Posted in Whathaveyou on April 15th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I wrote the bio that appears below for Dwellers‘ first album in 11 years, Corrupt Translation Machine — starts at “Dwellers’…,” ends at my name — so you’ll pardon me if I don’t pretend to have not heard it. If you caught the righteous return of guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano‘s other band, Iota, last year, and if you heard the two records Dwellers put out during their initial post-Iota run, in 2012 and 2014, you’ll probably have high expectations going into this third LP.
They’ll be met, if perhaps not in the way one anticipates. Corrupt Translation Machine‘s first single is “The Sermon,” which is a heavy culmination that comes late in the record, but so much more of the material is about the texture and the atmosphere being molded through the songwriting, the soulful melodies, and the emotional expression. The 11-minute finale shows a range Dwellers have never had before, and the entire journey of a record sets the band on a path distinct from Iota while still brimming with progressive construction.
Release date just got posted as May 23. Here’s the info (mostly the aforementioned bio) as hoisted from Bandcamp:
Dwellers’ story has always been one of diversion and redirection. Begun in Salt Lake City by guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano – also of Iota – the band’s 2012 debut, Good Morning Harakiri, and its 2014 follow-up, Pagan Fruit, helped establish a distinct creative voice in psychedelia and Americana-tinged blues rock, expressive and vulnerable in ways that heavy rock and roll is rarely willing to be.
Corrupt Translation Machine, which brings bassist Oz Inglorious (Iota, ex-Bird Eater), drummer Kellii Scott (Failure) and pianist/synthesist Chase Cluff (Last) to a completely revamped four-piece lineup, is both a reinvention and continuation of Dwellers’ purpose. The album lays claim to the heaviest sounds Dwellers have yet produced, and meets that head on with poppish fluidity and melodicism as the album sets out with “Headlines,” only to take greater risks later. Love and the potential of its loss meet with expansive, sometimes cinematic texturing, and just as Toscano led Iota into a career-defining reignition with 2024’s comeback LP, Pentasomnia, so too do Dwellers declare themselves with Corrupt Translation Machine.
“In the context of the album, the Corrupt Translation Machine is the human being,” reveals Toscano. “The songs on this album seem to be mostly about impermanence, addiction, loss, love, and the intangibility of perception. I say ‘seem to’ because there was no contrived concept for the album to be one thing or another, and when I listen to it, I have a strong feeling that I’m interpreting it just the same as when I’m listening to someone else’s songs. I could tell you exactly what each song is about, but that would go against the title of the album.”
The evocative tapestry of Dwellers’ sound has evolved in craft, intention and performance. It’s not just about having new people on board or about not sounding like Iota. Corrupt Translation Machine posits Dwellers as a singular entity as it engages classic progressivism and breadth in the 11-minute “Marigold (Heart of Stone)” or shifts into the outright tonal crush of “The Beast” or the weighted push of “The Maze.” No one song is just one thing, however, and as Dwellers bring together ideas from across a range of styles from space rock to dirt-coated grunge, the listening experience becomes less about genre and more about soul.
In this way, and despite the title, Corrupt Translation Machine could hardly communicate more clearly what and who Dwellers are as a band. And more, it speaks to the greater ongoing thread of their progression, renewed after 11 years and somehow still right on time. – JJ Koczan
Tracklisting: Side A: 1. Headlines – 04:03 2. Spiral Vision – 04:21 3. Old Ways – 04:33 4. The Beast – 05:41 5. The Maze – 04:26 Side B: 6. Inside Infinity – 05:21 7. The Sermon – 05:04 8. Marigold (Heart of Stone) – 11:05
All songs written, arranged and produced by Joey Toscano Drums tracked at Akira Audio by Gabe Van Benschoten, Calabasas, CA. Everything else recorded by Mike Sasitch at Man Vs. Music, Salt Lake City, UT. Mixed by Eric Hoegemyer at Tree Laboratory, Brooklyn, NY. Mastered by Chris Goosman at Baseline Audio Labs, Ann Arbor, MI. Artwork by Dani Joy @d_joy_art Layout by Alexander von Wieding, zeichentier.com Published by Small Stone Records (ASCAP).
Dwellers are: Joey Toscano: guitars, vocals, synth, rhodes piano Oz Inglorious: bass Kellii Scott: drums Chase Cluff: synthesizers, rhodes piano
Posted in Reviews on April 10th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
A lot going on today, not the least of which is the Spring 2025 Quarterly Review passing the halfway mark. Normally this would’ve happened yesterday, but half of 70 records is 35 and unless I’ve got the math wrong that’s where we’re at here. It’s a decent time to check and see if there’s anything you’ve missed over the last couple days. You never know how something will hit you the next time.
