Today's "New Band To Burn One To" comes from Thessaloniki, Greece.
Band Bio:
We are called “Spine Chilling Breeze” and we just released our first promo with the first 2 songs we wrote and recorded at the end of 2011. Now, we are recording our demo with 8 new songs. We play something between stoner rock, heavy rock, alternative and classic metal. Nothing more to say about us!
Thoughts:
"If the two songs that Spine Chilling Breeze are any indication of things to come, then bring it on! I love the fast-paced guitar driven Stoner Rock vibe these guys purvey. With a little bit of a sleazy attitude and a raspy vocal punch, these dudes intend on delivering pure musical satisfaction. Spine Chilling Breeze indeed!"
This coffee just ain't workin'! Short on sleep, long on swirling thoughts, and peppered with Sharpie tags that make little sense, today wasn't looking bright. I can't find my right shoe and I probably could've slept through an asbestos alarm had my neighbor not broken into my garage looking for power tools. Enter Denver's Clinging to the Trees of a Forest Fire and their blistering six-track Visceral, a release that smacked my skull with a wet fish and beat me awake.
Calling themselves "funeral grind" is perhaps misleading. I've never been to any funeral with this much brutal pacing. These songs whir through sixteen minutes with more filth than German porn and no detectable bullshit. CTTTOAFF are straight-forward and to the point; a point that's sharp, hot, and fucking painful. When tempos relent, we find a glimmer of hope in the form of sticky sludge that plunges its claws under tree roots and gnashes at any attempt of rescue. I guess I didn't need coffee in the first place.
The drone of a single, evasive doom chord begins ///, an ultimately subdued dry-heave of fluttering drums and brief noise. This intro is fleeting until Lower than Life, High as the Sky presents the dirt-caked vocal of Ethan McCarthy (who also takes credit for the searing guitar stabs on this release). Moving from sludge/doom to thrash, chaos ensues and knocks you to your ass. McCarthy chokes through pained vocals as spooky and unnerving doom rolls and waivers.
The album's three-song thorax is an exercise in grinding, abrasive gallops that spray grime faster than you can close your glazed eyes. Garbage is fast, filthy, and more fucked up than that fifth-grader who smells like piss and carries a dead animal in his lunchbox. The move toward a sludge groove is the reason you're reading this, and that sludge boils and sticks like agent orange. JP Damron's pummeling is just one of numerous thrash elements too abundant to ignore, and the descent of Special Education will leave your face blistered and your palms slippery. Crawling from the mud pit on Biracial, CTTTOAFF maintain their torchings and slow to a bulldozed rhythm (Zach Harlan's bass maintains a seemingly impossible balance) only long enough to catch a scant breath.
McCarthy's hollow growl steals early moments on Asthmatic, no small feat among his swinging pendulum riffs and the shifting rhythms underneath him. This is easily the album's highlight, holding a cloudy cadence simmering with harnessed energy that (wouldn't you know it) just won't be contained. The bouncing, negative doom and sludge complacence carry out the track (and album) that breaks its neck pulling from its chains.
The only detraction from this EP is that listeners will certainly want more. The relentless canter is exhausting, however, and maybe the band candidly did us a favor by keeping things brief. Melding grind and sludge sounds like a recipe for disaster, but Clinging to the Trees of a Forest Fire pull off seamless transitions and craft an undeniably brutal and pensive death rattle that will please metal fans of any ilk. Visceral is the Symbionese Liberation Army to any listener's Patty Hearst. This disc will beat you senseless until you begin believing your captors are right.
Captured live at The Texan Bar in Corpus Christi, TX. on 4/20, Switchblade Jesus shows why their music has been captivating audiences far and wide. With a grit, groove and a true southern swagger, Switchblade Jesus is sure to get you off your ass. Turn this shit up to 11!!!
Switchblade Jesus features:
Peter Quarnstrom - vocals
Eric Calvert - lead guitar
Billy Guerra - guitar
Jason Beers - bass
Jon Elizondo - drums
Music recorded and shot by Robert Perez Jr. of Zerep Productions
Today's "New Band To Burn One To" hails from Philadelphia, PA.
Band Bio:
Rock. Metal. The very stuff of which our world is made, often found deep down in the subterranean...Commonly associated with this mortal soil, yet the elements are forged in the fire of the stars themselves...
Enter the SHOGUNAUT! Music forged from metal, powered by a million suns...
Thoughts:
"Shogunaut is less a band and more the brainchild of one Joe Maurone. The music contained within "The Gods Themselves Never Ask The End" is a striking assemblage of yearning trippiness, experimental rhythms and stellar musicianship. As you delve into Shogunaut's intergalactic trip, you will find a plethora of interesting guitar tricks and tones, heavy vocal layering, and spaced-out effects. Songs such as "Supernova" and "Left Behind" are clear winners. Check out Shogunaut at the following links."
