Welcome To Heavy Planet!

If you are looking for new Stoner Rock, Doom, Heavy Psych or Sludge Metal bands, then you have come to the right place. Heavy Planet has been providing free promotion to independent and unsigned bands since 2008. Find your next favorite band at Heavy Planet. Thanks for stopping by!

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

New Band To Burn One To: SMOKIN' BASEMENT

"It is a known fact that I am a total sucker for a great instrumental band. One of the most important elements for me is that the band does enough within each song to keep it interesting. Whether it is a great riff, incredible tone, a subtle key change or just gradual layering, that is usually what plays a huge part for me in liking an all instrumental band. One of my top picks last year was Montreal's Tumbleweed Dealer, this year it is Greek band Smokin' Basement. 

For the most part, contained within these four tracks is a trance-inducing and trippy vibe filled with appropriately placed guitar solos, flailing drum fills and hedonistic bass lines. Each song on the EP is aptly titled as you are transported into a journey filled with sun-drenched desert serpents and hazy swirls of smoke while methodically dodging immense particles of cosmic debris. 

As my ears get older and wiser, it is a band like Smokin' Basement that provides me the opportunity to chill without sacrificing my need for the heavy. Since this is only an EP, it gives me hope that there is a full-length in the near future. Download for FREE now!"

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Sunday Sludge: Giza - "I Am The Ocean, I Am The Sea"

This is exactly what I'm talking about when I use the word "heavy." This is exactly what I want, it's perfectly executed, and there isn't a single crack in the structure of these sounds. Nine of Saturday's hours were spent sifting through cluttered toys, clothes, and mail, so the last thing I felt like doing this morning was sorting through bullshit egos and inflated indulgences. So Seattle's Giza have again made my fuckin' day.

Following up 2012's stellar Future Ruins is the five-track I Am The Ocean, I Am The Sea, an instrumental half hour of beautifully-realized servings of crash and sustain. Absolutely nothing roadblocks the dense bruising bookended between I and V, slugging forward yet steadily descending to incredible depths. Crafting prophetic swirl and sprawl is no small task without the benefit of vocal promise and anguish, and to do so with such fleeting, gorgeous discord is thrusting Giza toward seasoned status requiring a second trip to the buffet line.

I and V act as a vice, leaving the album's thorax swollen and primed to explode. Molecular Tsunami pulses with thick grime, lacing timber with screeching themes shifting between the primitive and the progressive. With no shortage of stoner buzz and a perfect marriage of cascading drums and swirling guitars, this one's an absolute fucking delight. There's no denying it's as apocalyptic as the band assures, but this track puffs its chest and welcomes crashing slate as necessity rather than novelty.

Sustained pauses and grinding sludge rhythms characterize the desolate atmospheres of Interplanetary Cyclone. Fleeting across vast expanses and descending into a sea of fire, flames sporadically burst and this song, like its predecessor, begins completely dissolving into itself. Drawing Tar follows with longer-drawn churn, lurching with each passage toward dark intent. Laundry-hung licks cascade between genres, buzzing just beyond the steaming ditch. A deliciously choppy midpoint is highlighted by staggering drumwork, leading an elemental flicker that never fully snuffs out. The track's final death rattle seeks a true path, shifting and smoking toward an abrupt close.

Cemented within the spacey and the sad is a hovering sense of something much larger. Where vocals announce there's a wolf at your door, their absence provides a more unsettling sense of dread. Giza take our imaginations on a tour of sludge's lonely, cavernous corners. We're not sure if the demise is coming from beyond or within, but it's the exploration of those uncertainties that sets apart these sounds. I Am The Ocean, I Am The Sea marks a soaring, lumbering stride for a band that's somehow gotten us more than a little excited for the end of everything. 

For fans of: Isis, Failure, Russian Circles
Pair with: Goose Island Bourbon County Brand Stout (no, no... the 2012), Goose Island Beer Co.

