Written by: Shane Thirteen
I am child of the 70's, born into the world during the height of Martial Arts media mayhem. I was born into a world of ninjas, samurai, and shoguns. By the time the 1980's rolled around, I could reenact battle scenes from the popular mini series Shogun with my friends in the back yard. Chuck Norris and Sonny Chiba were my idols. Every spin kick and sword plunged into the bellies of foes kept me enthralled with all things Japan. As such, when I heard the name of this band, the grin on my face gleamed like a katana being drawn from its scabbard on an ancient battlefield on a bright sunny day. I was not disappointed.
0 Comments
Written by: Volt Thrower
If you want to cook up some hype and expectations for a stoner/desert rock album, Albuquerque desert doom purveyors Red Mesa could do far worse than starting off with features from scene legends Wino and Dave Sherman, of essential acts The Obsessed and Spirit Caravan. Throw in recording and production by Matthew Tobias at Empty House Studio, who has handled massive recording projects like OM/Al Cisneros solo projects. Sprinkle in some mastering by John McBain, original guitarist of Monster Magnet, and baby, you've got a stew going. A stew absolutely bubbling over the brim with sky high expectations. Let's hope it can provide some meaty heartiness, not just a weak broth.
Written by: Volt Thrower
Let's just get this out of the way first: that artwork. Lordy it's stunning, and sets the bar high without a single note even being played. I own this record on vinyl and like 80% of the decision to buy it was based on the artwork alone. Designed by Toronto based tattoo artist Arthur Mills, it perfectly captures the haunting, war-torn, cosmic yet industrial landscape the band lays to waste on their second EP now, Pale Mare II. Pale Mare instantly get compared to High on Fire, which is lofty and can be a bit unfair, but the band themselves don't seem to shy away from the comparison on their bandcamp page. So, lets dig into some High on Fire worship, shall we?
Written by: Volt Thrower
Old sticky beer gripping the bottom of my shoes. Sweaty dudes bumping into me. The crushing weight of Tatsu Mikami’s bass tone laying waste to my chest cavity. Was it all a dream? The last show I went to in the pre-pandemic times was Church of Misery in February, less than three months ago, but it feels like it's been at least three years. The concept of time of has become a black hole since ~March 13th. Anything prior to that date genuinely feels like it's beyond the grasp of memory or record, i.e. Time Immemorial. We’re in unprecedented times, people feel hopeless. Canadian sludgers Heron build atmosphere on the back of hopelessness, and deliver perhaps the most relevant release of 2020.
Written by: Volt Thrower
As a kid the countless hours spent driving under starlit prairie highways in the 90’s, on the way to various campgrounds and theme parks, laid the foundation for desert rock being able to bring a wash of fuzz driven comfort later in life. There’s something incredibly soothing about being able to lose yourself in a locked in groove, essentially time traveling through the hundreds of km’s of nothingness. Heavy rockers Heavy Hands from Boston, take a stab at a classic style with some modern flair with their latest self-released offering “Through the Night.” A rolling drum groove, with some fuzz drenched bass open things up on “Devil Nets”, sure to make Brant Bjork blush. Kicking things off with a nostalgic blast is a great hook, but they build upon that opening, with a really unique sound that the band feels out across the dozen fleeting minutes. The soulful delivery of the vocals on “Villain” really compliment the underlying bass and drum groove, but the guitar is the real scene setter for most of the album. Ranging from bluesy psychedelic washes, to straightforward riffage, to a near black metal tremolo picking style, giving it another layer with a sense of urgency and despair. Lyrical themes starting with, of course a desert highway cruise with your girl, to a poetic exploration of the plight of the never good-enough, ending in a mental “Breakdown.” Clean production wraps it all up into a nice, tight little package. Written by: Volt Thrower Unabashed stoner doom has always been one of my favorite things ever since I first heard Tony Iommi hacking up a lung on "Sweet Leaf," circa grade 9 out back behind the auto shops. But by now, the book on stoner doom has long been written and published. Through the annals of history, an innumerable amount of bands have knelt at the altar to pay homage with their Sabbathian smoke fueled riffage. Cliches, puns and cheesy lyric runs, all a staple of a genre intended for mind bending fun. Hailing from Kiel, Germany, Earthbong bring us their second full length Bong Rites. Will it bring us towards