Despite their melodic foundation and ready use of vocal harmonies, Undersmile never made for easy listening. The Oxfordshire-based four-piece released their debut EP, A Sea of Dead Snakes, in 2010 and followed it with a split with Caretaker in 2011. By the time they got around to issuing 2012’s full-length debut, Narwhal (review here), through Future Noise Recordings and Tartarus Records, their methodology of grim atmospherics, a nautical thematic and duly weighted, undulating, oceanic progressions was well set. That Narwhal peppered its 79-minute run with interludes and shorter pieces did not lessen its impact.

Comprised then and now of vocalist/guitarists Hel Sterne and Taz Corona-Brown, bassist Olly Corona-Brown and drummer Tom McKibbin, Undersmile in 2012 would do something I can think of few other heavy acts doing in quite the same way. They went acoustic. By starting another band. And then they released a split with themselves the next year, with Wood and Wire (review here) appearing through Shaman Recordings and Future Noise.

Eight, nine years later, there’s still a part of me that wonders if Coma Wall needed to be a separate band, and there are arguments to be made on either side. Hel and Taz have done Coma Wall appearances as a duo over the years, and certainly it’s a more attractive moniker for a gig poster than Undersmile (Acoustic) or something like that. At the same time, doesn’t spinning Coma Wall off into another band limit what Undersmile could be? I guess Jo Quail might show up on cello for either incarnation, but what if Coma Wall wants to plug in and get heavy? What if Undersmile wants to do an unplugged set? How strict do the lines become between one and the other?

But they’re not really separate and I don’t think they were intended to be. Otherwise they’d probably have done the split with someone else. With full-band arrangements, Coma Wall made their first offering with Wood and Wire, the title of the six-songer (three tracks per band) hinting at the interplay of acoustic and electric-based fare that played out across its 42-minute span. In “Summer,” “You Are My Death” and “Cutter’s Choice” — the latter an Undersmile cover from the first EP, because of course — Coma Wall put together full-band unplugged arrangements. At the time I likened it to ’90s-era MTV Unplugged — not at all a jibe in my mind — and specifically, to Alice in Chains‘ performance in that series. The harmonies between Sterne and Corona-Brown in “You Are My Death” follow a cascading pattern that a plucked banjo punctuates along with the snare drum set back in the mix, the bass rolling alongside in a way that comes across as not quite as full as “Summer” before it, but still in a similar vein.

Both pieces have hooks to provide memorability despite their slow unfurling, and “Cutter’s Choice” in Coma Wall‘s hands becomes a welcome highlight of intricate guitar work and a roll that immediately calls Sap to mind; dark in atmosphere, organic in execution. When Undersmile take over with “Soil,” “Killer Bob” and “Hives,” the procession is very much one of having been built up — that is, one band is meant to lead to the other — and “Soil” starts quiet before kicking in. Still, that initial burst of tone is jarring — one imagines less so when an actual vinyl platter is flipped between “Cutter’s Choice” and “Soil,” but I spare you pretending I’m not listening to the digital version — and those same harmonies from “You Are My Death” that made the idea seem almost sweet become part of a densely droning effect.

These songs are actually on the shorter end for Undersmile, though “Hives” tops eight minutes. Narwhal readily went past a 10-minute mark without blinking. But what matters is the plod. Undersmile were never just about being slow, and their lumbering on Wood and Wire is essential to creating the particular downer ambience of their style of doom. Even with its all-the-volume-you’ve-got-worthy distortion, “Soil” remains righteously melodic, and the same is true of “Killer Bob,” which turns for seven and a half minutes to a tempo that’s so excruciating you almost have to laugh about it.

The drone, though. It’s the drone. Earth-style drone. That’s what stands out to me in revisiting Wood and Wire, and it comes out in “Killer Bob” and the down-to-minimal stretch of “Hives” that answers its plunging trajectory with further willful plodding — and is that some acoustic guitar to tie it all together? — as the four-piece convey an utterly hopeless landscape. You can see the trees and the water (and the wolves) on the cover art. By the time “Hives” is finished, the feeling is more that the forest in the background has been burned away and ash and trunk parts are all that’s left. Not so much a rising fog as residual smoldering.

No, Undersmile were never easy listening. They were, however, consistently undervalued. In 2015, the band released their second long-player, Anhedonia (review here), through Black Bow Records, having recorded with Chris Fielding at Skyhammer Studio. Broader in scope and massive in sound to match, it would be their final release before their breakup the next year. So it goes, right? Two good records, some cool shows, played Desertfest here and again. A decent run across seven or so years. More than a lot of bands get. Fair enough.