Friday, May 23, 2014

LP Review 'Star Collider' by Acid Elephant

If you had late 70’s electro poppers Roxy Music’s frontman Bryan Ferry fronting a light psychedelic doom band, you would get something very similar to Star Collider, but thankfully the floppy haired lothario stuck to his pop dross and we have the real deal, with Finland’s Acid Elephant and all their heavy glory, and their third album! While the vocals are a little unconventional at times for regular listeners of the genre, that only strides to exemplify the talents of the instrumentation on offer here as you try to listen through a thick heavy smoke and 60’s guitar meanderings trail-blazing to an astral plain of laid back grooves.

It’s halfway through ‘Red Carpet Lane’ that you find yourself on Mars being given a shoulder rub by a talking Sloth who’s dictating the history of the earth to your third ear while atop a floating carpet, just before the hammering blow of the guitar’s riff brings you back to reality. The band’s combination of heavy fuzzy riffs and delicate meanderings into soft psychedelic territory are what surprises and keeps you enthralled in their mellowed out musings.

When the heaviness of ‘Red Carpet Lane’ surpasses, ‘7th Stone’ hits you with 13 minutes of drone, enough time for you to simply lose your mind and give your body over to Acid Elephant. It’s experimentation that keeps you at arms reach while never letting go, as ‘Godmason’ again allows a sense of alienation before the drums and heavy-ass bass line kick in warning you of danger ahead as the acid-heavy guitar tripping comes into full swing. You’ll be doing well to hold onto your marbles after the 15 minute mark lands, setting you up for the epic finale of ‘Bog’ where a touch of vocals are reintroduced to offer a respite for the thick masking of drone waves smothering your speakers.

Thick heavy colourful smokey smothering drone; thy champion is Acid Elephant!


Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Greenleaf - "Trails & Passes"

Greenleaf has always occupied a unique niche in the world of Swedish stoner rock. As a side band with a rotating roster (comprised of musicians handpicked from the likes of Dozer, Lowrider, Demon Cleaner, and Truckfighters) they exist essentially as the musical equivalent of a superhero team. Part of the fun is seeing who shows up when guitarist Tommi Holappa yells "Avengers assemble!" and what havoc that particular permutation will wreak. As a consequence to all the lineup rotations, Greenleaf have exhibited a chameleon-like quality to shift from muscle car fuzzouts ("Witchcraft Tonight") to struttin blooze ("Stray Bullit Woman") to haunting epic ("Nest of Vipers").

On their fifth and latest album Trails & Passes Holappa and mainstay bassist Bengt Backe are joined by newcomers Arvid Jonsson on vocals and Sebastian Olsson on drums. The resulting record is decidedly mature on the surface but deceptively subversive at its core, a dichotomy which actually extends to the visual presentation as well. The beautiful front cover artwork could easily be mistaken for one of those discs on display at the Starbucks counter for people to use as a soundtrack for their Sunday afternoon hikes. Take one look at the outdoorsy group shot on the inside however and you see the band looking like a bunch of guys that just got through disposing of a body in the woods.

Trails & Passes kicks off in blistering fashion with leadoff track "Mother Ash", a full-throttle rocker highlighted not only by Holappa's nimble guitarwork but by the mellifluous vocals of the golden-throated Jonsson. The riffage continues to spew forth like molten blasts of magma on "Equators", replete with cowbell and monolithic fuzz, and "Depth of the Sun" which features rhythmwork from Backe and Olsson that joyously harkens back to Jones and Bonham circa Led Zeppelin I. The focus nonetheless remains on Tommi's guitar, as evidenced on "Humans" with its funky strutting riffs and scorching solo.

"With Eyes Wide Open" begins with a scraping intro that segues into a laid-back spacey vibe. With the refrain of "open up your eyes, don't trust their lies" chanted over hypnotic tribal drumming, the track is easily the record's resident smokeout bong star and would easily be the best tune on the album if not for the monumental title track. Over fuzzed-out bass and a hard charging beat, "Trails and Passes" rips along at a driving pace until erupting in a volcanic avalanche of searing licks. By the time it's done, you're volunteering to go back on the trails and passes with them to help dispose of more bodies.

