After long last, we slumbering peasantry arise from Rip Van Winkle-hood, back with another edition of our neglected Sleeping Village Sampler.
For those of you not in the know, this is our (regrettably infrequent) column wherein we review, in brief, two of the bands that have escaped the clutches of a full length writeup. Usually there is an underlying current, a theme connecting the two. In other words, a method behind the madness. This time, however, all I’ve got is this: both bands featured here today have the word “Serpent” in their name, and they both requested a review on the same damn day. That’s simply too coincidental to neglect, and so here we are. Pull off your boots, pull up a chair, and stay awhile. You may want to check your boots for snakes later on, but that's life.
Written by: Izzy
What does anxiety feel like to you? When your chest tightens up and breathing becomes heavy? Sweat dripping down your neck and your heart beating like a kick drum? Being paralyzed with fear, unable to move, your back becoming heavy and the air around you turning into a thick sludge you can barely drag yourself through? For me, it’s all of the above, because anxiety feels to me like how Body Void sounds.
This Californian drone-punk-sludge-metal-death-crust-doom-core trio creates some of the most viscerally disgusting and hideous sludge in existence, and I have loved them since the second I first heard them. I could go on for hours about my infatuation with their music. However, I would be remiss for not mentioning Keeper as well, despite my unfamiliarity with them. These Cali contemporaries provide the perfect companionship to Body Void here, and are one of the few bands with a comparable style, except with an extra blackened edge, partnering flawlessly with Body Void by adding their own flavour to the split.
Guest Post: Carcassbomb (of Noob Heavy)
Experimentation is my magic word… and my safe word. It’s an approach that can really go anywhere, including some dumb places, but Rat King challenge song writing conventions in a far more subtle way that makes for an interesting listen without alienating fans of experimented genre in anyway. Previously with their 2016 debut LP Garbage Island they had a similarly experimental take on sludge so it’s interesting to see they have taken their approach into the realm of death/grind, a completely different arena. Here’s the thing though, they fucking pulled it off and in my opinion this release is both a better album and a better representation of their signature craft. There’s been an evolution here that I respect and admire. Vicious Inhumanity will be released Jan 17th via their very own label Within The Mind Records, CD, Vinyl and cassette, so dig in mother fuckers. They’re also giving away CDs to two lucky people, entries close on release day so there’s time.
Take even a cursory glance at the gloriously garish cover art before ye, and this much is exceedingly clear: Long Island's own Gorilla Wizard know how to have a good time. Their debut album, Tales From the Cauldron, is a bombastic and rip-roaring piece o' work, through and through. If you're not in the mood for high-energy fun, this wasn't made with you in mind. Don't really know what else to say.
Chunky grooves and contiguously crunchy riffs rule the roost. You know what I'm talkin' about--the kind of sasquatchian chest-beating riffs that lumber into the swamp and then back out again, dripping and covered in gunk, without a goddamn care in the world.
As much of the album operates according to this simple but effective guitar-driven approach, any tracks I would consider standouts simply apply the formula most egregiously. "Smashosaurus," "Maple Crunch," and "Black and Blue" are perhaps the most memorable moments, and the best introduction to Gorilla Wizard's jubilant brand in general.
Captain Graves isn't a new name 'round these parts. We interviewed this extraterrestrial bringer of destruction (in conjunction with Advent Varic) a few weeks back, and I'll be damned if his vision of apocalyptic planetary demise didn't strike a certain nerve. You see, we Villagers appreciate a good turn of phrase, even if the scribe in question is intent on our inevitable violent expiration.
And so we bequeathed The Captain his very own review column within our humble halls. Herein, he'll be chronicling dark and heavy earthly music that suit his judicial tastes. Our time here is limited...so enjoy these recommendations while you still can.
First up: Texas' own Forebode.
Providing thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy, and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a groggy-eyed, highfalutin peasantry.