When told that a band pride themselves in being part of the psychedelic rock scene, certain images come to mind almost instantly; from acid to colourful retro art to funky sunglasses – the point being, this is a scene very much rooted in the past and an era almost incomprehensible to some.Continue reading
New Dutch band Dool are here with their début Here Now, There Then (Prophecy Productions), and while they may not be a super-group per se, this group definitely comprises a bunch of experienced musicians. With the rhythm section formed by drummer Micha Haring and bassist Job van de Zande, formerly of Occult Metal band The Devil’s Blood, and guitars provided by Nick Polack (Gold) and Reinier Vermeulen (The New Media), musically this band is set up for great sound in a variety of genres.Continue reading
Desertfest Antwerp takes place this weekend in Belgium, at the legendary Trix Club. Named for the distinct cult style of California’s Palm Desert style of rock, doom, and psychedelic influences, pioneered in the 90s by bands like Kyuss, Acid King, Fu Manchu, Goatsnake, Monster Magnet, 60 Watt Shaman and more. The fest itself and its related other events represent the best in underground culture, with music ranging from stoner rock, doom, indie bands, and other styles to please fans of discerning taste. Ghost Cult’s Susanne A. Maathuis, who is covering the fest this weekend for us had some questions for Dimitri Vossen – one of the organizers of the fest. Continue reading
For the last three years, Scottish based, but Brighton born Fvnerals have been honing their art, an often beguiling mix of ethereal and claustrophobic. The band live in that dark and often unforgiving hinterland of emotional and oppressive soundscapes which can either sound like utterly pretentious cobblers or deeply moving and affecting fayre, dependent on your point of view.Continue reading
A cosmic haze surrounds everything from Texan duo Wo Fat: their chunky, thunderous rhythms swelled by fizzing riffs as suffocating, as implosive, as the vacuum of space. Despite having lost long-time bassist Tim Wilson, sixth long-player Midnight Cometh (Ripple Music) shows no signs of that trait discontinuing.
Though unabashedly Stoner, the Blues melodies and leads of opener ‘There’s Something Sinister in the Wind’ are shot through with added pace, urgency, and no little mysticism, blowing away the blubber often encasing such offerings. Sure, you could hear this kind of stuff down the local Rock pub but not with this power, this weight. The way the dreamy leadwork joins forces with a tight, rampant rhythm section from the mid-point is joyous: whilst the oscillating riff of the denouement, repetitive and swelling, crushes in indolent yet savage fashion.
‘Riffborn’ again provides nothing new, while Kent Stump’s gnarled vocal doesn’t incite the listener to any high emotion. Yet there’s something strangely electric, even comforting, in the fact that such traditional Heavy Rock can still force you to get down and boogie. Stump’s guitarwork is king here, the leads and riffs duelling with lightning dexterity yet retaining their corpulent girth. ‘Of Smoke and Fog’ meanwhile, creates atmospheres in keeping with its title: leads wailing and growling, permeating vaporous wisps as the cabs groan beneath the volume: whilst a rumbling bass and Michael Walter’s drums gradually creep in like a curious rhino, suddenly appearing and looking a little mad to see you on his territory.
That 70s Rock undercurrent is built to the fore during ‘Le Dilemme de Detenu’ and ‘Three Minutes to Midnight’: a shabby, hairy mob on The Old Grey Whistle Test embodied by the harsh, ZZ Top-style verses. Both tracks are enlivened by those fierce guitars, the latter’s moody centrepiece torn to shreds by a dazzling solo. Closer ‘Nightcomer’ meanwhile, is a Psychedelic crush of threatening Groove and pulsing swell that leads to a suitably huge finale.
Comparisons with both Kyuss and Orange Goblin abound for these guys, yet Wo Fat plough their own reverberating furrow. Sometimes the old-fashioned ways are still exciting.
7.0/10.0
PAUL QUINN
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The eponymous debut album from London-based quartet Elephant Tree (Magnetic Eye Records) is graced by a sitar, no less, and is a bewitching amalgam of crushing weight and heartfelt melody. Its riffs akin to having both an elephant and a tree dropped upon you simultaneously, it nevertheless possesses a light dexterity which allows them to sashay gracefully through your ears.
‘Wither’ sees said riff growl, moan and howl along a wicked, lazy groove. The beauty here is in the decoration, the Low-end melancholy garnished with wistful, dreamy overlays: a solo oscillating through the mind, the Psychedelic vocals and atmosphere introducing Jar of Flies-era Alice in Chains to San Francisco trippers Sleepy Sun. Lead release ‘Dawn’, meanwhile, allies a filthy Stoner element to a Jon Davis-like scream.