Trails and Passes by Greenleaf


Sunday, May 18, 2014

Sunday Sludge: Mollusk

Ever the Johnny-come-lately, eh? It's cliched by now, but it's still embarrassing when something slips through the cracks and only earns your praises after months have passed. When it's the following year, all I can do is hang my head and offer a most pathetic apology. If I comb the desert, mouths go dry. When I scan the swamps, I tend to get stuck. Shit happens, so discovering old new music feels like collateral damage.

I thought I was augmenting my catalog when I ordered a few Crowbar and Cathedral albums last week. Turns out people are far more generous than I could expect, as I split open the mail to find a buyer's bonus in the form of every track Cincinnati's Mollusk ever produced. Three releases in various formats, all sandwiched between Electric Wizard and a pile of stickers. It'll be a while until I complain of being bored.

In under two years, Mollusk have sharpened their meld of ambient, post-metal sludge. Something inside these guys is slowly working its way out. Something unpretty, something massive, something painful. Their 2011 demo offered frantic, jarring retribution peppered with droning interludes. At times, the hum was nearly industrialized, spitting fire and throwing chaotic blades through ambient clouds. Despite being dragged behind a weathered carriage, the movements amid the structures were complex, structurally nebulous progressions. The atmospheres were ominous until the calm was broken in quite primitive ways.

2013's Colony of Machines EP is all these things, yes. The oceanic expanse is more isolated and more meticulously explored, smoothing out the grind and discovering a melody among the melancholy. Shifting Decay staggers with sludgy spite, chomping on uneven terrain to leave listeners nervous via rhythmic uncertainty. The vocal here is distant, not as overtly resistant as previous work. But the vast, lonesome passages shift into torrential hoofed scurries. It'd ring nostaliga, perhaps, but the elements somehow stay parallel with one another and the band's strides are immediately evident.

Hollowed introduces a triptych of celebrated despair, barely breathing at the somber center of nothingness. The cracks deepen, descending slabs find their crashes, and left behind are massive Earth cavities. The interlude-ish title track is pensive and echoed, cavernous but more free than preceding tracks. The trembling plucks craft a balanced reprieve, gently soothsaying without revealing too much. To close on Denisova isn't just massive, it's mature. Things get lower, more dense, and the swirling storm gradually collects adjacent sounds to grow exponentially. The song uses painful reflection to build on itself. The rhythmic shifts never tire, and nine minutes hardly seems like enough time to deliver so much.

Mollusk have steadily introduced more substance, thicker and stickier with more dramatic movements. Drawing things out creates more breathing room, but the numbing buzz is as deafening as ever. Each release is a more exhaustive effort than the last, and the beautiful, destructive amalgam of previous themes is gorgeously unsettling. There's a process here: pick up the pieces, glue them back in place, and cradle the mended whole as it's again thrown from a steep seaside balcony. As each successive track morphs into a larger version of its own being, we wonder if the band will do the same.

For fans of: Rwake, The Atlas Moth, Neurosis
Pair with: Rampant Imperial IPA, New Belgium Brewing

Friday, May 16, 2014

New Band To Burn One To: ¡PENDEJO!

"In 2010, the world was introduced to Holland's latin-infused hard-driving Stoner Rock band Pendejo via their release "Cantos a la Vida". Somehow over the course of the past four years this band has managed to elude the watchful ears of the Heavy Planet staff. With that being said, not only would we like to offer Pendejo as today's "New Band To Burn One To", but would also like to extend our apologies to our Heavy Planet faithful for not featuring this band sooner.

The latest album "Atacames" is a whirlwind of heavy, sincere, in-your face fuzzed-out stoner grooves. Founded by two cousins with a history in Latin America, the band brings a latin-flair to their music by adding vocals grumbled and barked in Spanish and a blaring trumpet that tears right through the devastating riffage.