Well, they’d reunite late in 2019, which was great news except that nobody knew the world was about to end. Coma Wall released three songs recorded by McKibbin in 2020’s Ursa Minor EP, but like everybody’s everything, any and all larger-scale 2020 plans were scuttled owing to the pandemic. To my knowledge, the show Undersmile would have played on Oct. 24 as part of a three-day weekend bill dubbed Restart the Heart at Camden Town’s famous The Black Heart (no babies allowed; I’ve tried) venue alongside Jo Quail, Conan, Trippy Wicked, Wren, Gurt and many more, would have been their first post-reunion, but alas, they canceled last month.

So it goes in a time of “another time.” In the meantime, Taz and Olly Corona-Brown, as well as McKibbin and Tom Greenway double (triple?) in the sometimes-banjo-laden hardcore weirdo outfit Drore, who have been releasing tapes since 2016 and whose latest single “Lone Ranger by Kittens,” is up now for streaming at Bandcamp.

Whatever comes, if anything, will or won’t. What is, is.

As always, I hope you enjoy.

—

I don’t remember what had me thinking of Coma Wall and Undersmile this week. Or last week. Probably something in the Quarterly Review put it in my mind, but I can’t recall what off the top of my head. You know, I wrote 70 reviews for that thing. 70. And the first message I got about it was from some dude being like, “So I guess I didn’t make it, huh?”

Yeah, I had said that I’d work his record in. But come on. I didn’t even get a day to feel like I accomplished something when it was over. I’m sorry that the guy was disappointed — now I am too. Because I did 70 records in 10-per-day installments back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back and it wasn’t enough. I said to The Patient Mrs. last night it’s the first time I’ve done a Quarterly Review and felt like it wasn’t worth the effort. I guess after doing it for more than six years, that’s a pretty decent track record though. Enough that I’ll do another in December or January, anyhow.

But god damn, that kind of became the tone for my whole week: “What the fuck am I doing?”

There were so many other releases I didn’t get to either, and more stuff came in all last week through the contact form. I had specifically slated a premiere for Wednesday so I’d have to stop. I wish I hadn’t. I could’ve used the extra day to cover stuff like Enslaved, Ascia, No Mute, Nothing is Real, Doctor Smoke, Dome Runner, Wooden Fields, Wooden Earth, Trip Hill, Octopus Ride — there, that’s 10. And that was a quick glance at my desktop.

It is intensely frustrating. And I know there’s an entire league of stuff out there that I can’t get to. I wish I had an outlet for just putting something there and being like, “okay, this exists,” but I don’t. There’s no keeping up with an algorithm like Spotify or YouTube channels with tens of thousands of subscribers who just put records out there and people get notifications and then watch some record and buy merch or whatever. Even if I had the time I don’t think I’d do that, but shit it looks efficient.

I have the Gimme Metal show, but come on. I don’t have any listener statistics or anything, but I see mostly the same heads in the chat room every other Friday — and I appreciate that, make no mistake — but I can just imagine a whole ton of people clicking right off as soon as the first riff of whatever weirdo shit I’m playing kicks in.

It’s been 12 years of my life. This is my life’s work. For what?

For music, I guess.

Have a great and safe weekend. Have fun, watch your head. Hydrate. Gimme show next week, plus way more premieres than I actually have time to write. Look out for Black Willows on Monday. Record is a beast.

Thanks for reading. Please buy a t-shirt.

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Last time I recall Coma Wall doing a release was when the group — an alter-ego of recently-reunited UK crushers Undersmile — put out a split (discussed here and here) with their own, much-more-plugged incarnation. That was 2013. And, well, Undersmile are back together, so I guess it follows that Coma Wall would do something as well, and as more groups are digging into their archives as a result of not being able to play shows for the last several months, Coma Wall‘s Ursa Minor EP feels plenty timely even if the original basic tracks were put together during Undersmile‘s initial run.

The sound, of course, is far enough removed from Undersmile to be a different band, and the voices of Hel Sterne and Taz Corona-Brown lock into harmony early and stay that way for the duration, calling to mind a gorgeous redux of any number of grunge acts’ unplugged performances. As these are demos at their foundation, the three songs have a live feel underscoring them, but they’re not necessarily raw, either in the recordings (which have been mixed and worked on) or in the structures of the material itself. Mostly it’s just beautiful and sad.