The variety of the early stages is an absolute joy to behold: the hippy acoustic whimsy of ‘Circles’ sends those of us who grew up cocooned in Americana right back to the late 60s we yearn for. The riff of the ensuing ‘Aphotic Blues’ is so encompassing, pulverising, that this pleasant reverie is squashed like a bug: the crushing Sabbath-esque stomp still possessing enough cosmic, acid-drenched languor to keep the remains floating on air toward a vicious, pulsating close. ‘Echoes’, meanwhile, lends a 10CC mellowness to the bluesy notes and warm production before exploding in an Uncle Acid-like fuzz, its gentle mid-section bubbling beautifully.
It’s the juxtaposition between power and dreamy insouciance which is the real hallmark of this enthralling set. The titanic, warbling riff of ‘Fracture’ growls and crawls along like a sated behemoth while indolent, sleepy vocals caress its wounds. It’s a glorious feel, a heady atmosphere reeking of both patchouli oil and Kula:Shaker’s eastern melodies and rhythms, yet full of an easy vitality. This is all wonderfully brought together in the monolithic, drifting closer ‘Surma’, its moving, driving solos riding a trammelling riff toward a delicate coda of piano.
Fresh as a breeze, heavy as a mountain troll, and bloody addictive, even at this early stage Elephant Tree will sit atop a few weighty lists come the end of the year.
8.0/10.0
PAUL QUINN
I first saw Croydon bludgers Slabdragger three years ago and, having been completely flattened by their bone-crunching resonance, immediately bought first album Regress (Holy Roar Records). Despite it being good, I subsequently felt they were a band to be witnessed rather than merely heard.That all changes here. Sophomore long-player Rise of the Dawncrusher (Holy Roar Records) is a mammoth, sprawling journey through the black holes of the cosmos, an achievement all the more amazing given the setbacks the band has suffered in recent years. The musical twangs of opener ‘Mercenary Blues’ carry enough portent to warn of the forthcoming walls of forest-levelling sound and, despite the melodic hollers of Yusuf Tary and Jim Threader, the ensuing riff grabs your soul and sticks it in a blender. Stoner-Sludge in tone and feel yet Psychedelic in its warping terror, the difference here is the wonderfully enlivening, Progressive nature of the linking passages: versatile verses with vocal switches between Blackened screams and guttural roars, still underpinned by the cavernous yet occasionally cascading stellar pathway.
Whatever Slabdragger had before, the ability to flick such a heavy pattern through the chords has multiplied their appeal tenfold. With four of the five tracks here easily surpassing the ten-minute mark, the listener is in for the long haul, yet will not for a second feel dragged along. The elongated coda of ‘…Blues’ possesses an electrifying emotion that rips apart the fabric of the template; while the segue into the bulldozing, YOB-tinged ‘Evacuate!’ pulverises the ears and introduces a rampant, occasionally nasty Jazz-infused groove. Severin Black’s drum pattern following the ominous intro of ‘Shrine of Debauchery’ is simple yet potent, hauling Tary’s terrifying bassline in its wake and setting the tone for the claustrophobia of the swelling, pulsating body.
And this is merely halfway in. The album’s last two tracks cover 33 minutes and crush so comprehensively they create a vacuum, riding and bouncing off planets as they travel along. The beauty of this second slab of vinyl is the paradoxical compatibility between its extremes: the implosive power of ‘Dawncrusher Rising’s opening gambit begins so steadily, growing almost unnoticeably to a gravestone-cracking rut whilst remaining compelling, hypnotic, masterful. The monstrous Blues of closer ‘Implosion Rites’, meanwhile, is Cream slowed to a crawl and delivered by Zeus, Poseidon and Hades: the slowed rhythms fulminating and muscular, the harmonised vocals Ozzy-esque yet resplendent, the pedal effects gradually halting the earth’s rotation.
Quite simply, and to retain the mythical analogy, this is Atlas: utterly despondent, pissed off with his fate, and deciding to fling the planets around after a few beers and a reefer. Rise of the Dawncrusher is fucking incredible, an unmissable masterpiece of both its genre and its times.
9.5/10.0
PAUL QUINN
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Saturday 2nd April sees the latest all-day event to grace the UK city of Manchester. The NOIZ All-Dayer is the brainchild of Eytan Dorron Wineapple, a popular and passionate figure of the local Metal scene, and this third such event sees an incredible Low-end bill decorated with other displays, including an art exhibition. While Brit heavyweights The Wounded Kings, Witchsorrow and Hang the Bastard are arguably the biggest names of the fourteen bands on show, of equal note is Israeli outfit Dukatalon’s first appearance on these shores.
Despite the predominance of the monolithic chord, the packed lineup shows variance: Birmingham Industrial duo Khost and Psychedelic Heavy Soul trio Vodun make mouth–watering appearances, whilst the occult groove is also present in the form of Sussex-raised Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell. It’s a bill reflecting Eytan’s love of crushing strings, but also reflects his desire and devotion to bring the best acts to his local area: “Yeah, I’m really happy with the lineup”, he says, “It totally delivers on our promise of big riffs and heavy tones.” It seems the inclusion of the fabled Dukatalon, meanwhile, is a testament to networking and to the curator’s dedication and hard work: “This is their first UK tour. I got in touch with the band through a mutual Israeli friend and went from there.”