Back in 1972 an airtight, watertight canister was buried in the field next to the football stadium of a small high school located somewhere in the Panhandle of Texas. The white belt, white shoes wearing administration of the local high school had made sure to include newspapers, magazines, and popular books of the time, as well as typed lists describing the top TV shows and movies of the year. Going to great lengths to make the canister extra special, the principal packaged up a special box to be placed into the impermeable container along with the other time travelling items, a box that contained 45 rpm disks of many of that year’s hit songs, which happened to be the principal’s favorites, including Don McLean’s “American Pie”, Sammy Davis Jr.’s “The Candy Man”, and America’s “A Horse With No Name”, all simple, yet insipid pieces of music supposedly representing the epitome of rock and roll at the onset of the seventies. The only inclusion in the stack that came close to having bite, though, was perhaps Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out”. What the principal didn’t realize was that his pot smoking, sideburn sporting, trendsetting, utterly cool son had slipped a stack of his own into the canister. Included in little Jimmy’s package was a bong, a pack of Zig-Zags, one of his favorite lighters, and a stack of records that represented his idea of what type of music belonged in a time traveling knick knack coffin that would surely be opened by people of the future who would have by then figured out the true essence of music, of rock, and would appreciate what he had managed to send them down through the echoes of time. Little Jimmy had carefully placed his 5 favorite albums: Mountain’s “Flowers of Evil”, Iron Butterfly’s “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”, Black Sabbath’s “Master of Reality”, Warhorse’s self titled album, and his favorite, “Thunderfist” the self titled album by Thunderfist . . .
. . . wait, what? Thunderfist? 1972? This album has such an incredibly classic rock sound that you would swear it came from the seventies, except it’s better than that. It’s as if when they opened little Jimmy’s box of albums, his prediction had come true, the music played 40 years later was the epitome of the sound that began way back when, sound that has progressed and has been perfected, not by tweaking and gimmickry, but by building on the foundations of hard driving rock and using technology that only enhances those wonderful sounds.
Thunderfist has been around for quite awhile, at least 14 years, hailing from the rockin’ state of Utah, where they have lived the life of guys who party in the desert with motorcycles and cars and who love to rock. Their music is certainly derivative of those wonderful bands mentioned in the fiction at the outset, but also of the best rock through all 4 decades between then and now. They list their influences as Slash, Thin Lizzy, Motorhead, AC/DC, and Motley Crue. But they have managed to go beyond that, beyond more than just a derivative band. This album, these songs, are chock full of rock awesomeness that uses what we all know as a starting point and builds beautifully onto it until they have crafted some of the finest heavy and hard music you’re likely to hear.
Blazing, scorching, screaming guitars, that relentlessly drive fast and hard; drums that pound out a pulsating beat with heart and fury; bass strings that are huge, ferocious, and furious; and maybe best of all are the vocals that are able to match the amplified sounds of the instruments in quality, volume, and sheer intensity, with a rich, raunchy, gravelly voice that expels expletives while rounding out the sound to a full blown assault on the rock and roll senses that equates to a fine and engulfing experience.
Thunderfist have managed to create quite a tremendous collection of songs, without one stinker in the bunch. Close your eyes and pick a song and you will be rocking your face off before you know it. From the opening track “Cut and Run” to the closing ditty that evokes memories of that earlier decade in a high school somewhere in rock n’ roll U.S.A. Thunderfist takes you on an unabashed and unapologetic journey through hard rock treasures. “Don’t Get it For Free” will have you tapping your toes and banging your head while “Smoke ‘em While You Can” just might have you rewinding a few times to repeat the experience to which you are treated on this rock standard that evokes the familiarity of dozens of songs ingrained into your rock and roll soul. “None of Your Business” is a fast, furious, and fun ditty enfused with what are surely double entendres. “As Good As It Gets” is a fitting epithet for a funky, toe tapping screamer, while the
most interesting song on this compilation may just be “Eskimo Pussy Is Mighty Cold”, putting to music the ageless Marine Corps sing along standard, sung to cadence of millions of cadets training to become elite fighters, dispelling rock and roll of a different variety.The best song on the album is “Back Down”, which has a very quick tempo, riffs that are ablaze from the speed at which the song is played, and just an all around great rock sound.
Released early in 2012 “Thunderfist” is a high quality, high rocking, highly fun and enjoyable album from a group of guys who happen to know the ins and outs of making great music. This is rock at its finest, whether you compare it to the best rock of the seventies and eighties, or are just discovering fast and heavy metal music 40 years hence.
This weeks Double Dose comes from a new found passion of mine Replenish Records out of Washington D.C.. These guys have a solid line-up of bands that will suite our niche here at Heavy Planet, so be sure to take a closer look... we are just scratching the surface. Rituals is an Arizona behemoth, who formed in 2010. I cannot begin to spell out the amount of fervor and energy that await virgin listeners to Rituals. This self-titled debut is a power-house of emotion, leaning equally on melody as primordial aggression. The vocals seethe wretchedly between moments of sonic psychedelia and pummeling doom, and the track arrangement carries the album seamlessly, but be patient most songs run in upwards of ten minutes. If you are a listener that tends to shy away from lengthy songs, here is the record that will change your mind. In my opinion, Rituals have orchestrated these massive songs in such a way that allow time to disappear. The albums run-time of forty minutes vanishes in what seems a quarter of the time. I applaud this to great song writing and genius arrangements. Get your free download at bandcamp, but something this good deserves to be owned on vinyl. To support Rituals pick up a copy at Big Cartel or Replenish Records' Store.
Members: B. Garrabrants G. Colson B. Wissman A. Rich J. Regan
Up through the troposphere, the stratosphere, and finally into the exosphere... this is where we will temporarily linger. Why, you ask? Well, because we are listening to Sky Burial's latest Where Four Rivers Flow. Sky Burial are a sludgy, post-metal quartet from Nashville, Tennessee and Where Four Rivers Flow is their organic and living composition. The majority of the album is tranquil and calm, building an eager anxiety to a very positive and warming climax. This crests with the track Quietly, where one can sense a sudden change, leaving that peak in the exosphere. But, soon return to our soothing loft, very fitting for a sky burial. Where Four Rivers Flow is out on Replenish Records, who are offering this excellent release as a free download at bandcamp. A vinyl copy can be purchase at the Replenish Records' Store, exceptional cover art included.