They’ve got it up on Bandcamp now, and I’ve included the last Undersmile too, both for context and because I like it:

With 2020 plans curtailed by the global pandemic, we decided to look through the Undersmile archives and found these demos which we recorded in 2012. These 3 songs were originally written for Taz and Hel’s pre-Undersmile bands Skylla and Ursa Minor (hence the name of the EP) and date back to around 2007/2008. The performances were recorded live with bass and string overdubs added at a later date.

Although these recordings are just demos, the songs hold a special place in our hearts and so we dusted them off, remixed them, and now unleash them into the world. We hope you enjoy them.

Available here: https://comawall.bandcamp.com/releases

Tracklisting:
1. Breathe in the Ether
2. Wiretaps
3. Already Dead

All songs written by Taz Corona-Brown and Hel Sterne. Lyrics by Taz Corona-Brown.

Taz Corona-Brown – vocals and guitar
Hel Sterne – vocals and guitar
Olly Corona-Brown – bass
Tom McKibbin – keys

Recorded and mixed by Tom McKibbin.
Mastered by Joe Proudlove.
Artwork by Tom McKibbin.

Release date: 28th August 2020

https://www.facebook.com/ComaWall/
https://comawall.bandcamp.com/
http://www.facebook.com/Undersmile
https://undersmile.bandcamp.com/album/anhedonia
http://blackbowrecords.bigcartel.com/product/bbow007-undersmile-anhedonia-double-lp

Coma Wall, Ursa Minor EP (2020)

Undersmile, Anhedonia (2015)

Welcome back, Undersmile. The last post I had concerning the UK atmospheric megasludge four-piece — posted on Sept. 19, 2016 — was titled simply “Undersmile Break Up.” Hard to get more straightforward with that. Now that they’ve just announced they’re re-banded — as opposed to disbanded — it seems only fair to lead with something likewise terse.

The group called it quits on the heels of their best work, which was 2015’s Anhedonia (review here) on Black Bow Records, and as the UK underground has continued to grow in amorphous fashion, their lurking, lingering misty heft has been missed. The reasons for the breakup were simple enough: life, school, other concerns, and so on, but they’ll play Chaos Theory Festival in London on Feb. 29 as their first show back and are looking to do more throughout 2020 as well. Hey guys, did you know that in your absence Desertfest opened a base of operations in New York? Just an idea.

And while I’m getting ahead of myself because I’m stoked Undersmile have returned, I asked if they might have new material written during their time away from the stage and studio, and yeah, they do. Quite reasonably, they’re getting older songs re-nailed down for the fest in Feb. and then they’ll start to think about piecing together and finalizing a follow-up for Anhedonia. From that timeline I’d say maybe 2021?

When I hear something, I’ll post accordingly. In the meantime, they had this to say about the reunion:

We’ve all really missed playing together in Undersmile for the last few years while personal commitments took precedence, but now we’re ready to get back to being an active band, playing gigs, and writing the next Undersmile album. We’re very excited to get back to business.

Our comeback gig is Chaos Theory Festival which takes place at The Dome in Tufnell Park, London on February 29th 2020.
https://www.facebook.com/events/2027020767603675/

See you in 2020.

Undersmile:
Tom McKibbin – Drums
Olly Corona-Brown – Bass
Hel Sterne – Vocals and Lead Guitars
Taz Corona-Brown – Vocals and Guitars

http://www.facebook.com/Undersmile
https://undersmile.bandcamp.com/album/anhedonia
http://blackbowrecords.bigcartel.com/product/bbow007-undersmile-anhedonia-double-lp

Undersmile, Anhedonia (2015)

Thus ends the tale of atmospheric megadoomers Undersmile. A rather unceremonious finish, actually, but so it goes. The UK four-piece have decided to call it a day after seven years. No farewell show, no drawn out fanfare, just “hey we’re not a band anymore and that’s it.” They’ve always had something of a cold streak running through their music. I guess it would make sense they’d finish their run in similar fashion.

During their time together, Undersmile released two full-length albums. Their debut came in 2012 with Narwhal (review here), and they followed it up last year with Anhedonia (review here), released through Jon Davis of Conan‘s Black Bow Records imprint. Both records were mesmerizing in their darkness, the kind of lumbering weight that seemed at all times to be dragging you further down into some impossibly claustrophobic abyss. Needless to say, I’m glad I got to see them live, and they’ll be missed.

