgomaj” back it. I suppose the elephant in the room here is Graveyard, but “Värddjur” has more Motörheaded foundations, and the instrumental “Itera Mot Solnedgången” hints toward Westernism before the seven-minute “Cyklopisk Betong” flattens with its early riff only to redirect to ’60s-ish garage jangle, so one wouldn’t accuse Malgomaj on this apparent debut of being singleminded, but neither are they lacking cohesion or flow between songs. “Stöttingfjället Rämnar” answers the heft of the track prior and “Det Är Nåt Fel På Solen” sets a languid march before “Valfiskens Buk Del 2” reprises the opener to make the album sound all the more complete, whether you speak the language or not.
Swedish heavy psychedelic/progressive rockers Maha Sohona will release their third album, A Dark Place, next week (Nov. 21) as their first offering through Bonebag Records and the awaited follow-up to 2021’s Endless Searcher (review here). That album was the band’s first since a 2014 self-titled debut and was well-received across the international heavy underground for its depth of tone and melodic, heavy psych-style warmth. A Dark Place, then, represents the quickest turnaround to-date from the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Johan Bernhardtson, bassist Thomas Hedlund and drummer Erik Andersson, in addition to being a moment of arrival stylistically and in terms of the songs themselves. It is both the clearest and least reliant on effects they’ve yet sounded, and the most confident they’ve yet been in their stylistic purpose. The opening track, “Liquid Motion Medicine,” premieres below.
In representing A Dark Place, it offers sprawl, and Maha Sohona aren’t shy about filling the reaches they create. This happens in the shifting tempos and lumber of the opener, and most starkly perhaps in the closing pair of “Ostera” and the 10-and-a-half-minute finale “The Long Way Home,” which emphasize direct, effective loud/quiet tradeoffs rather than gradual and linear builds. What you get is that “Ostera” broods and explores a subdued, repetitive march with flourish here and there until at 4:35 someone throws Erik Andersson‘s drums down the stairs and Johan Bernhardtson‘s guitar and Thomas Hedlund‘s bass abandon their intimate exploration for full tonal and spacious nod. The progression there is most post-metallic, more martial somehow, and more doomed than in “The Long Way Home,” but pull itself back down to finish quietly ahead of the closer’s own procession.
Bernhardtson‘s vocals are more of a focal point (yes, to answer your question, I did originally type “vocal point” there; thanks for reading) for the recording certainly than they were in Endless Searcher, such that as they make their way into “The Long Way Home” — home is where the Heavy is, as my grandmother always said — the verses engage with emotion and melody, are able to turn with the mood and Alice in Chains lean in the guitar circa four minutes in, but still well away from the actual takeoff. Like much of A Dark Place, “The Long Way Home” feels born of a jam, and I’m not going to say it’s not without its element of meander, but that makes it all the more sweeping when at 7:44 the guitar clicks into the heavier nod that pays the song off, slower than “Ostera” before, still committed to melody, and cognizant of structure in the bookending quiet stretch that caps the album.
But in many situations, it’s languidity that holds sway, and that’s true of second cut “Visions,” as well as the stays-quiet, almost pop-ish “Uddh” that closes side A, the shortest inclusion by far at four minutes. Different songs working toward different goals, united in tone and intermittently cosmic bent. But there’s a plan at work throughout A Dark Place, and “Uddh” remains immersive in its alt-rock wander, and in starting side B, “Voyagers” is no less rich melodically on its way to one of the record’s heaviest stretches. In this way, Maha Sohona bring ambience into the core of their purpose, since no matter what a given song is doing at the time, they don’t depart from the sense of digging in. “Liquid Motion Medicine,” almost industrial-sounding in its midsection crunch (but for the soaring vocals), is vibrant in its heft, given presence through the dry vocal treatment, and they’ve never sounded heavier or more progressive than they do on the album that follows.
A crucial third album that very clearly has learned lessons from its predecessors, A Dark Place feels like the work of a band who’ve formed an idea of who they are musically, and it brings that to life with the promise of continued growth to come. We as listeners should be so lucky.