The adventure continues…
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Messa, The Spin
Now signed to Metal Blade — which is about as weighty as endorsements get for anything heavy these days — Italy’s Messa emerge from the pack as cross-genre songwriters working at a level of mastery across their fourth album, The Spin, elevating riff-led songs with vocal melodicism and aesthetic flexibility. “Fire on the Roof” is a hook ready to tattoo itself to your brain, while “The Dress” dwells in its ambience before getting intense and deceptively technical — just because a band dooms out doesn’t mean they can’t play — ahead of the Iommi-circa-’80 solo’s payoff. It’s all very grand, very sweeping, very encompassing, very talented and expensive-sounding. “At Races” and “Reveal” postulate a single ‘Messa sound’ that someone more important than me will come up with a clever name for, and the band’s ascent of the last nine years will continue unabated as they’re heralded among the foremost stylistic innovators of their generation. You won’t be able to say they didn’t earn it.
Kansas-based heavy djent instrumentalists After Nations offer their fifth full-length, Surface | Essence, with a similar format to 2023’s The Endless Mountain (review here), and, fortunately, a similarly crushing ethic. Where the prior album explored Buddhist concepts, the band seem to have traded that for Hinduist themes, but the core approach remains in a mix of sounds churning and progressive. Meshuggah are a defining influence in the heavier material, but each ‘regular’ song (about four minutes) is offset by a shorter (about a minute) ambient piece of one sort or another, and so while Surface | Essence gives a familiar core impression, what the band add to that — including in short, Between the Buried and Me-ish quiet breaks like in “Yāti” and “Vīrya” — is their own. Not to harp on it, but the last record played out the same way and it worked there too. Eventually, one assumes, the two sides will bleed together and they’ll lay waste with that all their mathy interconnected atmospheric assault. As-is, the gigantism of their heaviest parts serves them well.
Taking its chiaroscuro thematic to a meta level, The Complicate Path to the Multiverse breaks its eight-song procession in half, with four heavy rockers up front followed by four acoustic-based cuts thereafter. It’s not a hard and fast rule — there’s still some funky wah in the penultimate “When it’s All Over,” for example — but it lets the Roman troupe give a sense of build as they make their way to “Cradle of Madness” in drawing the two sides of light and dark together. The lyrics do much of the heavier lifting in terms of the theme — that is, the heavier material isn’t overwhelmingly grim despite being the ‘darker’ side — but they let tonal crunch have its say in that regard as well, and side A brings to mind heavy rockers with a sense of progressivism like Astrosoniq while side B pays that off with a creative turn. If you don’t know what you’re getting going into it, the songwriting carries the day anyhow, and as laid back as the groove gets, there’s an urgency of expression underlying the delivery.
Likely no coincidence that London instrumentalist guitar/drum duo Bident — get it, bi-dent? two teeth? there are two of them in the band? ah forget it — launch their debut album, Blink, with “Psychological Raking.” That opener lives up to its billing in its movement between parts and sets up the overarching quirk and delight-in-throwing-a-twist that the subsequent eight tracks provide, shenanigans abound in “Calorina Leaper,” “Thhinking With a Moshcap On” and “Blink,” which renews the drum gallop at the end. With a noteworthy character of fuzz, Blink can accommodate the push of “Two-Note Pony” — which sure sounds like there’s bass on it — the nod in “Bovine Joni” and the sprint that takes hold in the second half of “That Sad,” and their use of the negative space where other instruments or vocals might be is likewise purposeful, but they don’t sound like they’re lacking in terms of arrangements thanks to the malleability of tone and tempo throughout. They operate in a familiar sphere, but there’s persona here that will come to fruition as they proceed.
Death-sludge and post-metallic lumber ooze forth from the five songs of Harvest of Ash‘s second full-length, Castaway, which keeps its atmospheric impulses in check through grounded riffing and basslines as the whole band takes straightforward nod and extreme metal methodologies and smashes them together in a grueling course like that of “Embracing.” Remember in like 1996 when a band like Skinlab or Pissing Razors could just make you feel like you needed to take a shower? There’s a bit of that happening on Castaway as well in the opening title-track or the nine-minute “Constellation” later on, what with its second-half murk and strident riff, but a turn to quieter contemplations or a flash of brighter tone, whatever it is that offsets the churn in a given song, gives breadth to all that misanthropic plodding and throaty gurgle. Accordingly, Harvest of Ash end up both aggressive and hypnotic. I’m not sure it is, at least entirely, but Castaway positions itself as post-metal, and if it is, it is its own interpretation of the style’s tropes.