They’ve got a couple shows they’re pulling the plug on, and you’ll find those dates and their announcement below, as well as the Anhedonia stream, in case you’d like to climb that mountain of madness one more time. Goes without saying that I wish all the best to everyone in the band.

Here’s what they had on it:

We’ve decided, as friends, that Undersmile has come to an end as of today. We’re all hugely proud of what we’ve achieved with the band. We’ve been honoured and humbled by the support we’ve received from fans of the band and the international doom community as a whole in the seven years that we’ve been together. With so many things going on in our lives at the moment we don’t have the time and energy necessary to move the band forward.

All outstanding merch orders will be shipped this weekend, all outstanding gigs are regrettably cancelled.

Undersmile cancelled shows:
Oct 01 O2 Academy Sheffield Sheffield, UK
Oct 15 Rebellion Manchester, UK

Undersmile:
Tom McKibbin – Drums
Olly Corona-Brown – Bass
Hel Sterne – Vocals and Lead Guitars
Taz Corona-Brown – Vocals and Guitars

http://www.facebook.com/Undersmile
https://undersmile.bandcamp.com/album/anhedonia
http://blackbowrecords.bigcartel.com/product/bbow007-undersmile-anhedonia-double-lp

Undersmile, Anhedonia (2015)

Aesthetic continues to play a large role for UK dual-vocal four-piece Undersmile, whose second full-length, Anhedonia, is out on vinyl through Black Bow Records. The Oxfordshire outfit released their debut, Narwhal (review here), back in 2012 and since then have embarked on an acoustic side-project called Coma Wall, even releasing a split called Wood and Wire between the two bands in 2013 (they also had a split with Bismuth out that year). Because that alter ego contains all four members of Undersmile — guitarist/vocalists Hel Sterne and Taz Corona-Brown, bassist Olly Corona-Brown and drummer Tom McKibbin — I wondered if perhaps some of that influence might sneak its way into the workings of the new Undersmile offering. Aside from a shared theatrical sensibility between them and an enduring penchant for slow pacing, both of which Undersmile already had in their arsenal, almost not at all.

I’ll note that Taz and Hel work together more dynamically as vocalists here than on the debut, but with a few years between and some considerable stage time throughout that span, there’s nothing to say that wouldn’t have been the case anyhow. What Anhedonia is, however, is monolithic. At seven tracks, 75 minutes, it dips below the 10-minute mark just once for second cut “Sky Burial” (8:02), and spends the rest of its time reveling in a near-complete wash of darkness and grueling lumber. One might be tempted to call it drone-doom for the overbearing plod it enacts on “Song of Stones” or opener “Labyrinths,” but the truth of the listening experience isn’t that cut and dry, and for all its (purposeful, useful) unipolar churn, Anhedonia creates rich atmospheres.

We could almost call those atmospheres colorful if we were talking about the deep purples and blacks of the album’s fitting Peacevillean cover art, but either way, they play into the stylized drawl of the material — Hel and Taz‘s vocals either sung clean or shouted, but almost always in a drawn-out delivery to match the nodding material behind, which opens gradually on “Labyrinths” and proceeds to trade back and forth throughout the album in massive swells of volume and minimalist spaciousness, an early flair of strings showing up on the opener that will play in again deeper into the abyss on the penultimate “Emmenagogue” and elsewhere. Rhythmically, the course of Anhedonia impresses perhaps most of all in that it manages to hold together and not — as one might be inclined to do while listening — stop halfway through, have a good cry for days gone and what could have been made of them, and go back to the rest later.

“Sky Burial” works with similar explosive tendencies, and by the time it’s done, Undersmile‘s intent to absolutely overwhelm their audience is writ large. Pushing toward the midsection, “Song of Stones” builds to a heavy push in its middle and again near the end — strings coming forward around the halfway point of the track only to be consumed by the grueling distortion captured at Skyhammer Studio by producer Chris Fielding (also of Conan), reappear, and be swallowed again for the effort. Take that, any sense of hope whatsoever. Centerpiece “Atacama Sunburn” would seem to draw together a water theme present in the band’s past works — Narwhal had its nautical moments, as did Wood and Wire, and even their 2010 debut EP, A Sea of Dead Snakes, was a sea — and a huge vision of waves remains an appropriate image for the undulating force of Undersmile‘s groove — but the real standout of Anhedonia is “Aeris,” which follows.

