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!

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Sunday Stoner-Sludge: Disastroid - "Missiles"


Soccer games, allergy meds, and ridiculous waves from non-friends tend to characterize my Autumns. One exhausting sneeze follows another as my fucking kids amp the tempo and I stab my fucking eye with a sharp stick. Can't we just head home, make dinner, and watch animated drivel until you lose steam and I can carry you to soft dreams, kid? Ha, whoa... "fuck you, Dad!" Sunday translates to salvation, and today's saviors may be the year's best.

California's Disastroid weave a tight sludge-noise tapestry of frayed nerves on Missiles, eight shifty tip-toed exercises of varying speeds and styles that blur lines between genres and likely inject more scope-stretching sounds than any release featured in the Sunday Sludge of 2014. Not exactly accessible, not exactly unsettling, not exactly less-than-awesome, Disastroid click through thirty-five minutes balancing grind and buzz, never quite abandoning a meter that makes you believe they're smarter than you. And they don't care.

Opening slow on Lost in Space may be the band's greatest ruse, hitting hard with abrupt collapse and snuffing comfort. The whisper-scream dynamic is never as pretentious as you'd expect, the un-hinged approach being less important to the trio than their dinner plans. Through shrill ice and the warp of convention, Disastroid immediately announce their bass-driven leveling of standards. But Bird Watcher is somehow more welcoming with its deceptively clean gait. Repetitive and numbing, the track contains elements of 90's buzz that balance the noisy and the focused, making them (somehow) more unsettling. Jagged, jarring rhythms begin characterizing the sound and wagging tongues.

Haunt and fog are never out of reach, though. Unsound Mind spaces through a bayou and grows more eerie with passing moments. Enver's vocals find their marquee here, establishing a cautious trust by calling out your flaws. Buoyant, heavily-caked rhythms harken Failure's best moments, grinding a bit before mudding and hazing. To bottom-line things, Disastroid won't let your bullshit go unnoticed.

The disc's back-end triptych may wind up being one of 2014's crowning achievements. Mighty Road sounds like sunny Sunday morning kitchen appliances when you're NOT hungover, punchy and patient until guitar noise grows atop a Helmet-ish stop/start tempo. The track shifts, dodges labels, and the scratchy unfurl is pretty awesome. When the cold-stone ending passage eases into Obeah, we're abruptly faced with the album's slickest smack. Loaded with angst and shaken-head judgments, vocal barbs peel off the wheels a la Whores. and the late Akimbo. The evolution is frightening and enthralling as listeners watch patterns and plans totally fucking dissolve.

And oh, that title track. Subtle entry, escalation, a slight hope for escape... What a cool fucking track, buzzing like your first car and fully-aware of its own strength, this juggernaut is a tense juxtaposition of piqued guitars and cool, steady rhythms. Sprinkling the landscape with hope is a cruel exercise when you consider the long, drawn-out saturation of reality on the horizon. Every element is showcased, and all corners of this band's directives are finally revealed. Maybe we weren't supposed to smile in the first place.

Spacey escalations and grounded assertions are just one of the myriad of Missiles's accomplished marriages. This stoner-sludge effort is so much more than hazy jams or drudging rhythms. Try as they might, Disastroid never let the noise detract from their proficiency. Is your stepdad gonna beat you awake or is he gonna wait for you to figure out things for yourself? It's hard to tell. Disastroid's soundtrack to your bruised walk to school won't boost your ego. It's just gonna take a nuanced approach toward your self-improvement. Self-improvement? Shit... by year's end, you'll be at your scabby best.

For fans of: Melvins, Whores., Failure
Pair with: Rosa Hibiscus Ale, Revolution Brewing



Thursday, September 25, 2014

THREE FOR THURSDAY: Desert Suns, Village, Monsternaut

For whatever the reason, there is that certain something in a band that stands out and makes them a bit unique in their own way. For the most part, the bands in this genre have a lot of similarities and tend to start to sound a lot alike. In this post I have featured three bands that have worked their way deep into my psyche and will not let go. With that being said, please enjoy the following three amazing bands!



Desert Suns-With old school flair and charisma this band from San Diego, CA., summons up a sun-drenched haze of doomy riffs, touches of prog and heavy desert groove. Favorite tracks: "Burning Temples", "Space Pussy" and "Run Through My Roots".

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Village- Call me a sucker for instrumental stoner music, but this band hailing from Philadelphia, PA does it right. There is a certain beauty in the melodies that perks up and astonishes my ears. The muddied guitar tone is striking and the organ gives the feeling of evil. Only one other band has done it right in recent years as well as these guys and that is Tumbleweed Dealer. Icing on the cake would be a full-length. Favorite tracks: The entire EP.





