Posted in audiObelisk on February 12th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
North Carolinian heavy progressive cosmic rockers Voidward will release their new three-songer, Occult Symmetry, on Feb. 21. As the follow-up to their 2022 self-titled LP (review here), the 19-minute outing is of course less substantial in runtime, but as the premiering-A/V-below lead cut “Light Rider” (4:33) — followed immediately by “Dark Miracle” (4:49) with “Plowman (Transmission to the Limerent Object)” (9:50) rounding out — demonstrates, the band are continuing to grow and develop their sound. Worth noting is that Occult Symmetry, in addition to the self-titled, also follows the Nov. 2024 four-song outing, The Plowman 11th Anniversary Series Macro-Single, which took the original “The Plowman” from the band’s 2013 debut EP, Knives, and reinterpreted it across four different versions, the first and most limerent of which is shared with the new EP as well.
That all gets kind of complex, and even more so when one considers Knives‘ foundation in black metal and sludge, but in the ensuing 12 years, Voidward have become a different band. Tonally, Occult Symmetry is less metal even than was the self-titled, and the guitar is able to reach that much farther in “Plowman” or “Dark Miracle” for that, the latter an intended complement to “Light Rider” and the redux’ed former standing on its own in runtime and maybe on side B of an imaginary 10″, if you prefer to think of it that way. There’s still plenty of distorted buzz, but the vocals lean more toward heavygaze and spaceprog than the rasp of the original “The Plowman,” and the intention feels more toward fluidity and a Pallbearer-esque wistful vocal melodicism takes hold amid the post-midsection chug. To compare, “Light Rider” tells its story in start-stop declarations drawing from and mellowing-out classic metal with a gentle push of groove in the chorus. There’s plenty of presence, no shortage of tonal weight, but “Light Rider” could just as easily be named for the fashion in which it carries its hook across to the listener. Verse, chorus, verse, chorus, shred, chorus, end — it’s pretty straight-ahead in terms of structure, and though it has its own procession, “Dark Miracle” is a suitable companion piece, like weirder, more patient Danava on a trip of ’70s/’80s metallurgy. Catchy like Scorpions, it is.
It’s all part of a plan the Durham-based trio are unfolding. I won’t pretend to understand it; hell, on my first read of the press release below, I thought Occult Symmetry was a three-song full-length, so there’s my depth of knowledge for you. As you can see, it’s kind of cryptic, but whatever The Void Cycle might be, Occult Symmetry is positioned as a “prelude” to it, and what comes through clearly in these tracks is the ongoing growth and exploration being undertaken by the band. This is an evolutionary process playing out in their songwriting that’s audible across their releases to-date, and their willingness to revisit older material with a fresh emotion and perspective speaks to the open nature of their creativity that’s let them evolve in the first place. They have chased their sound to this point; I will not speculate where it might lead them from here, whether that’s a second album or not.
“Light Rider” premieres on the players below, audio and video, followed by more from the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Voidward, “Light Rider” video premiere
Voidward, “Light Rider” track premiere
Hailing from Durham, NC, the mysterious Voidward embraces all that is heavy, wrangling relentless riffs against swirling rhythms through shimmering psychedelia. High concept/low brow guitar+bass+drum epics with vivid vocal melodies and harmonies.
‘Occult Symmetry’ is a fully realized composition, divided into two movements: Light Rider and Dark Miracle. Light Rider and Dark Miracle are two entities engaged in a timeless orbit throughout existence, forever compelled and eternally repulsed by the same desire: Completion in the presence of one another. The Void Cycle is an epic poem describing the culmination of The Void as we know it in the separation of LightRider and Dark Miracle. Occult Symmetry is the prelude to The Void Cycle.
Preceding Occult Symmetry, Voidward released The Plowman 11th Anniversary Edition including a special Desert Bloom edition!
This version of The Plowman is the second installment in the Voidward Macro-Single Series. This is a series of re-inventions on the theme of The Plowman from The knives EP, and when complete, 11 editions of the Plowman will be available through various formats. This is the 11th Anniversary Edition, made available for a limited time to commemorate the upcoming Micro-Album “Occult Symmetry”
The Plowman 11th Anniversary Edition is the response to the initial call of The Void. The mysteries of Occult Symmetry are ahead. The Plowman knows the way.