At the suggestion of Pieter Kloos who has worked with the likes of Barkmarket, Ween and 35007, the band decided to record most of the material live. The album was recorded at The Void Studio in Eindhoven, The Netherlands. The suggestion paid off as the album brings out the band's unbridled energy and passion.

Like an atomic blast to the chest, songs such as the scorching album opener "El Verano del '96" and head-bobber "Amor Y Perenza" leave you lying on the floor gasping for air. The slow warm fuzz of 'Camaron" gives way to a series of shotgun blasts and segues into one fuckin' killer groove not once, but twice, with the second time preceded by a devilish dance of trumpets. By far my favorite track on the album.

   Listen to ¡PENDEJO! now. You'll be glad you did. Excelente!

"Dos" is the album's first "single". Check out the skull-bashing rage right here:

Stream the entire album here:


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Tuesday, May 13, 2014

LP review 'AKAB' by Black Khox

With the opening line of ‘AKAB’ involving a voice over announcing “Respect the cock” (Khok?) you may question as to whether or not Black Khox (again ambiguous?) have their tongues planted firmly in cheeks, especially when on ‘BJ’ they aggressively yell “everyone knows that you suck every cock”. Perhaps it is just simply that they like singing about certain glands, or more likely, they simply don’t give a fuck.

It’s probably fair to think that it’s the later, as the stoner (boner?) sludge ferocity that they lay into is particularly ferocious with its layered pulsating hard (on) guitar riffs striking you with wave after wave of sludgy aggression. With vocals almost indecipherable besides the word ‘cock’, the mammoth instrumentation from the band, hailing from Quebec City, Canada, completely overpowers any need to hear the vocals, so instead that deathly sludge vocal strains become just another instrument in the percussion, more driving force towards their end goal of destruction.

Fast and hard, that’s the way Black Khox do things on their debut, released on D7i records. ‘KONG’ is a standout highlight of this record, with its changes in pace, guitar riffs charging from all directions, and changes in speed tempo to leave beaming sweaty smiles etched on Khox loving fans faces all round. Straight after, the band rip into ‘PARASOL’, and it all just becomes a glorious cacophony of destructive riffs.

Here at Heavy Planet we’ve already suggested that you should burn one to these guys, and not to blow our own trumpets, but by God were we right! But, just remember, as you walk around town displaying the words ‘Black Khox’, remember to not give a fuck! 


Sunday, May 11, 2014

Sunday Sludge: Hunter-Gatherer

If it's not my ears, it's my head. If it's not my head, it's my mind. You can only abuse yourself so badly for so long before your body shows that wear and tear, those warnings finally manifesting themselves outwardly in the form of rickety knees and a whiskey-deepened shake in your voice. These late night, small-club shows offer an outlet, but they also empty my wallet, peel my reality, and make breakfast really suck.

It took a second listen of today's offering to determine the music, not collateral cochlear damage, was the source of immutable, gently deafening buzz. Hunter-Gatherer is a one-man amalgam of drone, sludge, doom, and experimental blackened post-metal shoegaze from Canada's Northwest Territories. None of those descriptors are entirely accurate, and the lot of them hardly begin to illustrate the sound or the purpose. Just as we destroy ourselves with booze and preservatives, so does the entire human race destroy its own natural canvas in the name of progress.

On Demos and the single-track Great Slave Lake, Hunter-Gatherer crafts an expanse of peaks and valleys, filling all free space with the abusive marriage of natural sounds and dissonant interference. The whole of these five instrumental tracks is earthy and cathartic, utilizing what's naturally occurring to supplement mood and purpose. Wendigo's drone is cavernous and somehow humbling, isolating itself amid beautiful organic sounds, yet allowing the interruptions of sputtering technology coming in slow waves.

