The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.

Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.

Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.

The Obelisk Questionnaire: Tyler Vaillant of Mountainwolf

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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

I’ve created and maintained a very confined space in which I can create and express exactly what I want to do. A decade plus of diligently procrastinating but always moving the stone forward, assembling a team of the greatest and most patient people I know. We play with electricity. Finding new notes and sounds. Creating a song in the moment that can never be played note for note ever again. Screaming “WE’LL BE A BAND FOREVER” at the end of every show. I think I fell into it. I’ve had a band ever since middle school and I don’t know what I’d do without one, I’ve never pictured that scenario.

Describe your first musical memory.

Playing an open E on my mother’s classical guitar. I had just heard Nirvana on the radio. That’s the first time I made my own music (noise). Prior to that I had a cassette tape with a bunch of cowboy songs on it. My neighbor Mikey and I would wear our underwear and cowboy hats and re-create the songs for our mothers. I purchased Will Smith Big Willy Style and Black Sabbath’s Paranoid at a Sam Goody. I would ride a train to South Carolina to visit my grandparents and listen to those albums on compact disks. I was so confused how the solo to War Pigs had two guitars when there was only one guitar player. I heard Kashmir on the radio driving with my Dad to his business in a white pickup truck. It was heavy. My mother signed all of my cousins up for guitar lessons and I wanted nothing to do with it. I was 9. I regretted it 4 years later and signed up for my own. Been hooked ever since. I saw my cousins highs cool band when I was very young, blew me away. He taught me how to play Deliverance on the guitar, just the first couple notes, the “famous lick”. All these kind of mesh into one.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

Seeing TOOL was pretty cool. Getting puddled at an Umphreys McGee show was not cool but very psychedelic at the same time. Playing our first sold out show was awesome. Having my grandmother see Mountainwolf live and saying, “That was very sexual darling” was wild. My Mom meeting Lorenza at one of our shows was wild. Playing our first shows in my living room in downtown Annapolis and seeing people crowd surf over my couches was insane. Playing The Whiskey on mushrooms and smashing a guitar was way too psychedelic. Bass amps and PA’s catching on fire was nuts. Losing my shoes and then sifting through a sea of them at an Odd Future show ruled. Almost losing my teeth at Trapped Under Ice sucked. Playing a residency once a week for a month in Baltimore was tite. Recording an entire improvised album and learning how to mix it was stressful but extremely rewarding. Looking over at Tom and Chris when we are dialed in is the best. Playing New Years Eve 2023 surrounded by my favorite people on the planet was electric.

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

We’ve always done everything ourselves. For a couple year period we transferred that power to other people. While we got a lot accomplished (and for that I’m ever grateful) a lot of bullshit came along and truly tested the three of ours relationship. Our bond was almost fucked. We’ve kept it contained ever since.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

Towards something bigger than ourselves. Something that is constantly being worked on but never truly finished. Hopefully being improved upon and if not, thats’s ok, there’s always the next time. Eventually a sense of Zen where you look back and around and say, I’m proud of this, I hope it lasts as long as I do.

How do you define success?

When I look back and around and say, I’m proud of this, I hope it lasts as long as I do. This is a current feeling.

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

Pain Olympics. Gore.com. Goatse. Lemon Party. A video of a girl throwing puppies into a river. The early days of the internet were fucked up for a young boi. I hate seeing videos of bad things happen to animals. Beheading videos. Texts on people’s phones I shouldn’t have looked at. Waking up to a person that wasn’t the person I loved at the time. How much money was taken from this band. How much money I’ve spent on this band. An open casket funeral when I was 10. My grandfather shortly after he passed away. Lorenza’s (my fiance) father withering away. Shitty emails from a toxic boss. Dismantling my father’s business in my 20s. Waking up one morning to see our first YouTube channel deleted. Realizing I lost the first five years of content I created for Mountainwolf. The look of disappointment because of something I’ve done. Angry, dead eyes. Sinister, conniving eyes. But mainly that video of the girl with the puppies, absolutely dreadful. I think I lost my innocence that day.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

All our future albums that live in my head. Graphic novels. I wrote a book that I’d like to see published. A youtube fishing channel (work in progress). A warehouse my best friends can come to and create everyday. A vinyl pressing plant. A cheap, shitty light beer that I can drink everyday. Children.

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

To get the anger out. To get the love out. To get the pain out. To create a cathartic experience that can be enjoyed over, and over, and over et al.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

Getting married. The next fish I catch. Sleeping with my puppy. Beer that doesn’t make you hungover. Gambling on bowling with my bois. Getting together with family. The first snowfall in Maryland (if any). Buying my first home (if ever). Getting back into Texas Holdem. Seeing my puppy (Rudy) play with other dogs. Peace, love, and understanding.

http://facebook.com/mountainwolfmd
https://www.instagram.com/mountainwolfmusic
https://mountainwolf.bandcamp.com/
http://mountainwolfmusic.com/

Mountainwolf, Part 1: Thunder Honey (2023)

The second full-length from Polish heavy psych rockers Wodorost, titled From the Depths, arrives with a direct intent toward immersion. Following on from the Warsaw-based three-piece’s hotly-tipped 2021 self-titled debut, the band — guitarist/vocalist Bartłomiej Głowiński, bassist Jan Witusiński and drummer Anna Żukowska, teamed with returning producer Jacek Stasiak at Kongo Studio — offer a linear experience across two sides of engaging songwriting and what sounds like moments of expressive, fun improvisation on what has been positioned by the band as, “A concept work symbolizing a resurfacing from the abyss, a metaphorical journey through inner exploration and recovery from depression.” The theme can also, of course, be seen on the cover art by M & P Ferenc and Bartłomiej Głowiński.

And sure, one can hear hope in the newschool space boogie of “Whirl,” or in the warm, Colour Hazey tones that go exploring in “Temple” early on, or in the subsequent “Visions,” which is a funky raga wakeup jam with a sans-vocal chorus that returns to end after the song shifts through a Kyuss-style desert riff, but one has to be in it to hear it. That is to say, Wodorost have put it all in front of the listener, but the listener has to pick it up. If you’re not careful, if you don’t give From the Depths its own due time to unfold and reveal its structure in its own way, the eight songs and 45 minutes could wash over you beginning with the intro “Submerged,” which fades slowly in from silence on an atmospheric undersea drone, spooky, loosely threatening, but resonant just the same as the drums begin the march into “Depths.”