“Liquid Motion Medicine” premieres below. Thanks for reading and thanks to the band for letting me host the song.
Maha Sohona, “Liquid Motion Medicine” track premiere
Across six immersive tracks, A Dark Place channels northern melancholy, desert heaviness, and celestial calm into a sonic journey that will resonate with fans of Elder, Tool, and Alice In Chains. The record finds Maha Sohona expanding their signature blend of stoner, space rock, and heavy psych into bold new territories, merging crushing riffs with hypnotic grooves and vast melodic horizons.
From the northern lights of Umeå, Sweden, Maha Sohona crafts heavy, organic rock laced with psychedelic undertones and cinematic depth and ‘Liquid Motion Medicine’ encapsulates this evolution. A track both weighty and refined, drenched in cosmic atmosphere and guided by haunting clarity. It marks a new chapter for the Umeå-based trio, whose sound continues to bridge the earthly and the otherworldly.
Known for their dynamic live performances and atmospheric soundscapes, the trio blurs the line between fuzz-driven power and meditative calm. Originally formed in 2012, their self-titled debut was released in 2014 (Nasoni Records) and quietly helped them build a global cult following – particularly following the release of the song ‘Asteroids’, which to date has amassed over half a million Spotify streams.
After a seven-year hiatus, they resurfaced in 2021 with Endless Searcher (Made Of Stone Recordings), which was celebrated for its melodic depth and expansive scope. Since then, the band has completed two European tours, a Greek tour, and made appearances at major festivals including Krökbacken (Sweden) and DesertFest (London).
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 17th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I’ve been looking forward to the announcement of the next Maha Sohona LP for a bit, as the band have been dropping hints toward its release throughout much of this year, and last week, they put out word of signing with fellow Swedes Bonebag Records to put it out. Nov. 21 is the release date for A Dark Place, which will be the heavy psych trio’s righteous 2021 LP, Endless Searcher (review here), and the first single from it is called “Visions.” You’ll find its nine-and-a-half-minute sprawl at the bottom of this post, and it just might be enough to make your day better. If you’re waiting for the heavy part, stick around, it’s coming.
The good news here is that you only have to wait like a month for A Dark Place to come out. The bad news is that’s still a month away. I’ll hope to have more to come on the record before we get there, but there’s the announcement and the song, from socials and Bandcamp:
Umeå, Sweden’s Maha Sohona returns with A Dark Place, a hypnotic journey where heavy, organic riffs collide with airy, cinematic melodies. Released via Bonebag Records, the album captures a live-in-the-room energy—warm, dynamic, and deeply human. Lyrically and thematically, A Dark Place explores solitude, cycles of darkness and light, and the pull between earthly weight and cosmic escape. Standout tracks “Visions”, “Ostera”, and “The Long Way Home” showcase the band’s range, from cathedral-sized fuzz walls to slow-burning, instrumental passages.
We are very proud to present ”Visions”, the first single of the upcoming album A Dark Place due for release the 21st of November.
Pre-orders are also open for A Dark Place, there’s 2 vinyl variants to choose from. The Bubble Vision Edition and the Marble Voyager Edition. Hurry up, they are going very fast.
A Dark Place 1. Liquid Motion Medicine 2. Visions 3. Uddh 4. Voyagers 5. Ostera 6. The Long Way Home
Maha Sohona: Guitar, Vocals: Johan Bernhardtson Bass: Thomas Hedlund Drums: Erik Andersson
Posted in Reviews on October 6th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Day two. Normally this is time for hubristic gibberish about how easy the QR will be, the overconfidence of one whose trees rarely appear as forests. But we persist anyhow, and today looks pretty good from where I’m sitting now, so despite the ‘Day 2 on a Monday’ weirdness, which I’m pretty sure makes no one other than myself even raise an eyebrow, things are rolling and one hopes will continue to be fluid. I wouldn’t say Day 1 came together easily, since it took me like two and a half days to get done, but neither was out unpleasant. Hoping for more of the same here, plus efficiency.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Queens of the Stone Age, Alive in the Catacombs
Something of an identity crisis in Queens of the Stone Age perhaps that sees the long-running highest commercial export of desert rock shift from the cloying pop of their last two albums to a comparatively stripped down live recording in — you guessed it — catacombs, where apparently the acoustics are pretty sweet. Anybody remember when Tenacious D went into ‘the cave’ on the Tribute EP? No? Didn’t think so. Frontman Josh Homme, who carries the minimal arrangements on vocals largely with ease, and his ever-ace band filmed the whole thing; it’s all sepia, all very artsy, and they do “Kalopsia” and dip back 20 years to finish with “I Never Came” after “Suture Up Your Future,” which is the second inclusion by then from 2007’s Era Vulgaris. All told it’s five songs and 27 minutes, and whether you hear it as a cringe hyperindulgence of unaware self-parody or as an expression of human artistry in organic form surrounded by memento mori probably depends on how deep you run with the band. But they’re not hurting anybody either way.
