As a young scribliong, my very first exposure to music that could be deemed "heavy" was my father's Black Sabbath collection. Indeed, the opening cough on "Sweet Leaf," and subsequent sweet-ass riffage, was the clarion call of my youth. This appreciation for the low, slow, and psychedelic as a child has only grown to this day, and, more often than not, I'm quite comfortable strolling the pastures of stoner rock, doom, heavy psych, and affiliated genres.
As such, premiering a track from Burning Sister's forthcoming self-titled EP was a bit of a no-brainer. This self-declared "mile high downer rock" trio from Denver plays in an admittedly crowded field, but possess a unique ability to balance a simultaneously mellow and energetic quality. I'll blather on further soon enough, but before you're scared away, check out the excellent "Lord of Nothing" below!
In the grand scheme of riff-worship, a cover doesn't get much more salient than Sabbath's 1971 classic "Lord of This World"--a highlight track on an album crammed full of 'em. It's a track that Magnetic Eye Record's upcoming Best of Black Sabbath tribute compilation would, frankly, be incomplete without.
But, perhaps most importantly, it's a track deserving of a band worthy to shoulder the monstrous mantle. Howling Giant is without a doubt such a band, and we slumbering scribes are honored to premiere here today their stellar take on "Lord of This World." Give it a listen below! We'll meet you on the other side.
While we Villagers have, alas, never had the good fortune of encountering a Tyrannosaurus Rex (or similar 'saurus) in the imposing flesh, today's offering provides the closest sonic equivalent the musical 'verse could possibly spawn. Enter Titanosaur, a one-man band from Hudson, NY. Over the course of a couple of albums, this guy practically exudes destructive coolness in a fashion only befitting the titular 30,000lb behemoth. Titanosaur, in other words, possesses some notable swagger and a fearsome bite.
Titanosaur plays a self-reported "dash of Monster Magnet, pinch of Red Fang, large dose of Motorhead, and some Ramones for good taste, all poured over a bed of Black Sabbath." While such a wide bibliography of legendary acts all-to-oft feels like wishful thinking, I'm happy to report that all of these influences have made a clear mark on today's artist (and track!) From the whiskey-n-cigarette vocals, to the thundering drums, to the simple-yet-monolithic riffage, there's a clear stoner/desert rock grit on display, swaddled in a punky 'tude and doomy heft.
But! Lest I give it all away here, I wholeheartedly recommended checking out "Deceiver" below. As always, we'll meet ya on the other side!
Disillusioned as I am, this particular scribe simply won't consider a day complete unless it involves a good ol' depressive existential spiral. This routine harrowing glimpse into the bleakness of my future and the future of my future children requires, of course, an apt soundtrack, and I'm quite certain a sizable contingent of our readership would consider death doom a poor choice. In any case: the yard-long stare is engaged and the tears are primed to flow, so let's tuck in, shall we?
Today, we are pleased to premiere a bangin' single from The Encompassing Nothing, the debut EP of Arizona's foreboding one-man Thorn. Comprised solely of the guitarist from sci-fi grindcore oufit Xeno Ooze (a band we love 'round these parts) and GLITTERBOMB (a harsh noise project with which we were shamefully unfamiliar,) a little extremity is to be expected, albeit in a significantly more cavernous end of the musical spectrum. Thorn plays a hearty conglomerate of bituminous doom and paleolithic death--not the most original take, sure, but certainly a high-quality paragon of the style. It's low, slow, somber, menacing, and coated in a dank grotto patina--or, in lieu of adjectives, just imagine the sonic representation of the album artwork before ye.
Without further ado, check out "Fields Of Blight" below!
We slumbering peasantry tend to grumble and complain about the back-breaking labor involved in this review-writin' trade, but this profession isn't marked solely by a surplus of sweat and tears. When encountering hordes of new music and bands on a daily basis, there are many moments of pure and unbridled excitement--and nothing is more invigorating than a brand new band that positively reeks of potential. Such is the case with today's (one man!) crew in question: Philadelphia's Mothman and the Thunderbirds. The sheer fact alone that this single track has garnered a bevy of reviews from our neighboring blogs and publications should be indication of the promise, and we haven't even got to the damn music yet.
To review such a track is exciting, but to premiere one is a genuine honor. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, give "Nomad" a listen below! We'll meet ye on the other side.
I obviously don't know about the particulars of your, well, particular locale, but this afternoon at Ye Olde Sleeping Village, feels like the first real summer day of the year. The sun is out. It's hot, and bright, and sweaty as hell. As such, because I enjoy aesthetic uniformity (perhaps a tad too much,) a soundtrack to fit said atmosphere would do nicely.
Enter Veins of Mosquito, a Floridian instrumental outfit that boasts a self-described sound ranging from "psychedelic to hard rock to grunge." These guys have put out several albums over the past few years, and have a new one on the way--arriving, in fact, tomorrow, May 25th. Immediately preceding said release is the excellent "Celebration," the track leering before ye now. For those unfamiliar with their earlier output, "Celebration" (and, one can only presume, Hemogoblin as a whole,) has a significantly crisper feel--still grungy, still damp, but a little cleaner cut 'round the edges. It's a great track, and before drive you away with incessant chatter, I highly recommend you give it a listen below!
Like many, I often don't what I want until it stands immediately before me, like unto a shining beacon of clarity. Such was the case with To The Grave and Into the Wastland, the first two releases from Telepath. Said EPs combine a glorious bevy of sounds that I have genuinely never encountered in conjunction, despite having taken a decent number of strolls around the block. For a baseline, let's just say we're dealing with groovy doom with hefty synth and Giallo soundtrack influences. It's like if Pentagram and Perturbator had a leather-clad lovechild. It's like if a Fabio Frizzi enthusiast grew up on steady diet of 80's slasher flicks and 80's b-list heavy metal. Think Warlord or Brocas Helm. It is, in other words, a delightfully strange mix. Telepath is innovative in an exceptionally pure manner. This whole experiment sounds fresh, and it makes for a wonderful break from the norm.
Otherwise part of the prog rockin' White Willow and art-poppin' The Opium Cartel, Norwegian-Israeli multi-instrumentalist one-man mastermind Jacob Holm-Lupo embodies an eclectic and adventurous foray into the joyous possibilities of genre-bending composition. Thus, as a scribe at this humble establishment, my biggest regret this year is not affording Telepath suitable time in our tepid limelight. Needless to say, we're pleased and honored to premiere his latest single here today.
We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a highfalutin peasantry.
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