Members: Jordan - Bass, Vocals Beau - Guitar Jesse - Guitar, Vocals Ivan - Drums, Percussion
We have teamed up with the guys from Guitar Master Class to giveaway three one-year memberships (each valued at $110) for their online guitar lessons service.
They have guitar lessons covering a variety of genres ranging from blues guitar lessons to stoner guitar lessons - and everything else in between. To enter the giveaway, simply send your answer to the following question to heavyplanet2001@yahoo.com:
What was Reg's number one album of 2011? (hint: answer can be found on this blog).
So if you are an aspiring guitarist who wants to learn how to play or an avid guitarist that just wants to hone their skills, Guitar Master Class offers personalized mentoring from expert musicians, and a ton of other resources for players of all levels. Good luck!
If you happen to be one of the unlucky ones, you can still get your first month for only $10 (normally $15) to give it a try.
Today's "New Band To Burn One To" hails from Olsztyn, Poland.
Band Bio:
CERBER plays an uncompromised blend of hardcore, stoner/sludge metal and specific, strong groove, not avoiding either melodies or a complete lack of them.
We try not to give a fuck and reap what the world sow in our minds by transferring it into hatred- driven noise
Thoughts:
"Featuring a gravel-fed howl and a total disregard for the damage that will be done to the listener's eardrums, Poland's Cerber create a chaos-filled bludgeoning of hardcore inspired groove. The guitar chugs and moans through the jagged rhythms while the groove sways back and forth encrusting your very being with a thick and murky sludge. Even though the music is very raw and unapologetic, the melody and well-balanced production rings true to form. Their latest EP "Mad At the Soul" which has lyrics primarily sung in their native tongue is available for FREE on Bandcamp. Get up off your ass and feel the crunchy groove of Cerber!
Many find April's tail-end to the be one of the year's most optimistic times. I won't say chirping birds and the smell of fresh-cut grass should replace the tic that results from missing your weekly Sunday Sludge, but a little sunshine could make anyone's day a bit more tolerable. Couldn't it? And aren't Los Angeles forecasts generally packed with bright days?
After two decades of misanthropic, drug-addled growls and hums, sludge veterans -(16)- are done believing there's a light at tunnel's end. April 24th marks the release of Deep Cuts From Dark Clouds, the band's latest in a string of straight-forward, burned-fingertip efforts that have left listeners picking their scabs and ignoring interventions. On these ten tracks, however, -(16)- have gone belly up and crafted the finest filth of their decorated existence.
Opening with Theme from "Pillpopper" now seems the only logical course for this album. Grinding and abrasive as the band has ever sounded, the trademark groove lies just beneath the sludge blisters and Mateo Pinkerton's savage drum assault. -(16)- choke on self-loathing, but they never overindulge and they never bore. If you're not accustomed to these emotional sewers, burglarize your nearest pharmacy for some supplies.
Ever-choleric, it's impressive the band can still sway its hips. The fuzzy shrapnel of Parasite shares space with awesome movement. Slowing to a slugfest between starving vagrants, this one churns better than an empty stomach greeted with cheap vodka. The Sad Clown is quick and pained, intermittent with pause and choppy licks. Jerue's vocals here are his deepest and most plagued, at times nearly drowning in piss-stained carpet fibers. But that groove holds him by the collar and exercises the restraint he suppresses.
Teasing with a near-hopeful fade-in, Her Little "Accident" oozes open jealousy. Tony Baumeister's bass is more a provocation than an invite, and -(16)- don't waste time peeking in your window; they off-road straight into your living room as you casually laugh at your own sins. Baumeister's low-end on Ants In My Bloodstream holds rhythms sunken and moods paranoid as Bobby Ferry's distant licks keep your dick-hair on its end. Escalating toward "never ending self-destruction," the track peels back folded skin, never allowing listeners any level of quiet or luxury.
An ominous haunt on Broom Pusher captures the brooding of a lowlife tip-toeing a misty back alley. Guitars go for a ride until Opium Hook's classic sludge tempo. This dirty, lumbering cut splinters and results in the album's fastest tempo. As Jerue notices "The sun is going down, we're in trouble," you worry he's absolutely right. And as Bowels of a Baby Killer descends on your speakers, you've gone too far to turn back. Spooky and cold at first, the track progresses to a bridge you consider jumping from. Following a mossy break, dirge enters and we drown in confusion and torment. Ultimately, though, complacency permeates and emerges the victor.
The disc's closing tandem is where isolation and despair return with a heady grind. Steady is the drone on Beyond Fixable, a song surprisingly focused for documenting the acceptance of addiction. Ferry's fretwork wrestles with Baumeister's thumbings, and the subject's ugliness nails its mark. Only Photographs Remain is monstrous with riffage, but Jerue's sting pushes the development of multiple personalities. Time signatures mutate, tempos shift, and insanity is ever-embraced. But hey, this is -(16)- after all.
Never known for mincing words or avoiding unnerving themes, Cris Jerue and company stick tight to elements far too real and painful for many to even acknowledge. Drug addiction and mental illness have all but defined the lyrical content strung through the band's catalog like stitches through broken skin. But here, Jerue's bark is more symptomatic of choice than struggle. The only match for this is the low and vile whir of rhythm that's never out of death's reach. Without tricks and without fluff, -(16)- tread the broken ground abandoned by their contemporaries. Ubiquitous pain has evolved into flared indignation, and the resulting sound is -(16)- at their greasy pinnacle.