Maybe not such a surprise that the post-intro leadoff on a record does a lot of the work in telling the audience about the album, but in tone and purpose, “Depths” is a herald for what Wodorost will do throughout the LP with which the song shares part of its title, while at the same time an excellently placed divergence, since nearly all of what follows is almost completely instrumental. There are two spoken parts — Michał Ferenc (of the art?) contributes voice, Witusiński and Żukowska the words — on “Beyond the Blue” and “Reflections,” but other than that, “Depths” is the only cut on From the Depths that has vocals, and it is the only cut that has singing, which is handled by Głowiński with lyrics once again courtesy of the rhythm section.

This has an effect on the listener almost like a secondary introduction. Wodorost have taken the time to carefully bring you to this place and now they’re going to tell you about it, even if that’s not what the words are actually about. The sound is rawer on the hole, and more cosmically commanding, but the drums hold the procession through the finish and by the time “Depths” is done, Wodorost have completed the welcoming portion of the collection. You could say they did that with “Submerged” but as “Temple” begins its own subdued introduction, the patience and the sense of exploration feel distinct from “Depths,” which thanks to splitting “Submerged” off as the album intro, stood on its own. When the “Temple” riff begins, it’s the kind of next-generation interpretation of heavy psychedelic tenets that made Sungrazer such a draw over a decade ago, only now it’s a new generation again.

But the depth, scope and jam-prone foundations of the style remain firm, and Wodorost use them through the instrumental “Temple” and “Visions” to let parts and entire songs breathe as they seem to want to, and where a lot of bands will tell you they’re chasing creative energies distinct from themselves through the universe, “Beyond the Blue” is particularly organic in its change right around 5:30 when the subtle circling around the band have been doing clicks on the big-sound pedals and they ride that crescendo and its offset chug through the end of the song. Volume, warmth, flow. The spoken part gives a human presence ahead of the danceable “Whirl,” which turns improv-sounding before the guitar shreds in midair, while “Reflections” fades in on wispy runs of memorable lead notes — flicks of melody, almost — and builds on its light bluesy feel, setting itself on a trip that pays off noisy but doesn’t leave the comedown hanging as might be a misstep on an album that feels so otherwise complete.

That notion extends to “Dry Out” as well, which like stretches in “Whirl” and “Reflections,” in that From the Depths is effective in balancing composition and improvisation, and for someone new to the band like myself, the capping nod and entrancing instrumental course of the closer reinforces the potential Wodorost have displayed, whether a given song was more straightforward, set itself to wandering, or brought together both in a dynamic that one hopes will only prove so malleable over a longer term as they move forward. As it builds to its head right near the album’s completion, “Dry Out” still seems to be revealing places Wodorost might go and what they might ultimately bring to a genre that, for all its molten sound, is rarely so able to transcend its own methodologies.

Wodorost, From the Depths (2023)

Wodorost on Facebook

Wodorost on Instagram

Wodorost on Bandcamp

Wodorost on YouTube

Generally I think of Thursday as the penultimate day of a given Quarterly Review. This one I was thinking of adding more days to get more stuff in ahead of year-end coverage coming up in December. I don’t know what that would do to my weekend — actually, yes I do — but sometimes it’s worth it. I’m yet undecided. Will let you know tomorrow, or perhaps not. Dork of mystery, I am.

Today is PACKED with cool sounds. If you haven’t found something yet that’s really hit you, it might be your day.

Quarterly Review #31-40:

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Tortuga, Iterations

From traditionalist proto-doom and keyboard-inflected prog to psychedelic jamming and the Mountain-style start-stop riff on “Lilith,” Poznań, Poland’s Tortuga follow 2020’s Deities (discussed here) with seven tracks and 45 minutes that come across as simple and barebones in the distortion of the guitar and the light reverb on the vocals, but the doom rock doesn’t carry from “Lilith” into “Laspes,” which has more of a ’60s psych crux, a mellow but not unjoyful meander in its first half turning to a massive lumber in the second, all the more elephantine with a solo overtop. They continue throughout to cross the lines between niches — “Quaus” has some dungeon growls, “Epitaph” slogs emotive like Pallbearer, etc. — and offer finely detailed performances in a sound malleable to suit the purposes of their songs. Polish heavy doesn’t screw around. Well, at least not any more than it wants to. Tortuga‘s creative reach becomes part of the character of the album.

Tortuga on Facebook

Napalm Records website

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Spidergawd, VII

I’m sorry, I gotta ask: What’s the point of anything when Spidergawd can put out a record like VII and it’s business as usual? Like, the world doesn’t stop for a collective “holy shit” moment. Even in the heavy underground, never mind general population. These are the kinds of songs that could save lives if properly employed to do so, and for the Norwegian outfit, it’s just what they do. The careening hooks of “Sands of Time” and “The Tower” at the start, the melodies across the span. The energy. I guess this is dad rock? Shit man, I’m a dad. I’m not this cool. Spidergawd have seven records out and I feel like Metallica should’ve been opening for them at stadiums this past summer, but they remain criminally underrated and perhaps use that as flexibility around their pop-heavy foundation to explore new ideas. The last three songs on VII — “Afterburner,” “Your Heritage” and “…And Nothing But the Truth” — are among the strongest and broadest Spidergawd have ever done, and “Dinosaur” and the classic-metal ripper “Bored to Death” give them due preface. One of the best active heavy rock bands, living up to and surpassing their own high standards.

Spidergawd on Facebook

Stickman Records website

Crispin Glover Records website

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Morag Tong, Grieve

Rumbling low end and spacious guitar, slow flowing drums and contemplative vocals, and some charred sludge for good measure, mark out the procession of “At First Light” on Morag Tong‘s third album and first for Majestic Mountain Records, the four-song Grieve. Moving from that initial encapsulation through the raw-throat sludge thud of most of “Passages,” they crash out and give over to quiet guitar at about four minutes in and set up the transition to the low-end groove-cool of “A Stem’s Embrace,” a sleepy fluidity hitting its full voluminous crux after three minutes in, crushing from there en route to its noisy finish at just over nine minutes long. That would be the epic finisher of most records, but Morag Tong‘s grievances extend to the 20-minute “No Sun, No Moon,” which at 20 minutes is a full-length’s progression on its own. At very least the entirety of side B, but more than the actual runtime is the theoretical amount of space covered as the four-piece shift from ambient drone through huge plod and resolve the skyless closer with a crushing delve into post-sludge atmospherics. That’s as fitting an end as one could ask for an offering that so brazenly refuses to follow impulses other than its own.