Between recording and then remixing/remastering their 2021 debut Primeval Transmissions (review here) and signing to Argonauta Records, Portland meditative duo Breath, comprised of Ian Caton and Steven O’Kelly, expanded the lineup with Lauren Hatch on keys and their second album, Brahman, brings Rob Wrong (Witch Mountain) into the fold on guitar as well as helming the recording. The sense across the eight songs/42 minutes is still of exploring the reaches of consciousness, very post-Om in the foundational basslines and dry vocals, but having Wrong rip out a solo in each break of “Awen” sure doesn’t hurt, and hearing the full band come together around the culmination of “Hy-Brasil,” keys, guitar, bass, drums all-in tonally, is emblematic of their expanding horizons. As for those, “Sages” pushes toward its own vision of psych rock in conversation with the opener, and “Cedars of Lebanon” demonstrates malleability and balance that one hopes portend more to come as the band continues to grow and gel.
Johan Langquist The Castle, Johan Langquist The Castle
Kind of an awkward moniker grammatically for the solo-band fronted by original/once-again/maybe-erstwhile Candlemass vocalist Johan Langquist. Is it possessive? Is he The Castle? I don’t quite understand, but from the operatic complement of Emelie Lindquist‘s backing vocals on opener “Eye of Death” through the litany of compiled singles Johan Langquist The Castle dropped over the course of 2024, there’s no mistaking the classic nature of the doom. “Castle of My Dreams” flows keyboardier on balance, while “Where Are the Heroes” gives riffers shelter in its chug, while “Raw Energy” and “Revolution” toy with the balance between the two sides, with “Freedom” as a classic-metal epic and “Bird of Sadness” as the comedown epilogue. Langquist, absent decades between fronting the first Candlemass LP in 1986 and rejoining the band circa 2011, would seem to be making up for lost time, and the ideas he’s exploring here warrant the investigation. I’m curious where this leads, which I think I’m supposed to be, so right on.
From Joshua Tree, California, Maliciouz is the solo-outfit of Michael Muckow, who handles guitar, bass and drums for the molasses-thick instrumentalist proceedings. Tortoise arrives beating you over the head with its tone and metaphor alike; eight songs and 58 minutes of lumbering density wrought with dug-in purpose, harnessing heaviness-of-place as riffs and often melancholic drone metal crash. It’s an art project, but without pretense of being anything other than it is, and Muckow — who makes a point of noting his age (67) in the press material — composes for flow and immersion as each slow march gives way to the next, culminating in the semi-acoustic “The End,” which is no less on-the-nose than calling the album Tortoise to start with. No grand reflections, no sweeping statement. Tortoise lets the riffs do the talking and they say plenty about the grit and expanse Muckow is trying to conjure. Be careful out there. He makes it easy to get lost.
The former co-guitarist/vocalist of Neurosis has come a long way since his guy-and-guitar beginnings as a solo artist, and Alone in a World of Wounds reaps the textural fruit of Steve Von Till‘s willful artistic progression in a piece like the leadoff “The Corpse Road” or “Distance,” which caps side A fluidly with the only use of drums on the record, reminiscent of The Keening‘s awareness of sonic weight and atmospheric sidestep. The cello, synth and field recordings build out what would be minimalist arrangements without them and remain early-morning quiet, the piano on the spoken-word-topped “The Dawning of the Day (Insomnia)” and flirtations with lushness on “Horizons Undone” softly shaping the album’s world with the electronics of “Old Bent Pine” ahead of the guitar-based “River of No Return,” which closes with what feels like an updated take on Von Till‘s earlier woodsfolk craft, reminding that ‘heavy’ is just as much existential as it is aural.