The fourteenth endeavor of Asha, and its guitarist Kike Caamaño, is titled “Pleasures of Equality”, an eclectic mix of rock songs that showcases the repertoire of a master guitar journeyman displaying his much traveled and well earned virtuosity on the riffs, chords, and solos of this unclassifiable, totally unique, and immensely enjoyable album. Caamaño is joined on “Pleasures of Equality” by first time Asha vocalist Jacob Poulsen, whose strong, smooth, and clear vocals perfectly matches the varied and individualistic tracks on this diverse omnibus of rock songs that never tries to fit a standard, or conform to a preconception, but simply manufactures its own sound, borne over two and a half decades of honest effort coupled with innate talent.
When you’ve created thirteen albums over the course of a career and are facing the production of a fourteenth, what better way to kick it off than with the beautiful melodic stylings of . . . your 4 month old child. The very first track, “Newborn”, is an ode to Kike’s baby, in which he is able to structure a pleasant little ditty to accompany the baby’s cute jabber. Not your standard rock tune, and certainly nothing heavy here, just an indicator that Kike is no longer headstrong, as surely he must’ve been twenty years previous, but has instead matured to a point where he has no problem plucking the strings of his guitar simultaneously with those of his heart.
But never fear, the album quickly gets into a fast and fun number, “Welcome to the Lost Parade”, where the vaunted guitar work quickly comes into prominence, playing with energy and verve, deftly producing adept and prodigious riffs and chords that blend perfectly with Jacob’s clear, clean vocals before moving into blistering, almost awe-inspiring solos. This is a rock standard, the type of which fans of stoner rock have come to enjoy and look forward to in their favorite bands
“Here We Come Around” moves through a myriad of guitar riffs, in which Kike plays several different guitar tracks on top of a uniquely structured sing song cadence from Jacob, various quick and fun riffs sprinkled throughout that add a fun and unique spice to the song, while not abandoning the standard solo ensconced within the center.
Next is “How Could You”, beginning with an uptempo cadence, fast and boisterous on the guitar, full of varied and fun riffs that blend together to complement an exceptional vocal performance before entering a spacy but interesting interlude midway through the song, accentuated with a blistering guitar solo before returning briefly to the originally established structure, and then ending with a segue into something completely different but equally enjoyable. Caamaño takes the listener on a definite ride through lots of interesting terrain on this song, and throughout the entire album.
“Come Back (I’m Waiting For You) begins with a solo like introduction of slight distortion and significant length before moving into a few verses of harmonious vocals that are reminiscent of Americana music, interspersed with various renditions of the opening solo. A slight haunting quality to this song pulls slightly at the heartstrings while culminating in a choir-like invocation.
Funky, fun, and fast is the defining characteristic of “Unwritten Obsession”, quickly and deftly throwing out a variety of sounds, tempos, and structures. This song is completely full of a variety of intriguing and amusing sounds.
Another virtuoso guitar performance opens “Stuck In Our Moment”, accompanied by Jacob’s pure, clean vocals that carry you throughout the song in a foot tapping, finger snapping rendition, fun to keep time with, fun to listen to, and fun throughout.
“It Doesn’t Matter” displays some of the best of Jacob’s vocals and some of the heaviest of Kike’s guitar work on this album, never overbearing in any one place, moving in and out of interludes of heavier rock, interspersed with more vocally driven periods.
“The Deep Serenity” begins like a dual guitar blitz from Judas Priest or Deep Purple before dropping into the signature sound of Kike Caamaño, where time structures aren’t necessarily standard, but remain intriguing and fun, accompanied by the brilliant renditions of Jacob, who is amazing in matching his ardent intonations perfectly with Kike’s wonderfully unique and seemingly quirky guitar bonanzas.
A sound reminiscent of many guitar heavy songs from the late seventies is displayed on “Travels”, but briefly and uniquely accompanied by a short interlude of quirky vocal stylings.
“So Ends the End” again is structured in the unique way that Kike plays his songs, cramming lots of short but enjoyable guitar snippets throughout, demonstrating a wide array of sounds, from fast, clear, and high solo work to heavy, dense, thick, and loud distortion and fuzz.
The album ends with “Afterlife”, which starts slow and sweet with a simple acoustic pluck accompanied by a bongo like sound, and then the strings of long ago movie soundtracks. When the vocals are engaged then are displayed Poulsen’s most heartfelt and powerful production on this compilation. A psychedelic like feel permeates throughout, building slowly, growing louder, but remaining simple and pure in the instruments played before closing out with a simple, clear pluck on an acoustic instrument.
Kike Caamaño is able to do much with his guitar, combining the best of innate talent, years of experience, a knack for creating interesting and often unique music, and a clear desire to play and perform, having fun, sharing in the enjoyment of what he can do, what it evokes, how it makes the time spent listening to these unique and wonderful songs time very well spent. Here is not the standard stoner rock, doom, or sludge fare, and with only a sprinkling of the psychedelic, but Caamaño is a virtuoso with his chosen instrument, well worth getting to know in the intimate settings of “Pleasures of Equality”
Today's "New Band To Burn One To" comes from Georgia.