Morag Tong on Facebook

Majestic Mountain Records store

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Conny Ochs, Wahn Und Sinn

The nine-song Wahn Und Sinn carries the distinction of being the first full-length from German singer-songwriter Conny Ochs — also known for his work in Ananda Mida and his collaboration with Wino — to be sung in his own language. As a non-German speaker, I won’t pretend that doesn’t change the listening experience, but that’s the idea. Words and melodies in different languages take on corresponding differences in character, and so in addition to appreciating the strings, pianos, acoustic and electric guitars, and, in the case of “Welle,” a bit of static noise in a relatively brief electronic soundscape, hearing Ochs‘ delivery no less emotive for switching languages on the cinematic “Grimassen,” or the lounge drama of “Ding” earlier on, it’s a new side from a veteran figure whose “experimentalism” — and no, I’m not talking about singing in your own language as experimental, I’m talking about Trialogos there — is backburnered in favor of more traditional, still rampantly melancholy pop arrangements. It sounds like someone who’s decided they can do whatever the hell they feel like their songs should making that a reality. Only an asshole would hold not speaking the language against that.

Conny Ochs on Facebook

Exile on Mainstream website/a>

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Ritual King, The Infinite Mirror

I’m going to write this review as though I’m speaking directly to Ritual King because, well, I am. Hey guys. Congrats on the record. I can hear a ton going on with it. Some of Elder‘s bright atmospherics and rhythmic twists, some more familiar stoner riffage repurposed to suit a song like “Worlds Divide” after “Flow State” calls Truckfighters to mind, the songs progressive and melodic. The way you keep that nod in reserve for “Landmass?” That’s what I’m talking about. Here’s some advice you didn’t ask for: Keep going. I’m sure you have big plans for next year, and that’s great, and one thing leads to the next. You’re gonna have people for the next however long telling you what you need to do. Do what feels right to you, and keep in mind the decisions that led you to where you are, because you’re right there, headed to the heart of this thing you’re discovering. Two records deep there’s still a lot of potential in your sound, but I think you know a track like “Tethered” is a victory on its own, and that as big as “The Infinite Mirror” gets at the end, the real chance it takes is in the earlier vocal melody. You’re a better band than people know. Just keep going. Thanks.

Ritual King on Facebook

Ripple Music website

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Oldest Sea, A Birdsong, A Ghost

Inhabiting the sort of alternately engulfing and minimal spaces generally occupied by the likes of Bell Witch, New Jersey’s Oldest Sea make their full-length debut with A Birdsong, A Ghost and realize a bleakness of mood that is affecting even in its tempo, seeming to slow the world around it to its own crawl. The duo of Samantha Marandola and Andrew Marandola, who brought forth their Strange and Eternal EP (review here) in 2022, find emotive resonance in a death-doom build through the later reaches of “Untracing,” but the subsequent three-minute-piece-for-chorus-and-distorted-drone “Astronomical Twilight” and the similarly barely-there-until-it-very-much-is closer “Metamorphose” mark out either end of the extremes while “The Machines That Made Us Old” echoes Godflesh in its later riffing as Samantha‘s voice works through screams en route to a daringly hopeful drone. Volatile but controlled, it is a debut of note for its patience and vulnerability as well as its deep-impact crash and consuming tone.

Oldest Sea on Facebook

Darkest Records on Bandcamp

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Dim Electrics, Dim Electrics

Each track on Dim Electrics‘ self-titled five-songer LP becomes a place to rest for a while. No individual piece is lacking activity, but each cut has room for the listener to get inside and either follow the interweaving aural patterns or zone out as they will. Founded by Mahk Rumbae, the Vienna-based project is meditative in the sense of basking in repetition, but flashes like the organ in the middle of “Saint” or the shimmy that takes hold in 18-minute closer “Dream Reaction” assure it doesn’t reside in one place for too much actual realtime, of which it’s easy to lose track when so much krautgazey flow is at hand. Beginning with ambience, “Ways of Seeing” leads the listener deeper into the aural chasm it seems to have opened, and the swirling echoes around take on a life of their own in the ecosystem of some vision of space rock that’s also happening under the ground — past and future merging as in the mellotron techno of “Memory Cage” — which any fool can tell you is where the good mushrooms grow. Dug-in, immersive, engaging if you let it be; Dim Electrics feels somewhat insular in its mind-expansion, but there’s plenty to go around if you can put yourself in the direction it’s headed.

Dim Electrics on Facebook

Sulatron Records webstore

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Mountain of Misery, In Roundness

A newcomer project from Kamil Ziółkowski, also known for his contributions as part of Polish heavy forerunners Spaceslug, the tone-forward approach of Mountain of Misery might be said to be informed by Ziółkowski‘s other project in opener “Not Away” or the penultimate “Climb by the Sundown,” with their languid vocals and slow-rolling tsunami fuzz in the spirit of heavy psych purveyors Colour Haze and even more to the point Sungrazer, but the howling guitar in the crescendo of closer “The Misery” and the all-out assault of “Hang So Low” distinguish the band all around. “The Rain is My Love” sways in the album’s middle, but it’s in “Circle in Roundness” that the 36-minute LP has its most subdued stretch, letting the spaces filled with fuzz elsewhere remain open as the verse builds atop the for-now-drumless expanse. Whatever familiar aspects persist, Mountain of Misery is its own band, and In Roundness is the exciting beginning of a new creative evolution.

Mountain of Misery on Facebook

Electric Witch Mountain Recordings on Facebook

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Aawks, Luna

The featured new single, “The Figure,” finds Barrie, Ontario’s Aawks somewhere between Canadian tonal lords Sons of Otis and the dense heavy psych riffing and melodic vocals of an act like Snail, and if you think I’m about to complain about that, you’ve very clearly never been to this site before. So hi, and welcome. The four-song Luna EP is Aawks‘ second short release of 2023 behind a split with Aiwass (review here), and the trio take on Flock of Seagulls and Pink Floyd for covers of the new wave radio hit “I Ran” and the psychedelic ur-classic “Julia Dream” before a live track, “All is Fine,” rounds out. As someone who’s never seen the band live, the additional crunch falls organic, and brings into relief the diversity Aawks show in and between these four songs, each of which inhabits a place in the emerging whole of the band’s persona. I don’t know if we’ll get there, but sign me up for the Canadian heavy revolution if this is the form it’s going to take.