As one would expect of Undersmile at this point in their tenure, it’s consistent atmospherically with its surrounding pieces, but “Aeris” offers a melodic fullness all its own, and it doesn’t quite stand in contrast to what’s around it, but it marks a definite broadening of the context. It winds up affecting the listening experience for “Emmenagogue” and closer “Knucklesucker” as well, though the finale has its own intentions, which it keeps secret almost to the very end as if to see who among those who’ve taken Anhedonia on might make it that far. After an oozing linear build for its first nine minutes, feedback transitions into faster (gasp!) riffing that solidifies around McKibbin‘s drums and shifts into a more ’90s-style noise rock, the repeated lines, “I don’t feel hollow/I don’t feel sorrow/I don’t feel anything, really,” metered out over a push of growing intensity. It slows down prior to deconstructing at the finish, but even if for just a minute, Undersmile proved it’s possible to make a sound of such enduring thickness move, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find them pushing it further next time.

Of course, with that there comes a full 74 minutes of suffocating doom, but that’s precisely the point. Undersmile‘s intent isn’t to make it easy on the listener, but to challenge their audience to plunge these emotional and sonic depths with them. As a result, Anhedonia is successful because it feels throughout its course like the four-piece are dragging you along with them on their slog through this oppressive ambience. The party album of 2015 it ain’t, but in its progression beyond what Undersmile have done before, for a more personal feel throughout and for the still-monstrous scope with which it plays out, it’s hard not to stand in awe of the wide waters the band continue to cast, be haunted by the otherworldly presence in their melodies and get lost in the tidal sway of their rhythms.

Undersmile, Anhedonia (2015)

Undersmile on Thee Facebooks

Undersmile on Bandcamp

Black Bow Records

Oxfordshire four-piece Undersmile released their sophomore full-length, Anhedonia (review pending), last month on Black Bow Records as the titanic follow-up to their 2012 debut, Narwhal (review here). Recorded at Skyhammer Studios with house producer Chris Fielding (also of Conan, whose Jon Davis owns both Skyhammer and Black Bow), it is a more dynamic outing overall than the debut, utilizing some of the lessons learned from Undersmile‘s operation under the unplugged alter-ego of Coma Wall, with whom they — Undersmile — released a split back in 2013.

They weren’t exactly lacking for atmosphere before, but one can hear the progression in the gradual, patient unfolding of “Song of Stones,” for which Undersmile has a new video rife with all the creepy imagery, candlelight and averted eyes one might expect from guitarist/vocalists Hel Sterne and Taz Corona-Brown, bassist Olly Corona-Brown and drummer Tom McKibbin, and ultimately it makes them a stronger band. “Song of Stones” follows a largely linear pattern, but trades back and forth between spacious, minimalist stretches through which McKibbin‘s ride cymbal seems to be the only thing keeping it all together, and crushing, lumbering doom, the quiet, eerie vocals of Hel and Taz changing to more vicious shouts as surely as the wardrobe cuts from white veils to black dresses. Through these changes, a consistent bleakness is maintained such that, loud or quiet, Undersmile never really veer from the overarching darkness that consumes the track.

The video, likewise, is dark. Actually, it starts out dark and then it gets even darker. But you’ll just have to turn up the brightness on your screen or take my word for it that they’re all in there. Undersmile, who were positively leveling when they played Roadburn in April (review here), worked with Mondo Cheapo Productions on the new clip, which you’ll find on the player below. Dig in and get really to be swallowed whole:

Undersmile, “Song of Stones” official video

The official video for “Song of Stones”, taken from Undersmile’s second album Anhedonia (available on 12″ on Black Bow Records / CD on bttfck srprs rcrds).

Produced in the spring of 2015, and directed by M. Arthur Wickson for Mondo Cheapo Productions: https://www.facebook.com/mondocheapo

Anhedonia was produced at Skyhammer Studio by Chris Fielding (www.skyhammerstudio.com), and mastered by James Plotkin (Khanate / Jodis).

Undersmile on Thee Facebooks

Undersmile on Bandcamp

Black Bow Records

Click Here to Download

[mp3player width=480 height=200 config=fmp_jw_widget_config.xml playlist=aot48.xml]

The second hour starts a little early this time around, and what I mean by that is when you’re like five minutes into hour two and trying to figure out on the tracklisting below what improv-sounding brilliant cut you’re hearing, pay careful attention to when hour one ended. Just 11 seconds from the start of the second half of the podcast. So yeah, that 18-minute wonder gets filed under hour one instead, but it comes with a wink and a nod. I just couldn’t bring myself to file something under hour two without a one at the front of the time stamp, which shows you how sad and compulsive I am because I’ve only been time-stamping these podcasts for two months now. What a dork.