Band Bio:
Dead Southern Bishop was born early in the year of 2008 and that May we played our first show. The following Febuary we wento Zombie Studios and cut five tracks of southern sludge groove. Our self tilted ep was pressed and released late March of 2009 to rave reviews from the likes of HellRide Music, Doom Nation and Skulls n Bones. In May of 2009 Brian Lane was added as a second guitar player to round out our line up. After countless more shows shows and an un-recorded new ablum, things came up and in August of 2010 we had to put DSB on hiatus. During this time bassist Chris Morris moved back home to West Virginia and Brian Lane stept down to sepend more time with his family. Now in 2011 Blake, Billy, and Ben decided to resurrect the band with new life and a new sound. Going back to the roots of DSB sounds and stripping it down to go for the throat!! Late in the year of 2011 the band entered Red Rocket Sounds to record a new ep with Franks Sikes (Drummer of Starchild.) at head of production!! The studio sesson would be called "Hymns Of Malice And Discontent" an ablum screaming with a wretched distaste for life, hopeless salvation, and the woes of addiction.
Thoughts:
"As if evil itself plunged you into a caustic swamp, Dead Southern Bishop's thick fuzz and hell hath no fury vocal layering leave you doubting if you will ever make it out alive. These southern boys wind and grind through five hair-raising songs of sludge, sludge and more sludge on their latest EP "Hymns Of Malice And Discontent". This music is pure, raw, unrelentless and not for the faint of heart, but holy shit if it isn't awesome! And oh, did I mention right now you can get it for free on Bandcamp."
Show o' hands, kids... How many of you think the Midwest United States is little more than cornfields and cold winters? Alright, keeping those hands up... How many have heard The Midnight Ghost Train, Fister, Poney, or Threefold Law? Well, there's more to the Midwest than grain, slick driveways, and long-cut Copenhagen. These 21 bands exemplify an edge that's impossible to dismiss once you've let down your guard. Check in with Grip of Delusion Radio this Sunday, April 22nd, from 4:00pm to 6:00pm EST for a reason to ignore those truck stops and stay for the night. Honest Abe Lincoln loved Illinois for a reason, and that reason was The Atlas Moth (would we bullshit you?).
Here's your beefy lineup...
Kansas:
1. The Midnight Ghost Train - Mustache (Topeka)
Illinois:
2. Buried At Sea - The Dogs of Doom are Howling More (Chicago)
3. Lord Green - Flying (Quad Cities)
4. Hunters - Grime Maiden (Chicago)
5. The Atlas Moth - Perpetual Generations (Chicago)
Iowa:
6. Radio Moscow - Broke Down (Story City)
7. Mondo Drag - New Rituals (Davenport)
Missouri:
8. Fister - Mazda of Puppets (St. Louis)
Minnesota:
9. YOUWRETCH - The Rider (Minneapolis)
10. A Place Of Owls - As We Commit Our Dead (Minneapolis)
Indiana:
11. The Mound Builders - Ironhide (Lafayette)
12. Jesus Chrystler - The Pit (La Porte)
13. The Heavy Company - Wormweed (Lafayette)
Wisconsin:
14. Speaker Eater - The Indoctrination (Wausau)
15. Poney - Stormblast (Wausau)
16. Droids Attack - Must Destroy (Madison)
Michigan:
17. Buffalo Witch - The Beast (Grand Rapids)
18. Sea of Zyn - Idolatry (Detroit)
Ohio:
19. Ravenna Arsenal - The Empress (Kent)
20. Valley of the Sun - Mariner's Tale (Cincinnati)
21. Threefold Law - Water (Cleveland)
Wanna hear what the rest o' the world sounds like? Clickherefor Heavy Planet's ever-expanding catalog of riveting podcasts!
We haven't dabbled to much with Heavy Psychedelia here at the Double Dose, and upon stumbling onto Eidetic Seeing, now is as good a time as ever. Eidetic Seeing formed in 2009 in Brooklyn and recently released their debut album Drink The Sun. The songs are fuzzy and rely on Sean's [Forlenza] cosmic guitar tones. Danilo's [Randjic-Coleman] bass is always present and never over-shadowed, adding depth to the spacey climb out of this galaxy, while Paul's [Feitzinger] drums keep this journey in time. Paul also incorporates all necessary waves and frequencies expected during inter-galatic travel with his synthesizer work. Tracks from Drink The Sun are now streaming at bandcamp and soundcloud, check them out and enjoy the haze.
Members:
Danilo Randjic-Coleman - Bass
Paul Feitzinger - Drums / Synthesizer
Sean Forlenza - Guitar
Poland reliably delievers some of the best doom, sludge, and stoner metal in the world. This is no easy task, knowing the Europe in its entirety has bestowed us with just about every heavy music genre known and loved today. KozybunX are another one of Poland's finest, mastering the low frequencies category. If you're looking for some ground-breaking and progressive doom, you've come to the wrong band. Rather than reinvent doom, KozybunX pummel your brain-stem with simple, slow, heavy riffs and have replaced any sort of lyrics with vocal samples, which can be quite terrifying. Check out their epic Hex (Deep Sleep) below. A digital copy can be downloaded at bandcamp.
Today's "New Band To Burn One To" comes to you from Birmingham, UK.