Aawks on Facebook

Black Throne Productions website

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Kaliyuga Express, Warriors & Masters

The collaborative oeuvre of UK doomsperimental guitarist Mike Vest (Bong, Blown Out, Ozo, 11Paranoias, etc.) grows richer as he joins forces with Finnish trio Nolla to produce Kaliyuga Express‘ Warriors & Masters, which results in three tracks across two sides of far-out cosmic fuzz, shades of classic kraut and space rocks are wrought with jammy intention; the goal seeming to be the going more than the being gone as Vest and company burn through “Nightmare Dimensions” and the shoegazing “Behind the Veil” — the presence of vocals throughout is a distinguishing feature — hums in high and low frequencies in a repetitive inhale of stellar gases on side A while the 18:58 side B showdown “Endless Black Space” misdirects with a minute of cosmic background noise before unfurling itself across an exoplanet’s vision of cool and returning, wait for it, back to the drone from whence it came. Did you know stars are recycled all the time? Did you know that if you drop acid and peel your face off there’s another face underneath? Your third eye is googly. You can hear voices in the drones. Let me know what they tell you.

Kaliyuga Express on Facebook

Riot Season Records store

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Day three of the Quarterly Review is always a good time. Passing the halfway point for the week isn’t nothing, and I take comfort in knowing there’s another 25 to come after the first 25 are down. Sometimes it’s the little things.

But let’s not waste the few moments we have. I hope you find something you dig.

Quarterly Review #21-30:

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Melody Fields, 1901

Though it starts out firmly entrenched in ’60s psychedelia in “Going Back,” Melody Fields‘ 1901 is less genre-adherent and/or retroist than one might expect. “Jesus” borrows from ’70s soul, but is languid in its rollout with horn-esque sounds for a Morricone-ish vibe, while “Rave On” makes a hook of its folkish and noodly bridge. Keyboards bring a krautrock spirit to “Mellanväsen,” which is fair as “Transatlantic” blisses out ’90s electro-rock, and “Home at Last” prog-shuffles in its own swirl — a masterclass in whatever kind of psych you want to call it — as “Indian MC” has an acoustic strum that reminds of some of Lamp of the Universe‘s recent urgings, and “Void” offers 53 seconds of drone before the stomp of the catchy “In Love” and the keyboard-dreamy “Mayday” ends side B with a departure to match “Transatlantic” capping side A. Unexpectedly, 1901, which is the Swedish outfit’s second LP behind their 2018 self-titled debut (review here), is one of two albums they have for Fall 2023, with 1991 a seeming companion piece. Here’s looking forward.

Melody Fields on Facebook

Melody Fields on Bandcamp

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La Chinga, Primal Forces

La Chinga don’t have time for bullshit. They’re going right to the source. Black Sabbath. Motörhead. Enough Judas Priest in “Electric Eliminator” for the whole class and a riffy swagger, loosely Southern in “Stars Fall From the Sky,” and elsewhere, that reminds of Dixie Witch or Halfway to Gone, and that aughts era of heavy generally. “Backs to the Wall” careens with such a love of ’80s metal it reminds of Bible of the Devil — while cuts like “Bolt of Lightning,” “Rings of Power” and smash-then-run opener “Light it Up” immediately positions the trio between ’70s heavy rock and the more aggressive fare it helped produce. Throughout, La Chinga are poised but not so much so as to take away from the energy of their songs, which are impeccably written, varied in energy, and drawn together through the vitality of their delivery. Here’s a kickass rock band, kicking ass. It might be a little too over-the-top for some listeners, but over-the-top is a target unto itself. La Chinga hit it like oldschool masters.

La Chinga on Facebook

Ripple Music website

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Massive Hassle, Number One

Best known for their work together in Mammothwing and now also both members of Church of the Cosmic Skull as well, brothers Bill Fisher and Marty Fisher make a point of stripping back as much as possible with Massive Hassle, scaling down the complex arrangements of what’s now their main outfit but leaving room for harmonies, on-sleeve Thin Lizzy love and massive fuzz in cuts like “Lane,” “Drifter,” the speedier penultimate “Drink” and the slow-nod payoff of “Fibber,” which closes. That attitude — which one might see developing in response to years spend plugging away in a group with seven people and everyone wears matching suits — assures a song like “Kneel” fits, with its restless twists feeling born organically out of teenage frustrations, but many of Number One‘s strongest moments are in its quieter, bluesy explorations. The guitar holds a note, just long enough that it feels like it might miss the beat on the turnaround, then there’s the snare. With soul in the vocals to spare and a tension you go for every time, if Massive Hassle keep this up they’re going to have to be a real band, and ugh, what a pain in the ass that is.

Massive Hassle on Facebook

Massive Hassle website

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Sherpa, Land of Corals

One of the best albums of 2023, and not near the bottom of the list. Italy’s Sherpa demonstrated their adventurous side with 2018’s Tigris & Euphrates (review here), but the six-song/39-minute Land of Corals is in a class of its own as regards their work. Breaking down genre barriers between industrial/dance, psychedelia, doom, and prog, Sherpa keep a special level of tonal heft in reserve that’s revealed near the end of opener “Silt” and is worthy — yes I mean this — of countrymen Ufomammut in its cosmic impact. “High Walls” is more of a techno throb with a languid melodic vocal, but the two-part, eight-minute “Priest of Corals” begins a thread of Ulverian atmospherics that continues not so much in the second half of the song itself, which brings back the heavy from “Silt” and rolls back and forth over the skull, but in the subsequent “Arousal,” which has an experimental edge in its later reaches and backs its beat with a resonant sprawl of drone. This is so much setup for the apex in “Coward/Pilgrimage to the Sun,” which is the kind of wash that will make you wonder if we’re all just chemicals, and closer “Path/Mud/Barn,” which feels well within its rights to take its central piano line for a walk. I haven’t seen a ton of hype for it, which tracks, but this feels like a record that’s getting to know you while you’re getting to know it.