It’s good stuff this. Always is, I suppose, but starting out with Goatsnake into The Machine and then on from there, it builds a flow that makes some sense one into the next in a way that, listening back to it after I put it together, was especially satisfying. Hopefully you agree as you make your way though.

As always, hope you enjoy:

First Hour:
0:00:00 Goatsnake, “Grandpa Jones” from Black Age Blues
0:04:36 The Machine, “Coda Sun” from Offblast!
0:09:55 Galley Beggar, “Pay My Body Home” from Silence and Tears
0:18:51 Steve Von Till, “Night of the Moon” from A Life Unto Itself
0:25:48 Venomous Maximus, “Through the Black” from Firewalker
0:29:42 Black Pyramid, “Open the Gates” from Dead Star 7”
0:34:59 Ape Skull, “A is for Ape” from Fly Camel Fly
0:39:54 Sunder, “Deadly Flower” from Demo
0:43:53 Eternal Fuzz, “Sea Change” from Nostalgia
0:47:37 Geezer, “Long Dull Knife” from Long Dull Knife
0:53:31 Fogg, “Joy of Home” from High Testament
0:59:49 Shiggajon, “Sela” from Sela

Second Hour:
1:18:07 Blown Out, “Thousand Years in the Sunshine” from Planetary Engineering
1:34:01 Les Lekin, “Loom” from All Black Rainbow Moon
1:47:14 Undersmile, “Knucklesucker” from Anhedonia

Total running time: 1:59:00

Thank you for listening.

Download audiObelisk Transmission 048

04.11.15 — 04.00 — Late Sat./Early Sun. — Hotel

It was a misguided attempt at sleep that led me to bed after watching Coltsblood to round out my night. Didn’t work beyond the apparently standard three hours, which is what I’ve gotten give or take each night since Wednesday. When I lie down, my head hears parts of songs, David Eugene Edwards saying, “You don’t know me from Adam, down here in the lamp light,” or Sæþór Sæþórsson of Sólstafir‘s banjo in the back half of “Ótta,” among others. One day bleeds into the next. I dragged ass most of the afternoon and evening, to be perfectly honest, and given the tossing and turning I’ve just done and the fact that I’m up two hours before I set the alarm, I expect the trend to continue. Still, when you’re here, you have to keep going. There’s more to see and more to hear.

We finished the third issue of this year’s Weirdo Canyon Dispatch on schedule, folding and all. It’s online here if you get the chance to check it out.

The weather, which had been gorgeous enough to boast some restorative effect of its own, has turned. I could just as easily call it “yesterday,” but for the purposes of review, I hope you’ll allow the editorial decision to keep current: “Today.” The weather turned today. As though it knew Undersmile, Urfaust, and Fields of the Nephilim were all on the bill and decided “enough of this sunny shit, let’s get down to business for real.” It cleared up later, but was still colder than it had been, and early in the afternoon, I looked outside at one point and saw waves of rain coming down. That was right after Coma Wall, which, you know, fair enough.

Playing as a five-piece with their usual two couples plus a cellist, the mostly-acoustic alter-ego of Undersmile started my day off at Stage01. I got there early, which you have to do, and I wasn’t the only one. Taz Corona-Brown, Olly Corona-Brown, Hel Sterne and Tom McKibbin, plus Tom Greenway on the cello spread out over the stage, McKibbin behind, pulling double-duty on drums and banjo. With Taz and Hel in dresses and quickly sliding into the sort of drawling dual vocals that are a trademark of both Coma Wall and Undersmile, there was a theatrical element to it, but the thickness of the atmosphere spoke for itself as they hit into “Summer” from their 2013 Wood & Wire split with, who else?, their other band. Off to the side of the stage, Olly sat on bass facing the others, kind of overseeing the whole thing with one leg crossed over the other. He looked managerial, but the low end filled the room well, and Coma Wall eased my way into the Roadburn Saturday better than I could’ve asked.

I’d still like to hear them take on “Rotten Apple” or “Don’t Follow” — something off Jar of Flies — which I think they’d nail in the vocals and really be able to darken the mood on, but wouldn’t you know they weren’t taking requests. Couldn’t argue, anyway. Over in the main hall, Claudio Simonetti’s Goblin were well into a live soundtrack to 1978’s Dawn of the Dead, which played on the big screen behind them, audio and all. I saw them here for a bit last year, and sure enough parts of the score were recognizable from that set as well as the movie. Like with Sólstafir‘s live soundtrack on Thursday, there were spaces without any music at all, but of course the difference is that Goblin also wrote the score originally, so to see them do it live to the film was something extra special.