Band Bio:
Birmingham based SALLY, came together in 1996 as a trio, Andrew Parker(guitar), Peter Brown(bass), Darren Donovan(drums,vocals) taking their name from ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ heroin ‘Sally Hardesty’, their music was heavily influenced by bands such as MUDHONEY, FU MANCHU and SONIC YOUTH. Guitarist Nigel Baker augmented the line-up in 1997. They recorded two demo tapes with this line-up. After witnessing a live performance supporting ORANGE GOBLIN in their hometown of Birmingham, LEE DORRIAN of RISE ABOVE RECORDS/CATHEDRAL offered the young trio a deal. Shortly before recording, SALLY inducted LEE SMITH( formerly of ETERNAL/ELECTRIC WIZARD, MOURN and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania doom legends PENANCE) on vocals. The s/t album was recorded in 1998. Baker would leave the band in 1999, not being happy with their ‘heavier’ direction. They continued as a quartet.
A BILLY ANDERSON produced sophomore album(C-EARTH) was released during 2004. The band would break up shortly after that.
SALLY have supported ORANGE GOBLIN, ELECTRIC WIZARD, GOATSNAKE, MARK D(melvins), SPIRIT CARAVAN, BEAVER, NEBULA, KARMA TO BURN, and more recently after a re-union in 2010 : SOILENT GREEN, BLOOD CEREMONY, SIGIRYIA, SLAB DRAGGER.
Thoughts:
"Many of you may be familiar with Sally as they are not exactly a "new" band. In 2010 the band got a new lease on life with constant touring and is now planning on releasing some new material. This is our way of re-introducing you to the band if you will. Sally's meandering tempos and hypnotic grime are sure to please the ears of any fan dedicated to all things Doom. Their music leads the listener along a gilded path of equally dark and psychedelic worlds which feature noisy guitars, fierce vocals and acrid heaviness. Take a listen to the band simply known as Sally and hear for yourself."
Today's "New Band To Burn One To" comes to you from Austin, Texas.
Band Bio:
We are a stoner rock band from Austin, Texas. We are newly formed since October of 2011. Our band consists of 3 members, Tiffany Barron on vocals and guitar, Rebecca Hubinsky on drums and Steven Kerner on bass. We are all veterans of the Austin music scene. Tiffany Barron was the bass player for the black metal band Cuss Pig, Rebecca Hubinsky was the drummer for local band One Good Lung and Steven Kerner was the drummer for the touring band Knife in the Water, guitar player for Bluegrass Drive By with Scott Byram and guitar player for the Royal Butchers. Our influences include Jex Thoth, Sleep, Acid King, and Wolves in the Throne Room.
Thoughts:
"With powerful yet sexy and angelic vocals leading the way, Austin's Bad Lucifer is about to turn the Earth to dust with their orgasmic blend of psychedelic-tinged doom and fuzz. The warm tone from the guitar wallows through the steady and slow tempo provided by the tight rhythm section. The mesmerizing tonality launches you into a self-induced coma of kaleidoscopic brilliance and blissful inebriation, a dream you don't ever want to leave. Shame on you..Bad Lucifer!"
Many aspiring musicians never make it past their parents' basements. I picked up a guitar when I was fourteen, thought it would be much easier to play than it really was, and ultimately decided I could sell the damn thing for beer money. I had no discipline or patience, so when I trip over solo albums from one-man bands, I do tend to get a bit awestruck. When such an artist crafts such an album in the span of one week, I frown at my own lack of ambition.
Helsinki, Finland's Otu is Olli Suurmunne, a seemingly generous and easily-accessible musician who cut his teeth performing in Altar of Betelgeuze, a heavy doom/drone three-piece, and the stoner/blues act Stream of Sorrow. Under his Otu mask, Olli has given us Apocalypse, a ten-track album packed with sludge, doom and drone. Throughout the album, you hear the Orange Tiny Terror amp, you detect numerous pioneering influences, and you feel it all trickling down your throat like thick Codeine syrup.
The album's Intro promises two things: drone and fuzz. The underlying reverb is otherworldly and ominous until the crunchy sludge of Promise arrives, wielding a stoner vibe buried in thick mire. Slow, steady, and electric as a toaster in a bathtub, the buzz marries Otu's throaty sneer to pin your shoulders to your seat. The mossy quasi-solos never let the gravel fully settle, though things grow pretty thick as the track progresses.
The stoner fuzz wrapped around each track never detracts from the filthy crunch. Ain't Got No Frowns On Me maintains a tight fog amongst its Badmotorfinger influence. The blistering, uptempo burn through rough terrain makes you wish Otu extended the jam, but the balance of the album tells you he knows exactly what he's doing. The bong-choked Hell Breaks Loose follows, rolling downhill and melting everything in sight. Otu's vocals here are his most intense and demanding, staying deep within the crust rather than sailing above it.
That drone promised on the album's opener is delivered on Cemetery Part I and Cemetery Part II. The immediate doom of Part I fades in favor of Sunn O))) patience. It's difficult for musicians to be this tranquil with themselves, but Otu delivers a slow, thunderous, and macabre purr with no struggle. Part II closes the album, crustier and only a tad faster than its predecessor. Despondent and cloudy, there's somehow a strange comfort that envelopes listeners and rubs away dead skin with a sandpaper malaise.
The album is peppered with such varying styles that it's difficult to categorize it as sludge. On Sick, listeners meet Otu's cool, breezy response to the album's napalm. A choppy stop/start dynamic bounces off bayou elements that layer upon themselves. Carried out by Woody Weatherman-esque guitar licks, there's a southern-sludge atmosphere that makes this track stand out.