Sherpa on Facebook

Subsound Records store

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Acid Throne, Kingdom’s Death

A sludge metal of marked ferocity and brand-name largesse, Acid Throne‘s debut album, Kingdom’s Death sets out with destructive and atmospheric purpose alike, and while it’s vocals are largely grunts in “River (Bare My Bones)” and the straight-up deathly “Hallowed Ground,” if there’s primitivism at work in the 43-minute six-songer, it’s neither in the character of their tones or what they’re playing. Like a rockslide in a cavern, “Death is Not the End” is the beginning, with melodic flourish in the lead guitar as it passes the halfway point and enough crush generally to force your blood through your pores. It moves slower than “River (Bare My Bones),” but the Norwich, UK, trio are dug in regardless of tempo, with “King Slayer” unfolding like Entombed before revealing itself as more in line with a doomed take on Nile or Morbid Angel. Both it and “War Torn” grow huge by their finish, and the same is true of “Hallowed Ground,” though if you go from after the intro it also started out that way, and the 11-minute closer “Last Will & Testament” is engrossing enough that its last drones give seamlessly over to falling rain almost before you know it. There are days like this. Believe it.

Acid Throne on Facebook

Acid Throne on Bandcamp

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The Holy Nothing, Vol. 1: A Profound and Nameless Fear

With an intensity thrust forth from decades of Midwestern post-hardcore disaffection, Indiana trio The Holy Nothing make their presence felt with Vol. 1: A Profound and Nameless Fear, a five-song/17-minute EP that’s weighted and barking in its onslaught and pivots almost frenetically from part to part, but that nonetheless has an overarching groove that’s pure Sabbath boogie in centerpiece “Unending Death,” and opener “Bathe Me” sets the pummeling course with noise rock and nu metal chicanery, while “Bliss Trench” raw-throats its punkish first half en route to a slowdown that knows it’s hot shit. Bass leads the way into “Mondegreen,” with a threatening chug and post-hardcore boogie, just an edge of grunge to its later hook to go with the last screams, and feedback as it inevitably would, leads the way into “Doom Church,” with a more melodic and spacious echoing vocal and a riff that seems to kind of eat the rest of the song surrounding. I’ll be curious how the quirk extrapolates over a full-length’s runtime, but they sound like they’re ready to get weird and they’re from Fort Wayne, which is where Charlton Heston was from in Planet of the Apes, and I’m sorry, but that’s just too on-the-nose to be a coincidence.

The Holy Nothing on Facebook

The Holy Nothing on Bandcamp

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Runway, Runway

Runway may be making their self-titled debut with this eight-song/31-minute blowout LP delivered through Cardinal Fuzz, Echodelick and We, Here & Now as a triumvirate of lysergic righteousness, but the band is made up of five former members of Saskatoon instrumentalists Shooting Guns so it’s not exactly their first time at the dance of wavy lines and chambered echo that make even the two-minute “No Witnesses” feel broad, and the crunch-fuzz of “Attempted Mordor,” the double-time hi-hat on “Franchy Cordero” that vibes with all the casual saunter of Endless Boogie but in a shorter package as the song’s only four minutes long. “Banderas” follows a chugging tack and doesn’t seem to release its tension even in the payoff, but “Crosshairs” is all freedom-rock, baby, with a riff like they put the good version of America in can, and the seven-minute capper “Mailman” reminds that our destination was the cosmos all along. Jam on, you glorious Canadian freaks. By this moniker or any other, your repetitive excavations are always welcome on these shores.

Runway on Facebook

Echodelick Records website

Cardinal Fuzz store

https://wehereandnow.bandcamp.com/music

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Wet Cactus, Magma Tres

Spanish heavy rockers Wet Cactus look to position themselves at the forefront of a regional blossoming with their third album, the 12-track Magma Tres. Issued through Electric Valley Records, the 45-minute long-player follows 2018’s Dust, Hunger and Gloom (review here) and sees the band tying together straightforward, desert-style heavy rock with a bit of grunge sway in “Profound Dream” before it twists around to heavy-footed QOTSA start-stops ahead of the fuzzy trash-boogie of “Mirage” and the duly headspinning guitar work of “My Gaze is Fixed Ahead.” The second half of the LP has interludes between sets of two tracks — the album begins with “I. The Long Escape…” as the first of them — but the careening “Self Bitten Snake” and the tense toms under the psych guitar before that big last hook in “Solar Prominence” want nothing for immediacy, and even “IV. …Of His Musical Ashes!,” which closes, becomes a charge with the band’s collective force behind it. There’s more to what they do than people know, but you could easily say the same thing about the entire Iberian Peninsula’s heavy underground.

Wet Cactus on Facebook

Electric Valley Records website

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MC MYASNOI, Falling Lower Than You Expected

All-caps Icelandic troupe MC MYASNOI telegraph their experimentalism early in the drone of “Liquid Lung [Nucomp]” and let some of the noise around the electronic nod in “Antenula [OEBT]” grow caustic in the first half before first bliss then horror build around a progression of drums, ending with sax and feedback and noise and where were the lines between them anyway. The delve into the unknown threads more feedback through “Slug Paradox,” which has a vocal line somewhere not terribly far off from shoegaze, but is itself nothing so pedestrian, while “Kuroki” sounds like it could’ve been recorded at rehearsal, possibly on the other side of the wall. The go-wherever-you-end-up penchant holds in “Bleach in Eye,” and when “Xcomputer must dieX” clicks on, it brings about the rumble MC MYASNOI seem to have been threatening all along without giving up the abidingly oddball stance, what with the keyboard and sax and noise, noise, noise, plus whispers at the end. I’m sure that in the vast multiverse there’s a plenet that’s ready for the kind of off-kilter-everythingism wrought by MC MYASNOI, but you can bet your ass this ain’t it. And if you’re too weird for earth, you’re alright by me.

MC MYASNOI on Facebook

MC MYASNOI on Bandcamp

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Cinder Well, Cadence

The 2020 album from transient folk singer-songwriter Cinder Well, No Summer (review here), landed with palpable empathy in a troubled July, and Cadence has a similar minimalist place to dwell in “Overgrown” or finale “I Will Close in the Moonlight,” but by and large the arrangements are more lush throughout the nine songs of Cadence. Naturally, Amelia Baker‘s voice remains a focal point for the material, but organ, viola and fiddle, drums and bass, etc., bring variety to the gentle delivery of “Gone the Holding,” the later reaches of “Crow” and allow for the build of elements in “A Scorched Lament” that make that song’s swaying crescendo such a high point. And having high points is somewhat striking, in context, but Cinder Well‘s range as shown throughout Cadence is beholden to no single emotional or even stylistic expression. If you’d read this and gripe that the record isn’t heavy — shit. Listen again.