So does the strength of the bill create headaches for future events? Eytan doesn’t think so. “I wouldn’t say it adds any pressure. It’s just a natural thing to want to make things bigger and better than previous times. For sure this lineup is bigger, and the production will be slicker. No doubt the same will be said about the next one, however, so no, there’s no pressure.”
Encouraging words for the future, then. This is a festival with something a little different: a host of visual and audio delights to ensnare the senses, smack-bang in the centre of Town, and at £12 a ticket it’s as good as a free gig. You know what to do…
PAUL QUINN
One is never quite sure what to expect from Italian Doom, oft laden as it is with a Deathly rattle or Psychedelic, Stoner grooves. The initial strains of ‘The Devil’s Conjuration’, the opening track from Void Of Sleep’s second full-length New World Order (Aural Music), show a slightly chaotic, progressive structure: Riccardo ‘Paso’ Pasini’s gloriously clanking bass cushioned by layered keys and occasionally Djent-style rhythms from the drums and squirming riffs.
Doom actually seems to be the understudy here: vigorous, crashing grooves dancing along the paths of ‘…Conjuration’ and the ensuing ‘Hidden Revelations’ with only a fuzzing, deep rhythm guitar pinning down the Low-end influence. The latter shows a real Prog sensibility, from the cosmic slower sections which are graced by Andrea ‘Burdo’ Burdisso’s languid, mellifluous tones, to the angry creativity of the tangential battery and occasional harsh vocal. This invites a range of comparison: the expansion of Coheed and Cambria; the melody and angular rhythms of Karnivool; even the rampant cacophony of Dillinger Escape Plan or Meshuggah. Yet Void of Sleep meld these fractious, dysfunctional cousins into a vital and hugely engaging whole.
The early, mournful guitar and dragging weight of ‘Order Ab Chao’ is the first earnest show of monolithic intent, yet the pace is soon re-energised by another prancing behemoth of a groove, with Andrea ‘Allo’ Allodoli’s syncopated patterns both sinister and enlivening. Alternatively there’s a soft melancholy to the glorious title track, again nodding to Karnivool’s wistful yet powerfully rhythmic moments, which seems more in tune with a sad foreboding than a celebration of a new coming. The album’s fearful tale is constantly magnetic, its diverse wonder not least explored in the slightly overlong, epic closer ‘Ending Theme’: a drifting yet powerful monster, flitting between moments of airy whimsy and slow yet thudding brutality. Groove-ridden passages see time switches and discordant cascades handled in unison and with consummate ease.
Maybe this is the kind of album Opeth should make in order to re-unite its warring fanbase. In the meantime, let’s herald this gloomy yet vibrant coming which is as delightful as it is foxing and involving.
7.5/10
PAUL QUINN
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There’s decent pedigree within the ranks of New England quartet Kind, and the filthy, leaden groove attacking the knees from the beginning of debut album Rocket Science (Ripple) bears that out. Yes, it’s Stoner but, initially at least, there’s more life in the plunking of the bass, the reverb of the whole sound and Craig Riggs’ vocal roar which, far from the emphysemic gargle usually expected, has a depth and resonance befitting the growling riffs and sedentary pace.
An atmospheric production further lifts the sound throughout, giving the lazy Blues-Rock of ‘Rabbit Astronaut’ a mystique which enhances both the smokiness of the riff and the frenetic lead. The tempo of ‘Fast Number One’ is aptly ramped up to near-NWOBHM, levels yet Tom Corino’s mellow bass notes and the subtle riff allow the track to breathe through Matthew Couto’s precise stickwork. Riggs’ delivery is a little ‘pubby’, however, manfully handling some pretty clunky lyrics.
Not unexpectedly there is a stodginess to certain elements. It takes a gradual quickening and more of Darryl Shepard’s howling leadplay to inject life into the somewhat dull and uninspired meanderings of the overlong ‘Hordeolum’: the powering riff and Psychedelic vocal gracing the last quarter showing what might have been. The grinding, dirty Funk of ‘Pastrami Blaster’, meanwhile, is reined by a sluggish torpor which prevents that hot undercurrent from exploding; again only fired to partial grandeur by more electrifying work from Shepard. When things do fire, however, they are both potent and infectious; the nasty, driving power of the standout ‘Grogan’ again given room to flex by a strong yet dextrous riff.
The fuzzed, mellow tones of closer ‘The Angry Undertaker’ are slightly affected by Riggs’ balladic croon which, although wondrous by the genre’s standards, still shows limits on occasion. It’s here, however, where the creativity and fire in the belly is really displayed – the brutal, barrelling riffs and subsequent screams duelling with steadily building and intricate, cosmic leads – and where the uncertainty of Kind’s goodie bag is finally dispelled. Despite brief flashes of the usual failings there is much to be positive about here.
7.0/10
PAUL QUINN
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