But the sludge on the album's title track is of the more nightmarish variety. Churning, chugging rhythms underly Otu's vocals that enter as quickly as they leave. The two-ton plod of lumbering giants could destroy entire villages, yet somehow the rhythms shift and a melody is lightly detectable. The song's timing is perfect while the riffs and breaks are well-placed and fully-realized. Ultimately, the tempo slows, as if cymbals are cautiously pulling away from your blistered face.
The whole of Apocalypse rattles in your head, sets up camp, and tickles your pre-frontal lobe. Angry and thick as hell, the entire album rides like a dune buggy on gravel. Otu digs in his hooves and, all by himself, manages to construct an all-around ferocious and thick sludge metal record that breaks free from his influences without abandoning them. The drone, doom, stoner, and even speed-metal fused throughout the disc only add to its appeal, and listeners won't ignore this one. Stoner sludge is alive and well... in Finland.
Have you ever listened to a band or to an album and had the antagonistic thoughts, “This sounds very familiar” as well as “I have never heard anything like this before”? It would be rare, if ever, right? But that is exactly what went through my mind when listening to Mount Olympus on their 2011 release “You’re Welcome”. Many of the tunes on this badass batch of boogie sound like songs you’ve heard before, hearkening back mainly to the latter years of the seventies or very early eighties, when lots of really good rock was being played by bands both known and obscure, rock that had not quite yet begun to evolve en masse into specific genres, sounds, or categories, but was still driven by the song itself, and by wielding that classic rock structure of hard hitting guitars, big bass, big drums, and huge vocals. But Mount Olympus, with their high energy, pulse popping songs, also invoke a sound that has its own unique stamp and structure, its own big rock sound, almost as if rock and roll had never deviated from its sound of the seventies but had continued to grow in the same direction, constantly creating great music, legendary sounds, and kick ass quality rock.
Mount Olympus began with Mike Guggino and Carter Logan hooking up in New York after Mike had moved there from Philadelphia. As it so often happens with musicians, bands are in flux, band members are on the move, and sometimes the right mutation spawns a great partnership, which is certainly the case when Mike and Carter were able to enlist the services of Dickie Spectacular and Sharif Hassan. Mike’s vision of “ . . . a face melting, rippingly awesome guitar rock band with it’s own special brand of sassafrass sauce . . . ” has come to full fruition with this lone album release, supplemented, of course, by touring extensively throughout the areas surrounding New York City. The initial introduction to Mount Olympus’ music comes with the first track, “Season of Evil”, a heart pounding, pulse racing, head banging beauty of high tempo fun and energy. The sound is big and forceful, the melody clips along with a wonderful rhythm, punctuated by short interludes of exquisite guitar work, and driven along with Guggino’s forceful, rough vocals that match perfectly with the sound. “Fire in the Sky” slows the tempo down a bit, allowing for an interesting and catchy intro that leads into a deliberate and expressive melody that is catchy and evocative, stirring up deep, dark visions, punctuated by blistering guitarwork and some of the most insistent drums you’ll ever hear. Mike’s vocals here have a reminiscent quality to them, an almost revival feel, evoking primal stirrings that meld into the flow of the music. A blistering, hot guitar jump starts “Evil Boogie”, which is anything but evil with its powerful rhythms and up tempo sound. This is a terrific tune of superb structure and delivery. Each guitar solo kicks up the heat from its predecessor, and the vocals are delivered with gusto and verve, along with a tremendous, loud, full and thunderous bass accompanied by fast and furious drums. This song may soon have you singing along while you inevitably bounce or bang to the great pace and rockability of this up tempo gem. This is quite possibly the best tune on the album. While the previous tune might be the best song, this next track has the best name – “Squeezing On My Bloodclot”. It is a terrific song in its own right, another one that evokes music of the past while making its inevitable and singular mark on the uniqueness of the album. This song, too, is up tempo and displays Guggino’s wonderful vocal stylings along with full and rich instrumentation on all fronts. “Most Triumphant” again displays top notch guitar work throughout a high energy song punctuated by big, rolling drums and high energy vocals. “Get Your Ass to Mars” is another vocal driven, guitar punctuated marvel of a song, that displays high energy, highly intelligent writing, and gifted musicianship, followed by the tune “Magic Hour”, evoking music from rock’s past while presenting a great sing along component before moving into a high energy solo section filled with tremendous and tasty riffs that simply blister and burn, besiege and bombard with an all out ferocity of strings. The album closes with “Wolfman’88’, a fitting selection for the auspicious duty of ending such a fantastic, unique, and well executed rock collection. Wolfman ’88, like all the songs before it, delivers the goods, creating and executing in all phases and stages music that is the best of what we like to hear, that doesn’t just show up at the door, but puts a ton of talent and heart into producing something that is not only unique, but ultimately worthwhile. You cannot go wrong with this outstanding album, because Mount Olympus has certainly done it right, deserving of the thanks for which they’ve already responded with “You’re Welcome”.
Do not judge this book by the cover, Mockingbird is neither pretty nor petite. And this mockingbird doesn't become redundant, merely mimicking the other birds' tunes. This Mockingbird is composed of four Ohio musicians with "...the personal necessity to create and break from the chains and illusions that confine our limited everyday senses". Beginning as a trio in 2008, Andy [Strickland], Chad,[Beverlin] and Mike [Faucher] decided to add depth to their sound in 2009 by adding another guitarist, Tom [Muron]. Taking on the D.I.Y. ethic Mockingbird ventured to Columbia, South Carolina's The Jam Room Studios to record their self-titled debut.