Pestera cu Oase slowly encircles and hovers until the hum is fractured into jagged shards, piercing catharsis and opening devastation. The loose, sporadic guitar flings dark ash, and the closing tapestries of dirty ice cracking and crashing is barren and unsettling. The wavering drone of Escarpment fills the northern night with static fears, experimental in its intermission. The warped buzz is unwelcoming, the rugged terrain is hardly accessible, and the closing squelch finally puts to rest your Bristol Hum.

We're put back in touch with the land on Kitigaaryuit, a primitive splice of droning thickness. But the synthetic tin armies sneak in, pluck our comforts, and jab us with elemental fears. A slow-motion drift downward only speeds up as nightmarish swirls give us the bends. The punctures grow fewer and farther between, dusting with foolish gold flakes as the creeping fate finally punches through. Again, we're isolated and alone.

The burial of beauty's natural state can't be strongly enough emphasized here. Using absolutely no words, the message smacking us awake and into a jarred sense of realization is that we'll be our own undoing. These songs are pensive and patient, but ultimately they're hopeful the carbon footprint doesn't trend toward a caved-in mudhole. There's beauty in darkness; there's darkness in beauty. When we can simplify, we can sustain. And speaking of sustain...

For fans of: Sunn O))), Claymation, Merzbow
Pair with: Curmudgeon Old Ale, Founders Brewing Co.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

New Band To Burn One To: BULL TERRIER

"If you were one of the lucky ones to get a taste of Bull Terrier's 2012 demo, then you will be definitely be pleased with the outcome of the band's first full-length offering. With the band's signature gruff and whiskey shredded vocals, this 5-piece from Strasbourg, France took the time to expand upon their sound creating an album filled with thoughtful riffing, earth-cracking grooves and a more melodic approach. The band's affinity for 70's bluesy hard rock and 80's doom shines brightly on songs such as "Sometimes They Come Back" and  "Wednesday's Child". Have no fear the fuzz is still here, especially on the rasp-infused track "Firmament". As they say, slow and low that is the tempo and that is the case on the skull-rattling closer "Breath of Life". So kick back, relax, and sink your teeth into this one"

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Sunday Review: EYEHATEGOD

Two years ago, EYEHATEGOD frontman Mike IX Williams told me he and his band hated the term "sludge." Considering the band has spent two and a half decades pioneering the sound, he can call the shit whatever he wants. What's less ambiguous, however, is the NOLA-branded bootprint ExHxG have left behind during their tenure. The band's self-titled fifth album arrives at the end of a path strewn with bumps, potholes, and fallen bridges. Where lesser bands throw in their towels, EYEHATEGOD collect the fragments, lift their heads, and whiten their bloody knuckles.

The band's first full-length studio release since 2000's Confederacy of Ruined Lives fits snugly within their abrasive discography, offering eleven tracks of distortion, corrosion, and revolt. Long-promised and hotly anticipated, the album delivers to fans a perfect amalgam of tradition and progress. Longtime followers can rejoice that the destitute New Orleans torment hasn't slowed one hair, while anyone experiencing ExHxG for the first time can clear their calendar as they eagerly dissect the band's previous landmark efforts.

Phil Anselmo's production captures the band's truest sounds, navigating between screeches, shifted gears, and endless angst. From the onset of Agitation! Propaganda!, feedback is checkered amid thick, chewy riff-rolls and the late Joey LaCaze's drum flurries. The torrid clip re-emerges on Framed to the Wall, a potent blend of hopelessness and distemper. And when Medicine Noose guns its quick-rolling groove, the abrupt close is hardly noticeable with all the hot ash left in your mouth.

But the slower, swinging, stop-motion grind best signals the band's return. Thickening beneath Mike IX's scourge, Trying to Crack the Hard Dollar sways and grinds with sweaty, twisting coils. Robitussin and Rejection allows the guitars to hang with long sustain, chopping on some of the disc's thickest moments. The muddy grooves do seem to find bright moments of near-clarity, but the South is never more than a whisper away. When the riffs rise, the imminent plunge is that much greater for it. The varied viscosity, you realize, is hardly the point.