Berlin’s Vlimmer — the solo-project of multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, label head and producer Alexander Leonard Donat — return on a not-surprising quick turnaround from late-’24’s full-length, Bodenhex (review here) with six new tracks that include a Super Furry Animals cover of “It’s Not the End of the World?” and quickly establish a goth-meets-new-wave electro dance melancholy in “Firmament” that gives over to the German-language “Ungleichgewicht,” residing stylistically somewhere between The Cure and krautrock experimentalism. Guitar comes forward in “Friedhofen,” but Donat keeps the mood consistent on Diskomfort where the album ranged more freely, and even as the title-track moves into its finishing wash, the bumout remains. And I don’t know if that’s an actual harpsichord on “Nachleben,” but it’s a reminder that the open arrangements are part of what keeps me coming back to Vlimmer, along with the fact that they don’t sound like anything else out there that I’ve heard, the music is unpredictable, and they take risks in craft.
When Duskhead posted “Two Heads” in December from their The Messenger four-songer EP, it was the first new music from the Netherlands-based rockers in a decade. Fair enough to call it a return, then, as the band — which features members culled from Tank86 and The Grand Astoria — unfurl a somewhat humble in everything but the music 15 minutes of new material. “My Guitar Will Save the Day” answers the Elder-ish vocal melody with a fervent Brant Bjork-style roll, while “Kill the Messenger” cuts the tempo for a more declarative feel and “Searchlights” takes that stomp and makes it swing to round out, some layering at the end feeling like it’s dropping hints of things to come, though one hesitates to predict momentum for a band who just got back after 11 years of silence. Still, if they’re going for it, there’s life in this material and ground to be explored from here. Concept proven. Back to work.
Plenty to hear in The Watcher‘s Cruz Del Sur-issued late-2024 debut Out of the Dark as the Boston unit — not to be confused with San Fran rockers The Watchers — unfurl the Trouble-and-Pentagram-informed take on traditionalist metal. The title-track opens and makes an energetic push while calling to mind ’80s metal in the hook, where “Strike Back” and the lead-heavy “Burning World” emphasize the metal running alongside the doom in their sound. Time for a big slowdown? You guessed it. They fall off the edge the world with “Exiled,” but rather than delve into epic Sabbathianism right then, they break into to the thrashier “The Revelator,” which only gets grittier as it goes. “Kill or Be Killed” and “The Final Hour” build on this vitality before the capper “Thy Blade, Thy Blood” saves its charge for the expected but still satisfying crescendo. Fans of Crypt Sermon and Early Moods will want to take particular note.
Each of the six inclusions on Weed Demon‘s cleverly-titled third long-player, The Doom Scroll, adds something to the mix, so while one might look at the front cover, the Columbus, Ohio, band’s moniker and general presentation and think they’re only basking in weed-worshipping dirt-riffed sludge, that’s not actually the case. Instead, “Acid Dungeon” starts off with dungeon synth foreboding before the instrumental “Tower of Smoke” lulls you into sludgenosis before “Coma Dose” brings deathlier vibes and, somewhere, a guest appearance from Shy Kennedy (ex-Horehound), “Roasting the Sacred Bones” strips back to Midwestern pummel circa 2002 in its stoned Rustbelt disaffection, “Dead Planet Blues” diverges for acoustics and the vinyl-only secret track “Willy the Pimp,” a Frank Zappa cover, closes. By the end of the record, Weed Demon are revealed as decidedly more complex than they seem to want to let on, but I suppose if you’re numbed out on whichever chemical derivative of THC it is that actually does anything, it’s all riffs one way or the other. You want THC-P, by the way. THC-A, the ‘a’ stands for “ain’t about shit.” I’m gonna guess Weed Demon know the difference.
The one-man solo-project of Jon Weisnewski (also of Sandrider, formerly of Akimbo), Nuclear Dudes released the rampaging full-length Boss Blades (review here) in 2023, glorious in both its extremity-fueled catharsis and its anti-genre fuckery. Weisnewski described the seven-song EP Compression Crimes 1 as “a synthwave album, probably,” and he might be right about that, but it’s definitely not just that. “Death at Burning Man” brings unruly techno until it lands in Mindless Self Indulgence pulsations, where “Tomb Crawler” surges near its end with metallic lashing. “Skyship” is so good at being electro-prog it’s almost obnoxious, and that too feels like the point as Weisnewski sees through creative impulses that are so much his own. Sleeper outfit, maybe. Never gonna be huge. But if you can find someone else making this kind of noise, you’re better at the internet than I am.
[*NOTE: It’s not a full-length. It’s one song. I’ve snuck EPs and splits into this feature before, but this is the first single I’ve done in memory in this format. Something new. Big day for me. Thanks for reading.]