The Void is heavy, both as a concept and an entity. Voidward is the only way we can experience that heaviness in our current state of consciousness. Sound is the only medium we have access to that, like The Void, is both physical and metaphysical.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 14th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
If you’re skimming through the below and find yourself a little crossed up, the deal is this: Voidward have a new release coming out. It follows their 2022 self-titled (review here), is called Occult Symmetry, and is being released Feb. 21.
In addition to this, they’ve also got a four-songer called The Plowman 11th Anniversary Edition (streaming below) that takes the opening track from the band’s original 2013 debut EP, Knives, and expands on it in multiple directions and with varied intent in atmosphere and volume. The band have said they want to do revisit the entire EP this way, which is kind of an otherworldly undertaking, but far be it from me to complain.
The ‘macro-single,’ as they’ve dubbed it, is a fascinating project, but don’t be confused into thinking that (presumably any of the versions of) “The Plowman” will make it to Voidward‘s eventual sophomore full-length. Even so, the spirit of adventure represented here does much to remind of what appealed about the first album ahead of the second, so everything works out one way or the other.
The PR wire has details:
PRESS RELEASE: NC heavy psych band VOIDWARD to release new album February 21st, 2025
Hailing from Durham, NC, the mysterious Voidward embraces all that is heavy, wrangling relentless riffs against swirling rhythms through shimmering psychedelia. High concept/low brow guitar+bass+drum epics with vivid vocal melodies and harmonies.
‘Occult Symmetry’ is a fully realized composition, divided into two movements: Light Rider and Dark Miracle. Light Rider and Dark Miracle are two entities engaged in a timeless orbit throughout existence, forever compelled and eternally repulsed by the same desire: Completion in the presence of one another. The Void Cycle is an epic poem describing the culmination of The Void as we know it in the separation of LightRider and Dark Miracle. Occult Symmetry is the prelude to The Void Cycle.
Preceding Occult Symmetry, Voidward released The Plowman 11th Anniversary Edition including a special Desert Bloom edition!
This version of The Plowman is the second installment in the Voidward Macro-Single Series. This is a series of re-inventions on the theme of The Plowman from The knives EP, and when complete, 11 editions of the Plowman will be available through various formats. This is the 11th Anniversary Edition, made available for a limited time to commemorate the upcoming Micro-Album “Occult Symmetry”
The Plowman 11th Anniversary Edition is the response to the initial call of The Void. The mysteries of Occult Symmetry are ahead. The Plowman knows the way.
The Void is heavy, both as a concept and an entity. Voidward is the only way we can experience that heaviness in our current state of consciousness. Sound is the only medium we have access to that, like The Void, is both physical and metaphysical.
Posted in Radio on September 30th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
As will happen during a Quarterly Review, I’ve sort of found myself thinking there’s a ton of stuff that I don’t want to see get lost in the shuffle, and I’ve decided to focus this episode of The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal on making sure that doesn’t happen.
‘Selections from the QR’ may be the theme here, but what it rounds out to is a cool mix of mostly new music either way. Goes without saying that with 100 releases covered, there was plenty to choose from, and indeed I might end up doing a second of these — it was a two-week Quarterly Review after all, ending today — but if you’ve kept up with that or not, this is a summary of some of what was included. Like the Quarterly Review itself, it’s pretty heavy on vibe and atmosphere, but there are a couple bangers in there too that, along with the rest, I most certainly hope you enjoy.