Distorted, snarled spoken-word broadcasts introduces Flags and Cities Bound, a seven-minute doom highlight. There's no end to the praise and colorful descriptors I could heap onto this track, one that drags us by our heels and slowly extols grief. Opening on a powerful oration, the columns supporting the song's frame are of the heaviest breed, but the descent under a sooty yellow sky can't hold a dim fucking candle to LaCaze's showcase at track's end. Un-fucking-real.

And I can't help it. That sludge label had to go somewhere. The fat, cumbersome The Age of Bootcamp stays low to the ground and marks the album's best evidence that ExHxG have lost zero steam with regard to either mission, energy, focus, or output. Stopping, starting, spiking at the mid-section, these final breaths grind out until an abrasive and jarring overstimulation in the closing minute. It's exhausting. Which reveals exactly what we'd been hoping: these guys still got it.

The EYEHATEGOD trademarks and trackmarks are all here. That's not the surprise, though. These sounds transcend the decades of abuse, both inflicted and received. They could have been laid to tape in 1988 and they'll still resonate decades from now. Call it a refreshing helping of cold truth or a self-inflicted road to warped relapse. Another in a storied, weathered history of blooze-metal NOLA cocktails, EYEHATEGOD find their mark and fucking nail it.

For fans of: You fuckin' kiddin'?
Pair with: In The Name Of Suffering Black India Pale Ale, Three Floyds Brewing

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Exclusive Full Stream: King Dead

Is it fair to say instrumental acts aren't afforded the distraction of punchy vocals or wry lyrics, thus cornering them into a more focused approach and more proficient exploration of sound? Maybe not. But good Goddamn if Pennsylvania's King Dead don't leave you toothless and drained with little more than a whistle. On their self-titled debut EP, the unconventionally-structured trio hammers hot steel and pins bleak, droning tapestries to passing clouds. These five tracks pause, pull back, and deliver a haunt that's increasingly dynamic and impossible to dismiss.

Post-metal sustain is patient and calculated on opener Ghosts Along the Riverbank, while beauty's backside is progressively marred on the ominous, plucky chortles of As One Plows and Breaks Up the Earth, So Our Bones Have Been Scattered at the Mouth of the Grave. Tin walls echo, breaking long-drawn strides to pierce bleak skies and each track offers its own scorched path toward ascension. Utilizing hovering notes (Length of Rope), jitterred intermissions dancing between drum bullets (Drowning in Dust), and an ultimate swell of skull-splitting distortion and collapse (God Makes a Lot of Fucking Promises), this thirty-minute EP is as complete and meaty as any 2014 release.

All colorful descriptors aside, this effort is staggering in its ability to craft a desolate and dreary landscape using drums and bass. King Dead brew dark swirls of hollow escape, taking listeners to a place unique in its marriage of despair and beauty. But nothing written here can quite explain the bounce, the haunt, the movements... Check out the full EP streaming below and gape for yourself.

Friday, May 2, 2014

Heavy Planet's Initiation in the Order of the Owl

In the midst of an east coast tour with fellow Atlantans Volume IV, on the eve of a headlining slot on this year's Eye of the Stoned Goat Festival, and with a new EP release just over the horizon, it's safe to say the guys in Order of the Owl are pretty busy.  But that didn't stop guitarist Casey Yarbrough from taking time out to talk a little shop with Heavy Planet.  Read on to get acquainted with the six string wizard as he discusses his band's formation, his hometown scene, and most importantly new music from Order of the Owl.   

Heavy Planet: So I know that [bassist/vocalist] Brent [Anderson] was originally in Zoroaster and Casey, you've been involved with a number of other bands (Halmos, Demonaut, etc.), so how did the two of you originally come together to start Order of the Owl?

Casey Yarbrough: When Brent parted ways with Zoroaster, he got together with long time friend Corey Pallon to start OotO. Corey knew I had been wanting to get out of the more punk, dissonant, rock and get into something heavier. We jammed together and it stuck well. First song we did was "Class War." 