Fortunately, it hasn’t been all that long since the last we heard from The Otolith. In September, the Salt Lake City five-piece took part in Desert Records‘ split series, Legends of the Desert, sharing a split LP alongside the also-Utah-based woodsy crunch-blues duo Eagle Twin, for which they presented the first two new songs since their wrenching 2022 debut, Folium Limina (review here). But just because it’s only been a few months doesn’t make the new single “Glimmer” any less welcome.
Released just this past Wednesday, March 5, presumably to get ahead of the somehow-inevitable onslaught of Bandcamp Friday offerings (oh no, more new music! run!) from artists around the world, “Glimmer” didn’t arrive with a ton of fanfare. They posted it on socials, and Blues Funeral Recordings, which also released the full-length and has been behind the band since their inception following the breakup of SubRosa in 2019. Inheriting vocalist/violinists Kim Cordray and Sarah Pendleton, guitarist Levi Hanna and drummer/producer Andy Patterson from that band and bringing in bassist/vocalist Matt Brotherton (Visigoth, Huldra) to complete the lineup, The Otolith captured the flattening resonance of most of its component members’ prior outfit while working pointedly to set out on a new creative path.
“Glimmer,” about which little actual information was posted — one assumes Patterson recorded it both because of how it sounds and because when you have that dude in your band why would you go anywhere else — continues that thread. It is reportedly, “one of their favorite tracks to perform live” — which of course implies the song has been around for some time; it’s not so new they’ve never played it before — and perhaps part of the reason why is for the simple contrast it makes with the rest of the material they’ve released to-date. Part of what The Otolith carried forward on Folium Limina and Legends of the Desert Vol. 4 was the sense of immersion, the otherworldly float of the violins over such crushing tonality, and a patient execution thereof.
I wouldn’t call “Glimmer” gleeful by any means in shirking the norm, because it certainly isn’t a gleeful sound, but the label refers to it as “cathartic” and this too would seem to derive from the band working at a faster pace and with a more immediate structure. I could very easily see standing in front of a stage and having my brain melt out of my ears as The Otolith lay out the dronescape at the start of the song — pure daydream as I’ve not yet been fortunate enough to see The Otolith live — and take it from the quiet guitar that follows and adds one element at a time, the violins, the hissing snares behind, the vocals, the bass, gradually unfolding and piecing itself together with suitable, signature presence before dropping everything but the violins and bass at 1:30, to 10 seconds later where the entire thing explodes into an intense, elephantine lumber. Bass leads through a chugging section and backing growls take their own course in the chorus that follows, violin still bringing melody to the upper frequency echelons of the mix. Just at three minutes in, they switch to more of a foward roll and that brings them to a finish of standalone vocals.
To-date, there has not been such an efficient encapsulation of The Otolith‘s sound — and I’ll drop the caveat that no, they’re not representing the totality of what they do in one sub-four-minute track; up to now, long songs has been part of that same methodology — or the powerful sweep of which their music is capable. The counterargument there is that perhaps until “Glimmer,” being efficient hasn’t been a primary concern for The Otolith nearly so much as building flowing arrangements and highlighting the ambience, emotionality, the depth of their work and the unmitigated heft they keep in reserve for when they need it. On the balance, their vocal harmonies are no less heavy than the guitar, bass or drums that reguarly churn like tectonics to accompany, and the question that “Glimmer” leaves open is if it is a sign of things to come or if this song, born for the stage and perhaps put to tape at the same time as the tracks for the Legends of the Desert split — I don’t know that, hence “perhaps” — the standalone single is less a shift in norms than a purposeful abberation from them, whether it was written ‘to be different’ or not.
The immediacy doesn’t hurt “Glimmer” in the slightest, and The Otolith seem to have zero trouble harnessing a world from a more linear-feeling course, so take it as a win either way. Whether it is a portent or not is academic at least for now, that it exists at all is further case for The Otolith‘s ongoing development moving forward from the less than ideal circumstances of their founding in the dissolution of SubRosa and honoring that past while letting evolution happen on new strides like this. When it was written becomes relevant if one wants to look at “Glimmer” as indication of where The Otolith are headed, but at the risk of sounding like less of a rock-blogger, maybe we can just take a couple days and appreciate it on its own terms while letting its ultimate context in the timeline of the band’s still-hopefully-barely-begun tenure work itself out later, organically. Fair enough.
Whether one basks in the finer details of its mix — that light bass chug in the calm before the storm, hints of tension on the horizon, or the smoothness of the awakening that gets the band to that unleashing point, etc. — or passes through “Glimmer” en route to whatever the next thing may be (I’m not judging; we all have those days), the brevity of the song makes it feel no less declarative, even if some of what’s being declared will have to remain a mystery for the time being.
