Introducing Mooner, a psychedelic rock group from Indonesia made up of members of The Slave, The Sigit, Sigmun and Sarasvati – all well-established bands in their homeland. Originally released in April via Bhang Records, is the re-release of their début album Tabiat this time via Outer Battery. Within it is a multitude of influences, Indian Raga and Middle Eastern touches are mixed together with psychedelic, 70s era bluesy rock resulting in a familiar yet alien sound.Continue reading
I went into Wormwitch’s Strike Mortal Soil (Prosthetic) with a groovy attitude. I thought it clever that it opens with ‘As Above’ and closes with ‘So Below’. The first words spoken were, “I stand on the precipice. And I leave my body to wash away in the current of time. Pour your wisdom into me. Repent into me. And prepare for total annihilation.” In my mind I swear I heard Arthur Brown starting to sing ‘Fire’. I tried to sing ‘Fire’ whilst listening to ‘Howling From the Grave’. In a very scary twist of musical fate, it worked!Continue reading
Having slowly transformed themselves from ’60s/’70s psychedelia into a full-blown Occult Rock/Doom Metal act, as well as having undergone several changes in personnel in their eight-year existence, it makes perfect sense that Sabbath Assembly see new album Rites of Passage (Svart Records) as a reflection on the transitional stages of life.Continue reading
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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