Thanks if you listen and thanks for reading.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 09.30.22 (VT = voice track)
Mezzoa
Moya
Dunes of Mars
Lightrain
Hyd
AER
Spirit Adrift
Mass Formation Psychosis
20 Centuries Gone
VT
Cachemira
Ambos Mundos
Ambos Mundos
Goatriders
The Garden
Traveler
Garden of Worm
In the Absence of Memory
Endless Garden
Church of the Cosmic Skull
Now’s the Time
There is No Time
Voidward
Chemicals
Voidward
Early Moods
Curse the Light
Early Moods
Maunra
Lightbreather
Monarch
Obiat
Ulysses
Indian Ocean
Reverend Mother
Locomotive
Damned Blessing
Deer Creek
A Dark, Heartless Machine
Menticide
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships
Mystical Consumer
Consensus Trance
Blacklab
Abyss Woods
In a Bizarre Dream
VT
The Gray Goo
Bicycle Day
1943
Les Lekin
Ascent
Limbus
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Oct. 14 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
Posted in Reviews on September 20th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Day two of the Fall 2022 Quarterly Review brings a fresh batch of 10 releases en route to the total 100 by next Friday. Some of this is brand new, some of it is older, some of it is doom, some is rock, some is BongBongBeerWizards, and so on. Sometimes these things get weird, and I guess that’s where it’s at for me these days, but you’re going to find plenty of ground to latch onto despite that. Wherever you end up, I hope you’re digging this so far half as much as I am. Much love as always as we dive back in.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Fu Manchu, Fu30 Pt. 2
Like everyone’s everything in the era, Fu Manchu‘s 30th anniversary celebration didn’t go as planned, but with their Fu30 Pt. 2 three-songer, they give 2020’s Fu30 Pt. 1 EP (posted here) the sequel its title implied and present two originals and one cover in keeping with that prior release’s format. Tracked in 2021, “Strange Plan” and the start-stop-riffed “Low Road” are quintessential works of Fu fuzz, so SoCal they’re practically in Baja, and bolstered by the kinds of grooves that have held the band in good stead with listeners throughout these three-plus decades. “Strange Plan” is more aggressive in its shove, but perhaps not so confrontational as the cover of Surf Punks‘ 1980 B-side “My Wave,” a quaint bit of surferly gatekeeping with the lines, “Go back to the Valley/And don’t come back,” in its chorus. As they will with their covers, the four-piece from San Clemente bring the song into their own sound rather than chase down trying to sound like Reagan-era punk, and that too is a method well proven on the part of the band. If you ever believed heavy rock and roll could be classic, Fu Manchu are that, and for experienced heads who’ve heard them through the years as they’ve tried different production styles, Fu30 Pt. 2 finds an effective middle ground between impact and mellow groove.
Not so much a pendulum as a giant slaughterhouse blade swinging from one side to the other like some kind of horrific grandfather clock, Valborg pull out all the industrial/keyboard elements from their sound and strip down their songwriting about as far as it will go on Der Alte, the 13-track follow-up to 2019’s Zentrum (review here) and their eighth album overall since 2009. Accordingly, the bone-cruncher pummel in cuts like “Kommando aus der Zukunft” and the shout-punky centerpiece “Hektor” is furious and raw. I’m not going to say I hope they never bring back the other aspects of their sound, but it’s hard not to appreciate the directness of the approach on Der Alte, on which only the title-track crosses the four-minute mark in runtime (it has a 30 second intro; such self-indulgence!), and their sound is still resoundingly their own in tone and the throaty harsh vocals on “Saturn Eros Xenomorph” and “Hoehle Hoelle” and the rest across the album’s intense, largely-furious-but-still-not-lacking-atmosphere span. If it was another band, you might call it death metal. As it stands, Der Alte is just Valborg, distilled to their purest and meanest form.
2022 is probably a good year to put out a record based around Frank Herbert’s Dune universe (the Duniverse?), what with the gargantuan feature film last year and another one coming at some point as blah blah franchise everything, but Montreal four-piece Sons of Arrakis have had at least some of the songs on Volume I in the works for the better part of four years, guitarists Frédéric Couture (also vocals) and Francis Duchesne (also keys) handling recording for the eight-song/30-minute outing with Vick Trigger on bass and Eliot Landry on drums locking in tight grooves pushing all that sci-fi and fuzz along at a pace that one only wishes the movie had shared. I’ve never read Dune, which is only relevant information here because Volume I doesn’t leave me feeling out of the loop as “Temple of the Desert” locks in quintessential stoner rock janga-janga shuffle and “Lonesome Preacher” culminates in twisty fuzz that should well please fans of Valley of the Sun before bleeding directly and smoothly into the melodic highlight “Abomination” in a way that, to me at least, bodes better for their longer term potential than whatever happenstance novelty of subject matter surrounds. There’s plenty of Dune out there if they want to stick to the theme, but songwriting like this could be about brushing your teeth and it’d still work.