Either way you go, as always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
—
This weekend, we’re hosting — as is our wont — a cross-family gathering for my wife’s mother’s birthday. It’s a big one, so in a few minutes I’ll wrap this up probably on the quick and get back to cleaning the house. Vacuuming needs to get done. I’ve been in and out all morning, went to the grocery store, took out recycling, vacuumed upstairs yesterday, wiped down the bathroom downstairs and picked up upstairs, will windex the big mirror and the bathroom mirrors, blah blah blah, keeping up on dishes from The Patient Mrs.’ baking, putting the ‘big room’ in order including getting one of the foldout tables that I already forgot once (damn) from the garage and picking up The Pecan’s toys from the living room, along with whatever else. She made a rad tower, did the kid, and I told her it had to come down today, and she was bummed. Nature of the thing.
I have a couple reviews set for next week — Naxatras and Rwake — and a premiere for The Riven, so that should be good. I’m behind on news and everything and Bandcamp Friday is today so I’ve gotten more than a literal 300 emails this morning and it’s 11AM. Not that I’m reading them all, but they still require time and attention both of which are in e’er-dwindling supply.
But that’s the story of it. The Pecan had half-days this past Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, for parent-teacher conferences. I stayed with kiddo while The Patient Mrs. went. She’s doing fine academically, is weird about food and doesn’t want to take off her jacket. I think we’ll end up working an accommodation for extra food time, but if she feels weird about eating in front of people — COMES BY IT HONESTLY — then I’m less certain a decent answer is letting her be the only one still eating after everyone else is done. Teachers are smarter than me though, so I’m sure it’ll work out.
Oh yeah and the world’s horrifying and ending not soon enough. Wouldn’t want to neglect mentioning that just because I’m distracted thinking about how in 25 minutes I need to put syran wrap on a ginger cake. It’s cool, I set an alarm for it.
My sincere best to you and yours. I’m gonna get going on the weekend and take some pictures of that tower before I pull it down, which I promise not to enjoy doing. At all. Have a great and safe couple days. Don’t forget to hydrate, don’t get too stoned at your mother-in-law’s birthday party (maybe talking to myself a little there), and be careful out there because these are stupid, dangerous times. Love as much and as often as you can stand to do so.
And I say this every week, but new shirts are coming soon. April? I said next month last month, but whatever. I think it’s gonna be The Obelisk like Sleep and Black Sabbath Master of Reality logos. Classic stuff but hopefully they can stay up for a while. Will keep you posted.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 10th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Following up their 2022 debut, Ache and Impulse (review here), Salt Lake City atmospheric sludge metallers Harvest of Ash return in March with Castaway. The second LP is self-released from what I can tell, where the first album was out through Horror Pain Gore Death, and is led off by its title-track, which also serves as the first single, introducing the sense of lumber that comes through in the low end to give the entire nigh-on-seven-minute procession a doomlier cast. With Pepper Glass‘ gutturalisms over top, the downer idolatry resonates, but there’s more happening in “Castaway” than defeat as well as it leads into the rest of the album.
And I’m just first-blush in terms of listening, admittedly, but things don’t seem to get any less monstrous after “Castaway” from what I can tell. I’ll hope to have more to come around the release, but March 7 is the date if you’re looking to mark your calendar, and the PR wire brought info and audio to put in your brain:
HARVEST OF ASH: Salt Lake City’s doom trio set to release sophomore LP on March 7th, 2025
The writing and recording of Salt Lake City’s Harvest of Ash second full length album was a dark time for the band. Lineup changes and injuries stopped the band for months at a time. Yet, they took all of this calamity and channeled it into a new album about confronting and overcoming chaos. What they produced is a new album, titled Castaway.
In Castaway, Harvest of Ash has excavated the crevasses of calamity and emerged with an uncompromisingly filthy and punishing, yet skillfully crafted, work.
Lyrically, it charts a journey from self-criticism and feelings of rejection to being happy with who you are and what you have become as a person. A main theme of the work is the idea of amor fati, or love of fate. This is the notion of living life in an authentic way, embracing every decision and path taken – good and bad – as uniquely your own, that you would do everything the same way again. This makes Castaway a deeply personal statement about when you feel the bottom has dropped out of your life, and reclaiming value in yourself during these times.
Salt Lake City’s geography is a study of contrasts. Towering mountains, expressing power and grandeur, meet with desert emptiness – a completely flat limitlessness where barely a shrub is able to grow. Enormous and overwhelming, three-piece doom band Harvest of Ash conjures both the magnificence of mountain ranges and the desolation of barren deserts.