Cinder Well on Facebook

Free Dirt Records on Bandcamp

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Don’t ask me if the ‘quarter’ in question is Fall or Winter, and I’m still planning another QR probably in early January or even December if I can sneak it, but I was able to sneak this week in while no one was looking at the calendar — mostly, that is, while I wasn’t filling said calendar with other stuff — and I decided to make it happen. I even used the ol’ Bing AI to make a header image for it. I was tired of all the no-color etchings. It’s been a decade of that at this point. I’ll try this for a bit and see how I feel about it. The kind of thing that matters pretty much only to me.

This might go to 70, but for right now it’s 50 releases Monday to Friday starting today, 10 per day. I know the drill. You know the drill. Let’s get it going.

Quarterly Review #1-10:

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Negative Reaction, Zero Minus Infinity

Holy fucking shit this rips. You want sludge? Call the masters. There are two generations of bands out there right now trying to tap into the kind of slow and ultra-heavy disaffection — not to mention the guitar tone — of Negative Reaction, and yet, no hype whatsoever. This record didn’t come to me from some high-level public relations concern. It came from Kenny Bones, who founded Negative Reaction over 30 years ago in Long Island (he and thus the band are based in West Virginia now) and whose perpetual themes between crushing depression and the odd bit of Star Wars-franchised space opera have rarely sounded more intentionally grueling. Across six songs and a mood-altering 46 minutes, Bones, bassist KJ and drummer Brian Alien bludgeon with rawness and volume-worship weight that, frankly, is the kind of thing riff-dudes on social media should be tripping over themselves to be first to sing its praises, the lurch in “Back From the Sands” feeling sincere in its unconscious rifference (that’s a reference you make with a riff) to Saint Vitus‘ “Born Too Late,” and maybe Negative Reaction were, or maybe they were born too early, or whatever, but it’s not like they’ve been a fit at any point in the last 30-plus years — cheeky horror riff chugging in “Space Hunter,” all-out fuckall-punker blast in “I’ll Have Another” before the 13-minute flute-laced (yes, Bones is on it) cosmic doom finish of “Welcome to Infinity,” etc., reaffirming square-peg status — because while there’s an awful lot of sludge out there, there’s only ever been one Negative Reaction. Bones‘ and company’s angry adventures, righteous and dense in sound, continue unabated.

Negative Reaction on Facebook

Negative Reaction on Bandcamp

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Fuzz Evil, New Blood

Arizona brothers Wayne and Joey Rudell return with New Blood, the first Fuzz Evil full-length since High on You (review here) in 2018, and make up for lost time with 53 minutes of new material across 13 songs from the post-Queens of the Stone Age rock at the outset in “Suit Coffin” to the slow, almost Peter Gabriel-style progressivism of “Littlest Nemo,” the nighttime balladry of “Gullible’s Travel” or the disco groove of “Keep on Living.” Those three are tucked at the end, but Fuzz Evil telegraph new ideas and departures early in “My Own Blood” and even the speedier “Run Away,” with its hints of metal, pulls to the side from “Souveneers,” the hooky “G.U.M.O.C.O.,” a cut like “Heavy Glow” (premiered here) finding some middle ground between attitude-laced desert rock and the expansions thereupon of some New Blood‘s tracks. Shout to “We’ve Seen it All” as the hidden gem. All Fuzz Evil have ever wanted is to write songs and maybe make someone — perhaps even you — dance at a show. With the obvious sweat and soul put into New Blood, a little boogieing doesn’t seem like too much to ask.

Fuzz Evil on Facebook

Fuzz Evil on Bandcamp

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Cardinal Point, Man or Island

A second full-length from Serbia’s Cardinal Point, Man or Island asks its central question — are you a man or an island — in the leadoff title-track. I’m not sure what being one or the other delineates, but masculinity would seem to be preferred judging by the Down-style riffing of “Stray Dog” or the heavy-like-1991 “Right ‘n’ Ready,” which feels like it was written for the stage, whether or not it actually was. “Sunrise” borders on hard country with its uber-dudeliness, but closer “This Chest” offers tighter-twisting, Lo-Pan-style riffing to cap. The tracks are pointedly straightforward, making no pretense about where the band is coming from or what they want to be doing as players. The grooves swing big and the choruses are delivered with force. You wouldn’t call it groundbreaking, but the Vranje-based four-piece aren’t trying to revolutionize heavy so much as to speak to various among those traditions that birthed it. They succeed in that here, and in making the results their own.

Cardinal Point on Facebook

Cardinal Point on Bandcamp

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Vlimmer, Zersch​ö​pfung

Voices far more expert than mine have given pinpointed analyses of Vlimmer‘s goth-as-emotive-vehicle, semi-electronic, sometimes-heavy post-punk, New Dark Wave, etc., stylistic reach as relates to the Berlin-based solo artist’s latest full-length, Zersch​ö​pfung, but hearing The Cure in “Makks” and “Fatalideal” taken to a place of progressive extrapolation on “Platzwort” and to hear the Author & Punisher-informed slow industrial churn of the penultimate “Todesangst” become the backdrop for a dreamy vocal like Tears for Fears if they stayed up all night scribbling in their notebook because they had so much to say. Vlimmer (né Alexander Leonard Donat) has had a productive run since the first numbered EPs started showing up circa 2015, and Zersch​ö​pfung feels like a summation of the style he’s established as his own, able to speak to various sides of underground and outsider musics without either losing itself in the emotionalism of the songs or sublimating identity to genre.

Vlimmer on Facebook

Blackjack Illuminist Records on Bandcamp

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No Gods No Masters, Torment

Dutch sludge metallers No Gods No Masters may seem monolithic at first on their second full-length, the self-released Torment, but the post-metallic dynamics in the atmospheric guitar on lead cut “Into Exile” puts the lie to the supposition. Not that there isn’t plenty of extreme crush to go around in “Into Exile” and the four songs that follow — second track “Towering Waves” and closer “End” on either side of the 10-minute mark, “Such Vim and Vigor” and “A God Among the Waste” shorter like “Into Exile” in a five-to-six-minute range — as the band move from crawling ambience to consuming, scream-topped ultra-doom, leave bruises with elbows thrown before the big slowdown in “Such Vim and Vigor” and tear ass regardless of tempo through the finale, and while they never quite let go of the extremity of their purpose, neither do they forget that their purpose is more than extremity. Torment sounds punishing superficially — certainly the title gives a hint that all is not sunshine and puppies — but a deeper listen is met by the richness of No Gods No Masters‘ approach.