the crimson light, or will it fail to ignite? First impressions are everything in a genre overflowing with copycats, and I was instantly pulled in by the album artwork. It reminds me of Slaves BC cover art, but just splashed with enough purple to remind you that you’re “Goddamn High” while being pummeled to death. The aforementioned album opener starts off with a thunderous intro that seems absolutely blistering in pace after it pulls the rug from beneath you, and you're left trudging through knee deep molasses. A hazy atmosphere built on swirling layers of guitar lulls you into a sense of zen before that too is swallowed whole by the demonic vocals rising from the crust of the earth. Two vocal styles, a Dixie Dave Collins like harsh bark and a barbaric cave-echoing howl, work together to deliver some of the finest dope doom riff worship of the new decade. Written by: Continuous Thunder One of the things that initially drew me to doom metal and stoner rock was the way that the music complemented the aesthetics of one of my favorite sci-fi subgenres: the post-apocalypse. Something about the dark tone of the lyrics and sludgy riffs calls to mind images of blighted landscapes, lone wanderers, lawless lands, and road warriors. It’s especially gratifying when the artists recognize this correlation themselves, look no further than Truckfighters’ “Desert Cruiser” or Wo Fat’s “Lost Highway.” The UK’s Desert Storm also recognize this correlation and lean into it. The music video for “Drifter” off their 2018 release Sentinels is comprised entirely of clips from Mad Max 2. This fascination with the end of days is still present on Omens, their newest release, but this time it’s through the lens of mystical medieval fantasy.
Written by: Volt Thrower
Stoner rockers Psyclops come out of the gates swinging with their debut LP Amalgam. Blending elements of prog, psych, stoner, doom and hardcore, the 4-piece out of Portland, Oregon certainly have created an amalgamation of sorts with their first long offering. What that process of fusion has yielded remains unclear to me, but it is an enjoyable process to figure out. The soft opening instrumental of “Fabricated”, being overlaid with a thunderstorm in the background, does a pleasant job of setting the scene in the Pacific Northwest. A bluesy little riff by guitarist Guerd Alberts gets the party started and we are off to the races with lead vocalist Chris Jackson coming out of his spoken word intro, to guide the band with a howl charged assault. A straightforward rocker comes to a close with a hardcore frantic finish. Before you have time to think about what just happened, the rhythm section of bassist Brandon Peterson and Alex Flatt on drums, are guiding you through the ultra groovy psychedelic intro of the un-googleable track “ ”. Another straightforward if unremarkable groove rocker, which does finish with a nice solo and full band freak out, ending in feedback. Like any good pseudo-medieval village of our size and prosperity, we highfalutin peasants abide by a certain standard of hospitality. For those bands that pass through our palisade time and time again, we gladly offer up a spot at our roughly hewn and ovular-if-not-round table. earthdiver are, without a doubt, such a band within the context of Sleeping Village lore. I personally have been a fan since hearing their rambunctious three-track EP, and was subsequently thrilled to have interviewed 'em. Hell, I'm wearing my earthdiver t-shirt as I scribble away--a pure coincidence born of the reality that I wear this shirt, like, at least once a week. Needless to say, this particular scribe has been very excited for the advent of their all-important debut album, both because I've been itching for new tracks, and because I'm excited for the stoner/doom community to witness the set of chops on this talented trio. The wait is over. Lord of the Cosmos is (almost!) here. Time for that hospitality.
The rubric that plays a major role in determining whether I will consider an album “good” is, as with everything around these parts, a little flexible and open to interpretation. That said, some criteria are fairly stalwart and unmoving. A good metal album must, in my eyes, have proficient instrumentation. It must display cohesion. The vocals need to be enjoyable--or, at the very least, they must spark some synapses other than those indicating that the vocalist in question can’t sing. It needs to elicit some sort of emotion response. Lastly, if it’s steeped in a genre that lives and dies by the axe, its gotta have riffs. Full stop. In the case of today’s artist in question, I’m happy to report that all of the criteria are present and accounted for...no, wait. We’re missing one. But y’know what? Let’s just roll with it.
|
Welcome!
We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a highfalutin peasantry!
|