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 24th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Bit of a note to myself on this one, as Salt Lake City doom rockers Moon Wizard released their third full-length, Sirens, early this year and I missed it. Now signed to Hammerheart Records — which makes them labelmates to Castle, Trouble and a broad swath of others — the four-piece will issue Sirens as their label-debut early in 2025, giving those like me a year-later chance to get on board with the bluesy melody and metal-rooted grooves, riff worship and engaging procession across songs like “Mothership” and “Desert Procession,” the band playing to style but not without a corresponding individuality in their persona. If you haven’t heard Sirens yet either — how fortunate for us that music doesn’t have an expiration date — you’ll find the stream at the bottom of this post, following the announcement from Hammerheart as snagged from social media.
There’s a lot here to dig, and I’m not about to hold you up from it. Or myself, for that matter. Let’s dive in:
Moon Wizard sign to Hammerheart Records for their debut album “Sirens” on CD and LP in january!
Praise the Almighty Riff! Triumphant, gorgeous, heavy and powerful Stoner Metal.
Moon Wizard’s “Sirens” has triumphant, gorgeous and powerful Stoner Metal vocals and instrumental hooks that’re anthemic and addicting and totally worth every minute. Just melodic, heavy Stoner Metal goodness and overall, a sweet atmosphere. Makes sense this album is titled “Sirens” as they’re known to have alluring voices.
Moon Wizard, formed by longtime friends Aaron, Joe, and Ashton, emerged from their Black and Death Metal roots to craft a unique blend of Doom and Stoner metal. After debuting with their self-titled album in 2018, the band added Chicago vocalist Sami Wolf in 2020, bringing a new dimension to their sound. “Sirens” is showcasing their continued evolution and setting the stage for what’s next.
[Click play above to stream Legends of the Desert Vol. 4 by Eagle Twin and The Otolith in its entirety. The split LP is out this Friday, Sept. 20, on Desert Records.]
With two different visions of ‘heavy’ meeting an expanded definition of ‘desert’ on Legends of the Desert Vol. 4, the ongoing Desert Records split series is something of a heady affair in concept, but once you put it on, I promise you none of that matters. Instead, where the listener’s focus is likely to be is on the tense, roiling crush of Eagle Twin‘s “Horn vs. Halo,” the first of just four tracks on the 39-minute LP shared with fellow Salt Lake City denizens The Otolith.
Each band presents two songs — one on either side of 11 minutes and one between eight and nine; neither is a stranger to working in longer forms — and the arrangement of them has it that the 11:39 “Horn vs. Halo” (both longest inclusion and opener; immediate points) and The Otolith‘s “Phosphene Dream” (10:49) both bookend the proceedings and provide the bulk of the outing itself, though that’s not to say either Eagle Twin‘s “Qasida of the Dark Dove” (8:28) or The Otolith‘s “Crossway” (8:53) is somehow lacking in presence or impact. Indeed, “Qasida of the Dark Dove” in its second half ends up in a twisting, writhing solo section that seems to be trying to pull itself free as it splits into angles and crash, guitarist Gentry Densley departing the central nod set to march by drummer Tyler Smith only to return with another gutted-out verse after, engrossing in volume and tone.
Eagle Twin‘s mountainous doom blues and The Otolith‘s violin-laced post-metallic expanses make a resounding pair. For the duo, it’s their first studio offering since 2018’s third full-length, The Thundering Heard (Songs of Hoof and Horn) (review here), while The Otolith — the lineup of vocalist/violinist Sarah Pendleton, violinist/vocalist Kim Cordray, guitarist/vocalist Levi Hanna, bassist/vocalist Matt Brotherton and drummer Andy Patterson, the latter of whom also recorded both bands at his The Boar’s Nest studio in SLC — arrive to the Legends series on the heels of their stunning 2022 debut LP, Folium Limina (review here), having emerged in 2019 following the breakup of members’ former outfit, SubRosa.
As a result of the fact that both bands recorded in the same place with the same producer, again, Patterson, the stark, vocal-topped crashes near the beginning of “Phosphene Dream,” given texture through the violins wistful, evocative melodies echoing out, feel kin to Eagle Twin in the setting of the split here, and though there marked differences between the guitar/drums duo and the string-inclusive five-piece, they share a penchant for massive underlying groove, and Legends of the Desert Vol. 4 takes shape around that center. As much as the differences in aesthetic and playing style between The Otolith and Eagle Twin are highlighted in the material, there’s a sense of joint intention throughout that would seem to be rare given that most splits don’t happen between acts from the same place or working in the same studio.
