 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!
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 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! 
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. 
Frequent passers-by through Ye Olde Sleeping Village will (hopefully) have noted by this stage that I enjoy when bands toe the line of convention. Indeed, I celebrate when a group throws in the towel and lets deliberate genre-melding lead the process. As such, when Yukonian one-man musical maverick Rick Massie approached us highfalutin peasants with the idea of premiering his forthcoming debut album, all it took to seal the deal (besides, of course, sampling a track) was the promise of genre tomfoolery. In his words, Eclispe is "kind of a mix of everything from prog, to symphonic, to black, to death, to doom-ish, to rock." That's a Now, dear readers, we're talkin' my language.
But let's cut to the chase, shall we? Today, it's our absolute pleasure to present Rick Massie's Eclipse in its unadulterated and unabridged entirety, prior to its release this Friday, May 1st. Before we get too far absorbed in the details, hit play on the stream below. I'll meet you on the other side. |
Welcome!We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a highfalutin peasantry. What are ye
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