Solitude Over Control is as much a confrontation as an album, and that’s very clearly the intention behind Glasgow’s Mrs Frighthouse for their Lay Bare-issued debut LP, Solitude Over Control. Its 11 songs foster a bleak gamut of industrial sounds, portraying dark and inflicted sexual violence as part of the band’s expression. Slaying rapists, then, and fair enough. Intertwining layers of vocals and experimentalist pieces like “Seagulls (Part 1)” give an avant-garde air to the crush of “DIY Exorcism” and the lurching, abrasive finish of “White Plaster Roses,” soprano vocals and electronic noise externalizing the unsettled in a way that can only really be thought of as ‘extreme’ in a musical sense. “My body has never been mine,” confess the lyrics of “Our Culture Without Autonomy” with horror-style keyboard behind them; there’s a show being put on here, but it’s visceral just the same, and the later “My Body is a Crime Scene” turns the accusation direct: “My body is a crime scene/He did this to me/My body is a crime scene/You did this to me” in a moment that lands powerfully unless you’re a fucking sociopath.
A joint release between Majestic Mountain and Copper Feast Records, Eroded Forms/Inertia presents as a double-EP split release between Melbourne, Australia, melodic heavy post-metallic rockers Droid, who dare toward aggression on “Reverence” and the sludgier shouts of “Ruin” after leading off with “Khaki” without giving away the plot such that the blastbeats of “Resonance” still hit as a surprise, and Sweden’s I Am Low, who answer the fullness of tone with careening on “Sweet M16” before the grunge melody of “Greed” makes that song a highlight, “Waves” flows with less emotional baggage and a subtle hook, and “Inertia” wraps as a landing point with duly vibrant crash. Grunge and a hairy kind of fuzz are shared between the bands, but each has their own purpose. I don’t know if it’s a release of convenience to make it a split, but it makes for an engaging showcase, and if you’ve never come across either of them, the best arguments for digging in are right there in the songs.
Portland five-piece doomly flamekeepers Tar Pit begin their second full-length (on Transylvanian) with the 10-minute three-parter “Dagon, Dark Lord Dwelling Beneath,” the longest inclusion (immediate points) at 10:15 and bookended with the title-cut at the record’s end. Between, from the more rocking aspects of “Coven Vespers” to the downtrodden roll of “Blessed King of Longing,” the five-piece remind of doom at the turn of the century, when ‘traditionalism’ in doom metal was something of a defiance against modernity instead of an aesthetic unto itself. More than 20 years, The Gates of Slumber, Reverend Bizarre, and what was then the Church of True Doom would seem to have evolved into Tar Pit‘s Eldritch Doom Syndicate, and that’s nothing to complain about as “Blue Light Cemetery” accounts for Candlemass and Cathedral after the dim-blues of “Jubilee” secures the band’s place in the heavy morose. If you were just getting into doom, this kind of thing might make you want to start a band, and yes, that’s a compliment.
Dirt-coated riffing leads the way on GRGL‘s Horror-Bloated Ouroboros six-song EP, as Jake‘s guitar, Hal‘s bass and Nick‘s drumming in the first-names-only Salt Lake City trio align around a chug in the opening “Horror-Bloated Ouroboros (An Overview),” that, despite the dry-throated barks that top it, remains among the more accessible moments of the churning sludge-doom outfit’s 23-minute outing. To wit, “Born Again” and the even more gurgley (hey wait a minute!) “My Skeleton” takes roughly the same elemental formula and slows it the frick down, thereby becoming immediately more tortured. The overarching impression is unipolar — raw, heavy, miserable — and the vocals are part of that, but the dynamic between those first two songs is answered for in the uptick of pace that arrives with “My Pie Hole” and the angularity of the shorter instrumental “Absorption/Secretion,” while the plodding reprise “Born Again (Again)” closes so as to make sure everybody ultimately gets where they need to be, i.e., hammered into the ground. Eat dust shit sludge. Hard to get away from thinking of this as the true sound of our times. Maybe it’s the title.