This only makes Legends of the Desert Vol. 4 more fluid as “Qasida of the Dark Dove” lumbers to its finish of low riffs and full-sounding crash and The Otolith‘s “Crossway” picks up with an initial shove before unfolding its rolling verse likewise leant flow and tension by the bowed strings as it moves through its early verses. The five-piece are well in their element as they move steadily through a quieter midsection and later explosive return, arranging melodic vocals from Pendleton and Cordray against the growls of Hanna and/or Brotherton, stately and consuming, somewhat in contrast to the rawer burl of Eagle Twin, but again, drawn together by the production and the general will toward aural heft. That is to say, each band is given a showcase for their craft and though they share some aspects, they also each make their own impression on the listener, whether that’s through arrangement or atmosphere.
Hearing it front to back — and it’s 2024, I think we can admit that while vinyl may be a dominant physical media, most people’s actual-listening happens digitally; if that’s saying the quiet part loud, fine — Eagle Twin and The Otolith complement each other more than they juxtapose, as the latter take ambience born out of Densely and Smith‘s guttural undulations and expand upon as though surfacing from underground and taking flight. Eagle Twin, then, are dug in, and their tracks offer the audience a chance to position themselves likewise, righteous stops and thuds in “Horn vs. Halo” topped by Densely‘s characteristically throaty vocals and wrought to a self-aware effect en route to a nod and stop at 5:15 from which the song resumes in furious fashion.
For their just-two-dudes makeup and the comparatively minimal guitar and drums in “Horn vs. Halo” and “Qasida of the Dark Dove,” their dynamic resonates through changes in volume and tempo, and the linear course they follow is a further parallel to The Otolith. As “Phosphene Dream” rises from its rumbling beginning of synth and bass or guitar (whichever it is) before the violins enter ahead of the first drum crashes, it too makes a stop in the middle, holding for a stretch of minimalist standalone guitar and backing wisps behind harmonized vocals. That this moment’s pause is (a:) not actually a pause, (b:) gorgeous and (c:) sad, won’t be a surprise to anyone who took on Folium Limina — if that’s not you, it’s not too late to do so — but the weight thrown in the crescendo, growls included, precedes the melancholic string-led finish with a grace that one can only hope foreshadows further progression to come as The Otolith continue their path and distinguish themselves from members’ previous work together as they inevitably will and already are.
So what do we learn? One might take comfort in finding out that six years after their last album, Eagle Twin have lost none of the force behind their take, and that two years on from their debut, The Otolith remain vivid and forward-thinking in their approach to steamrolling their listenership. There’s an entire separate essay to be (probably not) written as to the interplay of gender happening across the two sides, but these are welcome lessons, and Legends of the Desert Vol. 4 is not only a striking entry into the series that has already featured the likes of desert rock progenitors Fatso Jetson as well as Lord Buffalo, Dali’s Llama and others, but a new level for it in terms of conceptualism and profile, writing a new and increasingly complex legend and ultimately broadening what ‘desert’ means in a sonic context.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 22nd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Desert Records comes back strong with the next installment of its ongoing Legends of the Desert split series, going high-desert with the mountainous sounds of The Otolith and Eagle Twin, both based in Salt Lake City, Utah. The pairing, well, rules. Eagle Twin‘s last album, The Thundering Heard (Songs of Hoof and Horn) (review here), came out in 2018, while The Otolith‘s debut, Folium Limina (review here), showed up in 2022, through Southern Lord and Blues Funeral, respectively. But neither is an album-a-year-type outfit, so the fact that they’ve joined forces for Legends of the Desert Vol. 4 is pretty special even before you get to the music. Not the kind of thing that would happen every day, is what I’m saying.
Preorders will run through Kickstarter starting on Friday (July 26), and while there’s no audio yet, the release date of Sept. 20 has been set. Glad to have an excuse to revisit records from both Eagle Twin and The Otolith today (see the bottom of the post) in the meantime, and looking forward to what’s coming.
The text and images are courtesy of Desert Records:
LEGENDS of the DESERT: Volume 4 Featuring EAGLE TWIN and THE OTOLITH
We couldn’t be more honored and excited to announce that our flagship split series is back 🌵This time with two of Utah’s heavyweights!
🏜️On Friday, July 26th the Kickstarter campaign begins.
Eagle Twin is an American metal band formed in Salt Lake City, Utah by singer/guitarist Gentry Densley and drummer Tyler Smith. Eagle Twin’s music could be broadly classified as doom metal or sludge metal, but also touches on progressive rock, blues rock, jazz fusion and psychedelic rock, featuring lengthy instrumental passages and Densley’s gruff, half-chanted vocals, which occasionally veer into overtone singing.