Perhaps most impressive about it was the timing, which they nailed. Keeping pace to scene changes and the film’s quick cuts, they ran through various pieces and themes, the quick bursts for tension as everything goes to crap with all the zombies at the mall, the biker gang showing up and bringing Tom Savini, and so on. It’s been a while since I saw it, and I’d forgotten how many classic lines there are in the film, about Hell being full and the dead walking the earth, and “Operator dead, post abandoned.” There were some times where the balance of audio was lopsided one way or another — hard to match up a film and a live band on stage — but it smoothed out, and I can’t imagine it was many attendees’ first time seeing the movie. That said, I’ve never watched Suspiria, which Claudio Simonetti’s Goblin are scoring as part of the Afterburner, so who knows? When they were done, the four-piece came to the middle of the stage from their spread-out positions, two on one side, two on the other, the middle open to allow the eye to watch the movie, and took a bow. A few seconds before, the credits rolled past with their name listed as The Goblins. So be it.

Next up on the Main Stage was a second go for Enslaved. I tried before they went on to calculate in my head how many Enslaved-related sets there were this year in comparison to 2010, when they were the official artist-in-residence and did sets with offshoot projects like Trinacria and their collaboration with Shining. Between their set last night, the Skuggsjá collaboration with Wardruna that followed, guitarist Ivar Bjørnson ‘s BardSpec set and today, I think they might have 2010 beat. I’m not sure if Bjørnson curating with Wardruna‘s Einar “Kvitrafn” Selvik counts for double or anything — you’d have to get into percentages and it proved too much for my feeble brain to take. In any case, today’s Enslaved set focused much more on newer material. Fair after last night. The recently-issued In Times (review pending) featured heavily with “Thurisaz Dreaming,” “Building with Fire,” “In Times” and “Daylight,” but there was still room to dip back to 2001’s Monumension for “Convoys to Nothingness,” or 2003’s progressive turning point Below the Lights for “As Fire Swept Clean the Earth,” and a balance was struck between the older and newer.

Further distinguishing today from yesterday, though, were the guests. When they got to “Daylight,” bassist/vocalist Grutle Kjellson announced they’d be joined by Selvik, Aðalbjörn Tryggvason from Sólstafir and Per Wiberg, now in Candlemass but known also for his work in Opeth and Spiritual Beggars. The three contributed on vocals at the beginning and end of the song, and Selvik came back out for a longer, soulful guest spot on “Convoys to Nothingness,” while Enslaved proper delivered again the kind of set that brought the crowd back from last night, “Isa” tossed in as a bonus and a cover of Led Zeppelin‘s “Immigrant Song” with more guest guitar included to add even more intrigue. It was not as intense as Friday had been, their newer material offering a more intricate but decidedly less raging style, but they handled it professionally, and seemed to be having as much fun as the audience while they ran through their second of the weekend’s two full sets. The Heads, who followed, are the official artists-in-residence this year, but Enslaved always seem to find welcome at Roadburn.

Particularly having missed The Heads when they played at Het Patronaat last night — Roadburn means hard choices — I knew I wanted to see them today. They were supposed to be here last year, and played in 2008, but with Walter doing live visuals and the four-piece of lead guitarist Paul Allen, guitarist/vocalist Simon Price, bassist Hugo Morgan and drummer Wayne Maskell (the latter three who played as Kandodo on Thursday and joined forces with Loop‘s Robert Hampson at Het Patronaat), it was unmissable. A righteous set boasted jam-laden takes on “Gnu,” “Legavaan Satellite,” “U33” and “Spliff Riff,” the effect positively molten as they enacted space rock supremacy and handed Roadburn its ass over the course of 75 minutes. For me, they were the day’s hypnotic highlight, and I don’t think I was the only one. The crowd cheered as they went into and out of jams, builds paying off and starting anew. As I stood in the back and watched, next two me, two dudes were arguing in German and a third turned around and told them, in accented English, “Please, no politics while The Heads are on.” All laughed. Peace on Earth and goodwill to all Roadburners.