HP: It’s been a couple of years since the release of In the Noon of the After Day.  When can we expect a new album? 

CY: [It's been] just a bit over a year and a half from its release. With the departure of Corey Pallon it threw off our progress, but Joe has picked up well and we just recorded a 4 song EP.

HP: Is there any chance the new record will be put out on a label or will you be going the independent route again for this one?

CY: [That's] still TBD at this point. 

HP: Do you have a name for the new album yet?

CY: [It's called] The Wolves of True Diamond Hate.

HP: Now you mentioned Corey Pallon who played drums on the first record and I was reading that the reason for him not being able to continue with the band had to do with some unfortunate health concerns.  How has it been transitioning to a new drummer?  

CY: It's been really good. Joe [Sweat] has brought an element to the band that was unexpected, and we have made some real progress.

HP: How did you come up with Joe as Corey’s replacement?

CY: Corey wanted to pick his replacement since he had a lot to do with the band's existence. He picked Joe Sweat and we couldn't be happier.

HP: Are there any differences in Joe’s playing style or perhaps other nuances that he brings to the band that are different from what Corey brought to the table?

CY: Corey had an improv and jazz kind of vibe that he added. The songs meandered a little more and that was fine and good. Joe has brought to the table a steadier and slightly faster vibe. Songs are tighter and we are liking the direction a lot.

HP: Speaking of differences in sound, how does the new material compare to what we heard on In the Noon of the After Day?  What can we expect to hear in the new material?

CY: [The] new stuff is faster.  Joe is adding more vocals, and it's just as heavy. You'll hear it soon enough.

HP: You’re out on tour right now with another Atlanta band, Volume IV and while it seems like little old Savannah gets all the credit for being the burgeoning heavy rock scene in your state, Atlanta doesn’t seem to be doing so badly itself.  Can you talk a little bit about the heavy music scene right now in your city?  Any bands we should be on the lookout for that we may not know about just yet?

CY: Atlanta has a hell of a lot of great bands coming out of it. To name a few...Drop Out, Demonaut, Mangled, Sadistic Ritual, Palaces, Pretty Please, Crawl, Ron Mexico, and so many more that I can't even name them all! 

HP: So can we expect to hear some new material on these current tour dates and at Eye of the Stoned Goat? 

CY: You'll hear the whole EP!

HP: Casey, you’ve been involved in the past with Sourvein as well, is that right?  Are you still playing with those guys? 

CY: My Sourvein days were very limited. But you will hear my guitar work on their new split with Graves at Sea. 

HP: Any other projects we should be keeping an eye on?

CY: [I'm] just really focused on OotO progress.

And you can hear that focus on the band's 2012 debut In the Noon of the After Day, which is available via Order of the Owl's Bandcamp page.  And keep an eye out for the new EP The Wolves of True Diamond Hate, which will be available very soon.

Heavy Planet would like to thank Casey Yarbrough for taking the time to answer our questions.  Be sure to check out Order of the Owl at the following dates:

May 02, 2014 - Buffalo, NY - The Lair w/ Volume IV
May 03, 2014 - Brooklyn, NY - The Acheron w/ Volume IV
May 04, 2014 - Worcester, MA - Ralph's Rock Diner, Eye of the Stoned Goat

Thursday, May 1, 2014

New Band To Burn One To: Hossferatu

"Don't be fooled by the hardcore thrash intro of Hossferatu's self-titled full-length debut. This album rumbles along a like a biker demon from hell. With a vocal delivery that demands your absolute attention, this bombastic amalgamation of seismic stoner riffs, bluesy doom tempos and grimey metal sludge this is just what the doctor ordered. The slow and demonic head-bobbing groove of "Throat" highlights what lies ahead. Tracks such as "Wound" and "Waterhead" hiss and moan like a venomous serpent ready to strike. Riff after glorious riff this initial release from Hossferatu will have you in it's grasp and will only let up with one final furious moment as the album comes to a barreling conclusion. Bad ass to the nth degree!"

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