It’s a clear and classic style across Grusom‘s aptly-titled third album, III, which arrives some seven years after they were last heard from with 2018’s II (review here), the band who’ve become a low-key staple of the Kozmik Artifactz roster demonstrating in no uncertain terms what’s gotten them there. Vintage-heavy heads will find plenty to dig in the organ-laced flow of “Shadow Crawler,” “Hell Maker,” the later “Fatal Romance” and the more open finale “Mortal Desire,” and while “Le Voyage” has many of the same aspects at work, it shows the Danish six-piece as flexible enough in their approach to convey a range of emotions, ditto the wistful Graveyard-y “Memories” and the interlude “Euphoria,” making sure that among the places III might take a given listener, there’s nothing to remove them from the procession carried along by the band.
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 1st, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Especially at the outset, the new single “Turs” from Swedish four-piece Skogskult gives a markedly sludgier impression than the rocking “Pakten,” a video for which premiered here back in February. Not a thing to hold against the band — having range, that is — but the slower tempo, air of disaffection and shift between screams and cleaner vocals are something of a departure from the uptempo shove of the earlier track. Oh no, a band doing more than one thing with riffs! Who will save us now?
If you said nobody, you got it. At the bottom of this post, you’ll find both videos for your perusal, with the newer one (that’s “Turs”; keep up) an out-in-the-woods chugger that ends like Blair Witch Project, highlighting some of the cultism discussed below and probably fair enough since it’s in the band’s name as well.
As to what the rest of their due-Dec.-5 self-titled Bonebag Records debut might hold, I have less of an idea now than I might’ve yesterday, and yeah, I like that. Here’s to continued complexity of idea and execution:
Nordic Doom Ascends: SKOGSKULT Unveil Occult-Drenched Video and Album on BONEBAG RECORDS
Skinwalkers, rituals, and mysterious gatherings… the Umeå-based quartet’s riff-filled debut arrives this December on Bonebag Records
Skogskult’s self-titled debut will be released on 5th December 2025 | Watch the video for ‘Turs’
Taking cues from classic doom bands like Sleep, Acid King, and Electric Wizard, as well as contemporary acts like Monolord and Telekinetic Yeti, Bonebag Records is thrilled to announce the debut album from rising stars, Skogskult.
Formed in 2022 in Umeå and featuring members of underground bands Från Mars, Scitalis, and Never Recover, the Swedish doom quartet mark their path toward the album with new single ‘Turs’. Produced by Cavern Deep and Bonebag Record’s own Max Malmer, ‘Turs’ is the second of three singles – following ‘Pakten’ earlier this year – that delves deep into Nordic mythology and arcane mystery. The track tells the story of beings rising from their slumber, bringing destruction as forests fall and mountains bleed. With Swedish lyrics and heavy, fuzz-driven guitars, ‘Turs’ continues to build the atmosphere that defines Skogskult’s sound.
Drawing on imagery of Skinwalkers, Norse burial rituals, and occult gatherings, Skogskult channel the dark traditions of doom and stoner rock into a fuzz-filled vision of darker days to come.
“I had the fortune of catching one of their first shows and signed them on the spot,” explains Malmer. “It was so great to see that there were young, local musicians getting into the stoner doom genre. Since discovering them we’ve produced an entire album together. Hopefully this new single will give everyone a sense of what they’re all about.”
Skogskult’s self-titled debut will be released on 5th December 2025 via Bonebag Records. Watch the video for ‘Turs’ here.
Tracklisting: 1. Lyktans Låga 2. Turs 3. Jag Ger Mig Av 4. Pakten 5. Sol 6. Snöblind
Skogskult: Samuel Nordström – Guitar Albin Kroon – Bass Simon Rosengrim – Vocals Alexander Söderlund – Drums