As with Kandodo the other night, The Heads‘ set made me want to head over to the merch area and go, “Just give me everything,” though they have enough live albums over there that to try it and I’d be broke(r) in no time flat. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect from them, knowing records like Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere, which was just recently reissued, At Last and their 1995 debut, Relaxing With…, but they were molten on stage, one song bleeding into the next in a consuming entirety that, even after they’d long since gone, kept the crowd howling. It was fucking awesome. I don’t know how many times I’ll get to see The Heads in my life, but I’m not likely to forget the first, in any case, and if I take nothing else away from Roadburn this year, I’ll take a new touchstone for heavy psych live performance. “It’s good, but is it The Heads good?” will prove a hard standard for most to meet.

Over in the Green Room, Black Anvil were finishing up a punishing set and I watched for a minute through the door as they pummeled away. Undersmile were on next in there, and I’ve been following them since their split with Caretaker in 2011 (review here), so I didn’t want to miss it. They have a new full-length out called Anhedonia, and while I’m a little heartbroken at not having heard it — I loved 2012’s lung-filling debut LP, Narwhal (review here), and thought I had a pretty good relationship with the band — it still seemed prudent to show up early for a dose of their grueling, claustrophobic-but-melodically-brilliant doom, especially as a crushing companion piece to Coma Wall earlier in the day, a sort of bookend with the same lineup minus Greenway‘s cello. They were heavy enough to feel the sound in your chest. I give McKibbin credit for being able to push the tones of Hel, Taz and Olly along, even at such a lumbering pace. By the sound alone, it seems like a task more suited to the crane outside working on the addition to the 013, but the drums do drive Undersmile‘s material forward, and they packed out the Green Room to the point where even the space to watch through the door was full. I felt equal parts lucky to see them, bummed I haven’t heard the new album, and glad I showed up early while they were setting up. It was quite an emotional rollercoaster. Maybe that’s why I had to come back to the hotel and go to sleep afterwards.

Or maybe I was just rendered unconscious by fucking Coltsblood who — holy shit — took Stage01, removed all its fillings and performed a root canal with a safety pin. It was fucking ridiculous. Hyperbole-worthy madness that even H.P. Lovecraft himself would stare at and be like, “Damn, that’s horrifying.” I watched the final few minutes of synth-heavy proggers Zoltan before the UK trio of bassist/vocalist John McNulty, guitarist Jemma McNulty and drummer Jay Plested (also of Black Magician, who played Het Patronaat at Roadburn 2013) went on, but god damn. Even before they started, as Jemma checked her guitar and John ran the line on his bass, you knew it was going to be filthy. Their 2014 full-length debut, Into the Unfathomable Abyss (review here), seemed all the more aptly named as they got underway, and even though John had some technical trouble early on, they shared a bottle of mead on stage and absolutely laid waste to the smaller of the rooms at the 013. I say in full knowledge of John‘s prior association with the band that they were the heaviest thing I’ve seen in that space since Conan made their Roadburn debut there in 2012. They were unbelievable.

And it became quite clear that they’ve earned some loyalty of fanbase as well. The front of Stage01 was crowded with UK types, one of whom took on the solemn duty of making sure that Coltsblood‘s incense (of which I was markedly downwind) stayed lit. Another dude next to me alerted John when the sound guy called for him to start checking his bass. This is a band that people are obviously taking very seriously. The deathly rumble of their extreme, dark, sludgy doom made earplugs a futile exercise, and especially in a one-two with Undersmile, they justified that reaction. With John shouting and growling into the mic while Plested slammed away behind and Jemma, entranced, riffed out a viscous, oil-thick morass, it made sense. I’d want to keep the incense lit too.

By the time I split out from Stage01, the air had more or less been driven out of the room. It was hot, sweaty, smelly — Roadburn means fart clouds — and suitably oppressive. Outside smelled like french fry grease from the food tent, but even that seemed like fresh air. I made my way back to the hotel and started to sort pictures out and get everything ready to review, but noticed after a few minutes that my head was down on the table and I couldn’t seem to pick it back up. I stared up at the laptop monitor for a little bit and decided to crawl into bed.

Wasn’t a crawl. More of a lurch. Either way, about three and a half hours later, I gave up the ghost and decided the middle of the night would be a perfect time to recount the day’s varying destructive encounters. Tomorrow — Sunday, which now that it’s after 06.00, I’m about ready to call the new “today” — is the Afterburner, also plenty busy with Lo-Pan and Abrahma and Argus and Bongripper, Anathema and The Golden Grass. Work on the final issue of the Weirdo Canyon Dispatch starts in about four hours and it will be here and gone before I know it. At least that’s how it usually seems to go.

More pics after the jump. Thanks for reading.

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