No Gods No Masters on Facebook

No Gods No Masters on Bandcamp

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Ananda Mida, Reconciler

Italian psych rockers Ananda Mida are joined by a host of guests throughout their third full-length, Reconciler, including a return appearance from German singer-songwriter Conny Ochs on the extended heavy psych blueser “Swamp Thing” (14:52) and the four-part finale “Doom and the Medicine Man (Pt. V-VIII)” (22:09), which draws a thread through the history of prog and acid rocks, kraut and space applying no less to the 12-minute “Lucifer’s Wind” as to the surf-riffing “Reconciling” after — the latter gets a reprise on platter two of the 83-minute 2LP — as Ananda Mida dig deep into the shining thrust in the early verses of “Never Surrender” that give over to thoughtful jamming in the song’s second half, finding proto-metallic resolve in “Following the Light” before reconciling “Reconciling (Reprise)” and unfurling “Doom and the Medicine Man” like the lost ’70s coke-rock epic it may well be in some other universe, complete with the acoustic postscript. It’s two records’ worth of ambitious, and it’s two records’ worth of record. This is exploratory on a stylistic level. Searching.

Ananda Mida on Facebook

Go Down Records website

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Ojo Malo, Black Light Fever Tripping

Lumbering out of El Paso, Texas (where folks know what salsa should taste like), with seven tracks across a 23-minute debut EP, Ojo Malo follow a Sabbathian course of harder-edged doom, thick in its groove through “Crow Man” after the “Intro” and speedier with an almost nu-metal crunch in “Charon the Ferryman.” There’s Clutch and C.O.C. influences in the riffing, but there are tougher elements too, a tension that wouldn’t have been out of place 28 years ago on a Prong record, and the swing in “Black Trip Lord” has an undercurrent of aggression that comes forward in its chugging second half. The penultimate “Grim Greefo Rising” offers more in terms of melody after its riffy buildup, and “Executioner” reveals the Judas Priest that’s been in the band’s collective heart all the while. Bookended with manipulated sounds from the recordings in “Intro” and “Outro,” Black Light Fever Tripping sounds exactly like it doesn’t have time for your bullshit so get your gear off stage now and don’t break down your cymbals up there or it’s fucking on.

Ojo Malo on Facebook

Ojo Malo on Bandcamp

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Druid Fluids, Then, Now, Again & Again

Druid Fluids — aka Adelaide, Australia’s Jamie Andrew, plus a few friends on drums, piano, and so on — inhabits a few different personae out of psychedelic historalia throughout Then, Now, Again & Again, finding favorites in The Beatles in “Flutter By,” “Into Me I See” (both with sitar), and “Layers” while peopling other songs specifically with elements drawn from David Bowie and the solo work of Lennon and McCartney, all of which feels like fair game for the meticulously-arranged 11-song collection. “Sour’s Happy Fantasy” offers sci-fi fuzz grandeur, while “Timeline” is otherworldly in all but the central strum holding it to the ground — a singularly satisfying melody — and “Out of Phase” swaggers in like Andrew knows he was born in the wrong time. He might’ve been, but he seems to have past, present and future covered either way in this material, some of which was reportedly written when he was a teenager but which has no doubt grown more expansive in the intervening years.

Druid Fluids on Facebook

Druid Fluids on Bandcamp

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Gibbous Moon, Saturn V

The years between their 2017 self-titled three-songer EP and the forthcoming 11-track debut full-length, Saturn V, would seem to have found Philly heavy rockers Gibbous Moon refining their approach in terms of craft and process. “Blue Shelby” has a turn on guitar like Dire Straits as vocalist Noelle Felipe (also bass) drops references to Scarface in “Blue Shelby” and brings due classicism to Mauro Felipe‘s guitar on “Ayadda.” That song, as well as “Everything” and closer “Peacemaker,” tie the EP to the LP, but Noelle, Mauro and drummer Michael Mosley are unquestionably more confident in their delivery, whether it’s the bass in the open reaches of “Sine Wave” or the of-course-it’s-speed-rock “Follow that Car” and its punker counterpart “Armadillo.” Space rock is a factor in “Indivisible,” and “Inflamed” is almost rockabilly in its tense verse, but wherever Gibbous Moon go, their steps are as sure as the material itself is solid. I’m not sure when this is actually out, if it’s 2023 or 2024, but heads up on it.

Gibbous Moon on Facebook

Gibbous Moon on Bandcamp

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Mother Magnetic, Mother Magnetic

Arranged shortest to longest between the ah-oo-oo-ah-ah hookiness of “Sucker’s Disease” (3:03), the nodder rollout of “Daughters of the Sun” (5:47) and the reach into psych-blues jamming in “Goddess Land” (7:03), Mother Magnetic‘s self-titled three-song EP is the first public offering from the Brisbane four-piece of vocalist Rox, guitarist James, bassist Tim and drummer Danny, and right into the later reaches of the last of those tracks, the band’s intentions feel strongly declarative in establishing their melodic reach, an Iommi-circa-’81 take on riffmaking, and a classic boozy swagger to the vocals to match. There was a time, 15-20 years ago, when demos like this ruled the land and were handed to you, burned onto archaic CD-Rs, in the vain hope you might play them in your car on the way home from the show. To not do so in this case would be inadvisable. There’s potential in the songwriting, yes, but also on a performance level, for growth as individuals and as a group, and considering where Mother Magnetic are starting in terms of chemistry, that’s all the more an exciting prospect.

Mother Magnetic on Facebook

Mother Magnetic on Bandcamp

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The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.

Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.

Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.

The Obelisk Questionnaire: Joey Kaufman of The Holy Nothing

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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

The Holy Nothing feels like our collective second chance at being in a band. We all spent our 20s playing in local bands and touring around by the skin of our teeth. THN feels like we all finally knew what we were doing and how to go about it in a way that was good for everyone. The whole point from jump was “if it isn’t fun, we’re not gonna do it.” So far, it’s been just fun.

Describe your first musical memory.

I lived in this old farmhouse when I was a kid. I remember my dad used to put music on in the house. The earliest memory I have is hearing The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia by Reba McEntire. I was super intrigued by the story telling aspect of it. That’s something I’ve chased as a songwriter and something I hope to explore way more of moving forward.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

Honestly, it was fairly recent. Again, I’m sure into story telling and thematically-driven music. So bands like My Chemical Romance were HUGE for me. So seeing them on their reunion run with my chick was insane. The most special moment though was them closing Riot Fest with the song Cancer. It wasn’t in the setlist or anything. They just did it. We just held each other and sand along all teary eyed and shit.