Voidward‘s self-titled full-length debut lands some nine years after the Durham, North Carolina, trio’s 2013 Knives EP, and accordingly features nearly a decade’s worth of difference in sound, casting off longer-form post-black metal duggery in favor of more riff-based explorations. Still at least partially metallic in its roots, as opener “Apologize” makes plain and the immediate nodder roll of “Wolves” backs up, the eight-song/47-minute outing is distinguished by the clean, floating vocal approach of guitarist Greg Sheriff, who almost reminds of Dave Heumann from Arbouretum, though no doubt other listeners will hear other influences, and yes that’s a compliment. Joined by bassist/backing vocalist Alec Ferrell — harmonies persist on “Wolves” and elsewhere — and drummer Noah Kessler, Sheriff brings just a hint of char to the tone of “Oblivion,” but the blend of classic heavy rock and metal throughout points Voidward to someplace semi-psychedelic but nonetheless richly ambient, and even the most straightforward inclusion, arguably “Chemicals” though closer “Cobalt” has plenty of punch as well, is rich in its execution. They even thrash a bit on “Horses,” so as long as it’s not another nine years before they do anything else, they sound like they can go wherever they want. Rare for a debut.
The second long-player from Long Island, New York’s Indus Valley Kings, Origin brings together nine songs across an expansive 55 minutes, and sees the trio working from a relatively straightforward heavy rock foundation toward more complex purposes, whether that’s the spacious guitar stretch-out of “A Cold Wind” or the tell-tale chug in the second half of centerpiece “Dark Side of the Sun.” They effectively shift back and forth between lengthier guitar-led jams and more straight-up verses and choruses, but structure is never left too far behind to pick up again as need be, and the confidence behind their play comes through amid a relatively barebones production style, the rush of the penultimate “Drowned” providing a later surge in answer to the more breadth-minded unfurling of “Demon Beast” and the bluesy “Mohenjo Daro.” So maybe they’re not actually from the Indus Valley. Fine. I’ll take the Ripple-esque have-riffs-have-shred-ready-to-roll “Hell to Pay” wherever it’s coming from, and the swing of the earlier “…And the Dead Shall Rise” doesn’t so much dogwhistle its penchant for classic heavy as serve it to the listener on a platter. If we’re picking favorites, I might take “A Cold Wind,” but there’s plenty to dig on one way or the other, and Origin issues invitations early and often for listeners to get on board.
Clearly whoever said there were no second chances in rock and roll just hadn’t lived long enough. After reissuing one-upon-a-time Blue Cheer guitarist Randy Holden‘s largely-lost classic Population II (discussed here) for its 50th anniversary in 2020, RidingEasy Records offers Holden‘s sequel in Population III. And is it the work for which Holden will be remembered? No. But it is six songs and 57 minutes of Holden‘s craft, guitar playing, vocals and groove, and, well, that feels like something worth treasuring. Holden was in his 60s when he and Randy Pratt (also of Cactus) began to put together Population III, and for the 21-minute “Land of the Sun” alone, the album’s release a decade later is more than welcome both from an archival standpoint and in the actual listening experience, and as “Swamp Stomp” reminds how much of the ‘Comedown Era’s birth of heavy rock was born of blues influence, “Money’s Talkin'” tears into its solo with a genuine sense of catharsis. Holden may never get his due among the various ‘guitar gods’ of lore, but if Population III exposes more ears to his work and legacy, so much the better.