What was conceived was this... a groovy-doom laden self-titled EP that runs approximately thirty five minutes in six tracks. Yes, it goes by quickly, but this shoe-gaze induced doom metal is of the highest quality and will certainly have a mesmeric effect . Andy and Tom's guitars are layered thick and groovy, driving five of the six tracks. The vocals emerge hauntingly in sequence with the instrumentals, yet flood each song in passionate agony. The bass' foundation is prominent throughout each track and combined with the brawny percussion creates a thunderous stampede, but never overpowers these musicians solidarity.
With a quick roll of the snare Puma Puncu is underway and immediately Mockingbird is telling a story of affliction and trauma. The vocals are truly striking here and throughout the remaining three minutes of Mockingbird's opener. Burdens, like most songs on Mockingbird's EP, gets straight to the sludgy business that keeps us coming back. Around the one minute mark we're blasted with the hum of an Australian wind drone and the track quickly gallops into a limber drum pattern. Burdens then transfers fluidly back into a sludgy trough and an addition of well placed guitar squeals keeps the track versatile. The EP closes with the unpredictable and enchanting Trained Apes. Breaking away from the visceral charge of songs like Puma Puncu and Burdens, Trained Apes is focused by the plucking of a single electro-acoustic guitar, while a psychedelic bubbling, laughter, and howling delight. The most memorable iota to this extraordinary instrumental piece is the sound of the sliding of the strings between note and chord changes, sowing a very intimate and human heart inside this pterodactyl-sized Mockingbird.
The guys keep very busy touring, playing with genre-defining acts like Unsane, Jucifer, Mouth of the Architecht, and Fistula. They will be playing with the Heavy Planet favorite, Lo-Pan at the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern, Pittsburgh this Saturday (14 April 2012), if you're in the area check them out and pick up a CD. If not, one can be purchased at Innervenus and Hellville Records. In the mean-time, check out this extremely well performed (and shot) video of Puma Punca live at The Rock Room.
Members:
Andy Strickland - Guitar / Vocals Chadd Beverlin - Drums Mike Faucher - Bass / Vocals Tom Muron - Guitar
These bands we love, what they do to us. It's fair to expect Pelican to shift, drop, or fucking boil down completely. We've seen it from lesser bands. We still love our metal, our post-metal, our anything-heavy-enough-to-drown-our-incredibly-awful-day metal. Pelican's been our safety for far too long, and I'm sure they're fucking tired of hearing that. What they've also been is a consistently proficient and focused instrumental quartet within a metal landscape riddled with inflated egos and ridiculous over-indulgence.
With 2009's What We All Come To Need, Pelican cemented their sound, their audience, and their expansive and seemingly endless borders. There's no safe categorization, no easy assumption. Pelican have paid their dues, garnered their accolades, and continually amazed countless listeners with an amalgam of progression, power, and potency that (sadly) other bands no longer drive toward.
So it's easy to assume, with such lofty expectations thrown upon Pelican's shoulders, they'd steer the course and provide loyals with a complacent contract obligation-type record and play the game. Hardly. This Ataraxia/Taraxis EP demonstrates both the band's fidelity to longtime loyals and their open arms to fresh ideas. Pelican do more with this EP's eighteen minutes than most bands do with a greatest shits collection's double disc. Yes, I said "greatest shits" because Creed is performing in my state (also Pelican's) this week and my only defense is self-induced vomiting.
Ataraxia hovers just above your consciousness with a cool, buzzing atmosphere until that jet descends under Bryan Herweg's bass grumble. Pensive, honest, and pretty fucking spooky, the electric piano/xylophone measure is desperate and elastic enough to tie together every element of every Pelican moment without detracting from what lies ahead. Less an intro than an omen, we're welcomed into a dream sequence that flirts with tonight's nightmare. It's gonna tickle your pre-frontal cortex and stick with you beyond your breakfast.
Pelican are at their pinnacle when they balance the technical with the absolutely fucking beautiful, which has never been more evident than on Lathe Biosas. Guitarists Laurent Schroeder-Lebec and Trevor de Brauw trade choppy stutters with drifting harmonies, and Larry Herweg's drums punctuate with endless ellipses humming a subtle thunder. The fuzzy, post-metal drone threaded throughout the track is refreshing and draining, and the bounce is never cartoonish or spoiled. These notes will drain listeners for days.
Pelican utilize Parasite Colony as a reminder that they're still Pelican, but they're willing to shorten the stroke and sweeten the spark. Buzzing, candy-coated riffs and rhythmic jams are strewn with an ambiance that lays your jaw to the ground with a slow-motion push. This is an accomplished, sand-caked progression toward ever-escalating volume and scope, the band's trademark throughout each song, every album, and their entire career.
Taraxis bookends the EP with a cool pick and perhaps the bracing of an impending winter. The distant guitar plucks manage to stay grounded and allow an unsettled screech to emerge. There's pain here, evident by the succession of melodies and penultimate buzz. The pause is hardly a relent. As we're met by fewer sounds, listeners detect more intensity. The incredible fusion of crunch and evanescent beauty likely marks this as 2012's best exit.
Ataraxia/Taraxis is only the most recent in a string of Pelican's assertions that they lead the pack of instrumental outfits. At times illusory and other times heavy, this EP is considerably expansive for its brevity. Pelican's musicianship remains unmatched. The contrasting moods and harmonies here will enthrall listeners and likely push the EP onto more than a few "Best Of" lists. This isn't the first "can't miss" release of 2012; so far, it's just the best.