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

In regards to music? The whole amp modeling, processor thing. It seems super convenient and would probably save my lower back from spasming all the time. It seems really sick. But I just can’t get over how sick amps and cabs look and sound. Rock and Roll don’t need computer amps.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

I feel like I’ve seen it go into so many different directions. Hopefully it leads to folks trying new things despite what they’ve created in the past. I hope it just makes our band want to outdo ourselves for ourselves. Nobody else.

How do you define success?

When my two friends and I can hear or see something we did together and go “yeah, this creates an emotional response”. I just want those two dudes to be hyped on what I’m doing the same way I get hyped on what they’re doing.

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

My chick works in the medical field so she’s fascinated by like horrific medical related Instagram accounts and shit. So like seeing a dude get de-gloved or some shit. I’m not into that.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

I want our band to be viewed as an art project more than a typical rock band. There’s a ton of visual related stuff that I’m really excited for us to pursue that will be accompanied by our music. I feel like music videos are there to supplement the music. I’d like to do things the other way around where we create a visual and the write music to that.

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

For me, it’s to just create emotional responses. Finding things that feel like they’re speaking directly at you.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

The final season of Letterkenny. Those guys feel like family to me and my favorite part of the holiday season is watching them.

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100093190566481
https://theholynothing.bandcamp.com/

The Holy Nothing, Vol. I: A Profound and Nameless Fear (2023)

The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.

Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.

Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.

The Obelisk Questionnaire: Stephen Sheppert of Radiant Knife

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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

I’d describe our music as prog influenced sludge with some sci-fi and possibly dark wave elements. Prog in the sense of math-rock/noise rock influence akin to Don Caballero, Dazzling Killmen, Breadwinner, Loincloth, and not necessarily tech-metal wankery.

Describe your first musical memory.

One that has stood the test of time is many mornings my father would play the record “The Wall” by Pink Floyd. I distinctly remember the song “Another Brick in the Wall” playing as I got ready for school. He had a music room full of vinyl and a decent sound system that would fill the house. “Hey teacher, leave those kids alone” as I walked out the door.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

Any time I’ve made connections with other musicians via the riff without speaking. It feels like a form of telepathy that everyone should experience. It’s one of the unique things creating music can provide through making art with others.

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

These days overt self promotion has become the norm, fueled by a fake it till you make it mentality. Being bombarded with that mentality through modern media is a test.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

In some ways it can result in more technically proficient and developed song structure, but in some cases regression can be progression as well. In many cases stripped back roots of music in its rudimentary form can more effectively convey a message or connect with listeners. Really depends on how you define progression.

How do you define success?

Created unabated art walled off from influence of outsiders, metrics, and all things business.

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

The daily news, any day of the week or anything spewed from mainstream media.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

Possibly a blues influenced album that embraces time signature changes and off timings. An off timed vibe based in pentatonics.

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

To the artist the essential function is release and realization of something tangible, formed from emotions, moods, etc. To the person, aesthete, etc. experiencing the art it could be a connection through a similar way of thinking, or lasting impression from a different way of thinking.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

These days I look forward to family time and time spent with lifelong friends. The reality that life is fleeting becomes more evident the older we get. The Beatles weren’t wrong with “All you need is love”.

http://www.linktr.ee/radiant_knife
http://www.facebook.com/Radiantknife
http://www.instagram.com/RADIANT_KNIFE
http://www.radiantknife.bandcamp.com

Radiant Knife, Pressure (2023)

You never heard this band before? Awesome! Me neither. And it turns out they don’t really have anything released yet, so we’re not even behind the times. Samsation‘s self-titled debut EP will be out Nov. 17 arrives with the backing of Rocket Panda Management, which also runs the StonerKras Fest in Trieste, Italy, that I’ve been posting about the last couple years. Samsation list Trieste as their hometown, but the bio says they’re from Divača over the border in Slovenia, but either way, they’re from somewhere and they’re introducing their EP with the delightfully whacked-out video for “Black Cat,” which features paper masks, earliest Deep Purple vibes, and feline-themed shenanigans a-plenty, up to and including clawing at each other and apparently sharing a mouse at the finish.

The PR wire brings background — a family band is always fun — and the inevitable Bandcamp preorder link. It’s a little more over-the-top than I was expecting from the description mentioning prog and all that, but I’m not about to complain when the song is cool and the band are so obviously having a good time. Haven’t heard the rest of the EP yet, so just the sample of the clip thus far. By all means, embrace something new today.

Here you go:

SAMSATION self-titled debut EP – presale starts TODAY

– debut EP of the new psychedelic prog rock sensation from Slovenia –

We are very stoked to start the presale of the psychedelic prog rock band SAMSATION self-titled debut EP !!! The release will see the light on November 17th with the support from Rocket Panda Management.

DIGITAL PREORDER HERE: https://samsation.bandcamp.com/

SAYS THE BAND

“One moment a ruthless killer, in another a playful little ball of fur, Black Cat is an attempt to put this contrast into music. It combines a fat and heavy groove with a funky and playful segment. Black Cat is the lead single of Samsation’s self-titled EP, accompanied by a video spot of a light mischievous nature, but located in a dark and thrilling setting.”

ALBUM DESCRIPTION

Samsation’s self-titled EP is the first studio production of the band. It was recorded, mixed and mastered at Track Terminal Studios by sound engineer Alessandro Perosa. The EP is composed of varying motifs that range from ballads and acid grooves to heavier blues with psychedelic riffs. Overall, it shows the band’s influences from the Woodstock era.

Powered by Rocket Panda Management.

TRACKLIST:
1. Shiny Mama
2. Rail Oppressed
3. Frozen in Time
4. Black Cat
5. Psycho Boom

BIOGRAPHY

Samsation was formed near Divača, Slovenia in 2020 by the three Samsa brothers Leo (lead vocals/keyboards), Rok (guitar/backing vocals), Bor (drums) and immediately joined by their cousin Saša Cej on the bass guitar. All the members share a deep love for the rock music of the late ’60s and early ’70s. This common passion inspired them to create their original repertoire of psychedelic rock songs.

After several venue and festival shows in Italy and Slovenia (the band played StonerKras Fest 2022) is now time for the self-titled debut EP powered by Rocket Panda Management.

SAMSATION is:
Leo Samsa – lead vocals/keyboards
Rok Samsa – guitar/backing vocals
Bor Samsa – drums
Saša Cej – bass

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100083358010151
https://www.instagram.com/samsation_band/
https://samsation.bandcamp.com/

Samsation, “Black Cat” official video