Gleefully oddball Montana three-piece The Gray Goo remind my East Coast ears a bit of one-time Brooklynites Eggnogg for their ability to bring together funk and heavy/sometimes-psychedelic rock, but that’s not by any means the extent of what they offer with their debut album, 1943, which given the level of shenanigans in 10-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Bicycle Day” alone, I’m going to guess is named after the NES game. In any case, from “Bicycle Day” on down through the closing “Cop Punk,” the pandemic-born outfit find escape in right-right-right-on nods and bass tone, partially stonerized but casting off expectation with an aplomb that manifests in the maybe-throwing-an-elbow noise of “Problem Child,” and the somehow-sleek rehearsal-space funk of “Launch” and “The Comedown,” which arrives ahead of “Shakes and Spins” — a love song, of sorts, with fluid tempo changes and a Primus influence buried in there somewhere — and pulls itself out of the ultra-’90s jam just in time for a last plodding hook. Wrapping with the 1:31 noise interlude “Goo” and the aforementioned “Cop Punk,” which gets the prize lyrically even with the competition surrounding, 1943 is going right on my list of 2022’s best debut albums with a hope for more mischief to come.
Oh, sweet serenity. Maybe if we all had been in that German garden on the day in summer 2020 when Acid Rooster reportedly performed the two extended jams that comprise Ad Astra — “Zu den Sternen” (22:28) and “Phasenschieber” (23:12) — at least some of us might’ve gotten the message and the assurance so desperately needed at the time that things were going to be okay. And that would’ve been nice even if not necessarily the truth. But as it stands, Ad Astra documents that secret outdoor showcase on the part of the band, unfolding with improvised grace across its longform pieces, hopeful in spirit and plenty loud by the time they get there but never fully departing from a hopeful sensibility, some vague notion of a better day to come. Even in the wholesale drone immersion of “Phasenschieber,” with the drums of “Zu den Sternen” seemingly disappeared into that lush ether, I want to close my eyes and be in that place and time, to have lived this moment. Impossible, right? Couldn’t have happened. And yet some were there, or so I’m told. The rest of us have the LP, and that’s not nothing considering how evocative this music is, but the sheer aural therapy of that moment must have been a powerful experience indeed. Hard not to feel lucky even getting a glimpse.
A sophomore full-length from the Dortmund trio of guitarist/synthesist Bong Travolta, bassist/vocalist Reib Asnah and (introducing) drummer/vocalist Chill Collins — collectively operating as BongBongBeerWizards — Ampire is a call to worship for Weed and Loud alike, made up of three tracks arranged longest to shortest (immediate points) and lit by sacred rumble of spacious stoner doom. Plod as god. Tonal tectonics. This is not about innovation, but celebrating noise and lumber for the catharsis they can be when so summoned. Willfully repetitive, primitive and uncooperative, there’s some debt of mindset to the likes of Poland’s Belzebong or the largesse of half-speed Slomatics/Conan/Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard, but again, if you come into the 23-minute leadoff “Choirs and Masses” expecting genre-shaping originality, you’ve already fucked up. Get crushed instead. Put it on loud and be consumed. It won’t work for everybody, but it’s not supposed to. But if you’re the sort of head crusty enough to appreciate the synth-laced hypnotic finish of “Unison” or the destructive mastery of “Slumber,” you’re gonna shit a brick when the riffs come around. They’re not the only church in town, but it’s just the right kind of fun for melting your brains with volume.
Any way you want to cut it with Mosara‘s second album, Only the Dead Know Our Secrets, the root word you’re looking for is “heavy.” You’d say, “Oh, well ‘Magissa’ has elements of early-to-mid-aughts sludge and doom at work with a raw presentation in its cymbal splash and shouted vocals.” Or you’d say, “‘The Permanence of Isolation’ arrives at a chugging resolution after a deceptively intricate intro,” or “the acoustic beginning of ‘Zion’s Eyes’ leads to a massive, engaging nod that shows thoughtfulness of construction in its later intertwining of lead guitar lines.” Or that the closing title-track flips the structure to end quiet after an especially tortured stretch of nonetheless-ambient sludge. All that’s true, but you know what it rounds out to when you take away the blah blah blah? It’s fucking heavy. Whatever angle you’re approaching from — mood, tone, songwriting, performance — it’s fucking heavy. Sometimes there’s just no other way, no better way, to say it. Mosara‘s 2021 self-titled debut (review here) was too. It’s just how it is. I bet their next one will be as well, or at very least I hope so. If you’re old enough to recall Twingiant, there’s members of that band here, but even if not, what you need to know is that Only the Dead Know Our Secrets is fucking heavy. So there.