When celebrated Salt Lake City band SubRosa announced its breakup in 2019, the heavy music community felt the loss of their uniquely elegant and intensely heavy atmospheric doom devotionals. Rather than wonder what velvet darkness might still await, however, four of SubRosa’s members swiftly emerged as a new entity called The Otolith. Following the same muse of cataclysmic melancholy, The Otolith is here to encircle you in the fire of their passion for heavy music.
Album Art and Layout by Joshua Mathus @joshuamathusart Eagle Twin photo by Russel Albert Daniels The Otolith photo by the band
Eagle Twin – Side A “Horn Vs. Halo” (11:39) “Qasida of the Dark Dove” (8:28)
The Otolith – Side B “Crossway” (8:53) “Phosphene Dream” (10:49)
LIMITED EDITION VINYL LPs 100 Copper Nugget 100 Side A / Side B Orange and Baby Blue 100 Jade Green
20 Test Pressings 30 12×12 Screen Prints 50 Limited Edition CD’s 10 ZLATOROG: The Golden Horn Fuzz “Gentry Densley Signature” from Black Harbor Sounds. Built by Fowl Sounds.
Recorded, Mixed, and Mastered by Andy Patterson at The Boar’s Nest Studio, Salt Lake City, UT
EAGLE TWIN: Gentry Densley – guitar/vocals Tyler Smith – drums
THE OTOLITH: Kim Cordray – Violin, Vocals Levi Hanna – Guitar, Vocals Andy Patterson – Drums, Percussion Matt Brotherton – Bass Guitar, Vocals Sarah Pendleton – Violin, Lead Vocals
Posted in Questionnaire on April 1st, 2024 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Joey Toscano of Iota
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
In order of priority, I live a life and then I write songs about it. Art comes out of living, so I don’t put music above everything else, or try to live by some fixed identity like, “I’m a musician”. I observe my own living and mindstream within this absurd world — experiencing the suffering and the joy just like everyone else — doing my best to fully experience, equally, the mundane and the extraordinary, though I don’t claim to be exceptionally good at that part. And then out of that, at the very bottom of the funnel, there just happens to be a preference for communicating and sharing it via music/sound. It’s all play and pretend.
I’ve come to it in different ways between 10yo, 20yo, and so on. Very recently, I’ve come to do what I’m doing now because a friend asked me to play the leads on a record he wrote. I wasn’t very active at that point, but found motivation in wanting to help a friend realize his musical vision. That in turn lead me to being inspired to finish an album that’d been sitting on the shelf for a few years. Then that lead to inspiration for writing another album. Interconnectivity and an infinite web of new starting
points.
Describe your first musical memory.
Probably about 5 years old, I’d pretend our vacuum cleaner was a microphone—singing along to mom’s Journey and Michael Jackson records. I’d also spend hours just flipping through the records, soaking in the cover art. Lots of CCR, Beatles, Elton John, Neil Young. That’s what I remember being in her collection.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
I’ll go with the first record I ever connected with on a level that had me obsessed with listening to it all day, every day. That moment when you’re a kid and you get your first Walkman. Just completely absorbed in the music and your own emotional world. Pissing off your parents because you can’t hear anything they’re saying. That seems to be where everything has sprung from.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Great question. I’d say it’s usually when I put my head on the pillow at night. Not every night, but that’s the typical scenario. It’s when the realization hits hardest that something I was clinging to or arguing about so intensely doesn’t really matter at all. All the plans I was making, all the mundane things I thought I wanted to align myself with. All of it just vapor. I used to firmly believe that life is just a straight line, but over the last 10 years or so, I’ve experienced some things that have shaken that belief and I realize now that it’s something much different than that. I have faith that most of our beliefs are bullshit.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Well, if done with the right intention, I think perhaps enlightenment? Or at least towards a clearer, more positive understanding of one’s perceived self and their place in the world. An understanding of how your chosen craft can be of benefit to others is critical. I like that Japanese term, Shokunin. Such a great concept for artist progression. Whether you’re a mechanic, electrician, chef, writer, accountant or musician. You have a responsibility to master your craft. And in turn, you benefit someone else with that mastery. I could be misinterpreting it, but that’s how I understand it. If you put the mastery of your craft into that perspective, then the ego will eventually dissipate.
How do you define success?
A relative state of being where one has stabilized in genuine peace of mind and happiness, regardless of their situation.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Seeing my dog get run over.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I fantasize about doing movie soundtracks, though everyone I know who’s done it tells me it’s usually an excruciating process.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Essential function is to teach us about ourselves. That doesn’t make the artist the teacher, though. How we perceive art says more about us than it does the creator. If something disgusts us, we should ask ourselves why. Same goes for when something elates us. This is why the same piece of art can have so many different meanings.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
It will sound really boring but I look forward to doing absolutely nothing and being completely content about it