Monsternaut-How can you go wrong with stoner riffs over a revving motor to introduce you to a band? The fuzz on this EP is fucking glorious. This band hails from Kerava, Finland and is pretty much just straight up Stoner Rock. Obviously influenced by the almighty Fu Manchu amongst others, the band tears up the asphalt with their high octane, riff-driven grooves. The singer for some reason reminds me of Iggy Pop. Favorite tracks: "Dog Town", "Mountain Doom" and "Black Horizon".



Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Noisey Presents NOLA: Life, Death And Heavy Blues From The Bayou Episode 1



Today Noisey, the music arm of VICE, is proud to present NOLA: Life, Death And Heavy Blues From The Bayou, episode 1. A seven-part series examining the people and the culture that helped foster bands like Down, Eyehategod, Crowbar, and so many others, episode 1 features New Orleans native Phil Anselmo who exports his style to Dallas band Pantera, thereby changing the landscape for metal in the '90s. Meanwhile, a visit from the Melvins to the New Orleans area would alter music as we know it, while Kirk Windstein of the band Shell Shock was discovering that slower was, for him, indeed heavier.

Starring: Members of Down, Pantera, Eyehategod, Crowbar, Corrosion Of Conformity, Goatwhore, and more, Noisey delves in deep with the NOLA natives on Tuesdays and Thursdays starting TODAY

Watch Episode One:



Watch Episode Two:



Watch Episode Three:



Watch Episode Four:



Watch Episode Five:



Watch Episode Six:



Watch Episode Seven:




Sunday, September 21, 2014

Sunday Sludge: Sploof


Sometimes, it's all in the name. Sploof caught my eye with their overt endorsement of hiding the evidence. I expected slow-rolling riffage and a wicked haze. What I didn't expect was to play these two tracks on a repeated loop for hours on a Sunday morning. I planted myself in bed about six hours ago and can't believe I'm saying this, but this band is making it impossible for me to catch a few more winks.

After conducting an extensive online search for "Sploof," I've found plenty of information my boss never needs to know about. I'm offered hope by the words "demo clip" at the end of each track title, leading one to believe these are pieces of more extensive, exhaustive sonic sessions. White Widow and Granddaddy Purple are seemingly seasoned heavy-hitters on par with sludge metal's lumbering titans, those worshipping the Yesca. This tandem offers resinous sludge-doom laced with swinging, swaying riffage of epic dimensions. Grab the dryer sheets and blast this fucker at a volume your parents won't test.

The unfiltered, cavernous sonic resonations of White Widow break into viscous stoner-sludge-doom-drone elements of unmatched viscosity. Guitar acmes pepper the dense riff drills and the coughing fits are simply collateral damage. Granddaddy Purple, on the other hand, clobbers with more oblivious abandon. Chugging only fast enough to avoid getting fully stuck in shit. The choppy stutter is fucking glorious, and the passages of illuminating embers craft a landscape littered with cymbals and distortion that pans and ends all-too-abruptly.

Hey, Sploof... If you're reading this, hit me up. I wanna hear more.

For fans of: Sabbath, Bongzilla, Weedeater
Pair with: Extreme Intensage American Imperial IPA, Solemn Oath Brewery



Friday, September 19, 2014

LP review: 'Welter Through The Ashes' by RODHA




Two years ago a five track monolithic sludgy-doom masterpiece was released in the form of German group RODHA’s demo EP Raw, gathering a collective to gasp breath and say “Oh Holy Fuck!” as layer upon layer of devastating riffs and pounding mounds of destruction caved in to your skull in a glorious release of energy. Now, a larger collection of people get to stand up and roar from the depths of their guts as finally the band’s debut full-length has arrived, and it redefines the word OHMYGODTHISISSOFRICKINGHEAVYANDAWESOME.

Welter Through The Ashes may well soon be considered a game changer, an album where others spend their carers trying to capture just a hint of their stench, to muster even a fraction of the venomous power which extrudes through every orifice. The record opens with ‘Tresor’, six-and-a-half minutes of massive riffs and hell-spawned vocals, something many bands could only contemplate in their wet dreams, starting with quickened sludge before moulding into a doomier ending; it echoes the soul of what makes RODHA. With Mo Posch’s vocals sounding at their crushingly brutal best, you find yourself gripping your fist menacingly tight as he yells “What the fuck did you expect?” through the record’s face-melting title track.

If you make it further into the record without being completely crushed under the band’s devastation, there’s a sense of heavy beauty in the emotion to be found in tracks such as the empowerment and anger of ‘Overloaded’  (a slightly more polished version than the one found on Raw), and the charging desperation of ‘On Solid Grounds’, create layers to RODHA not found in too many other bands playing at such relentless aggression. RODHA create devastating powerful sounds and craft them into quite impressive moments a singular masterful songs whose essence don’t get lost in the mire, but rather guide it.

The record ends how their demo Raw began, with ‘Bliss’, a song about self-realisation and being fully content with who you are, not living the life of someone else, and it’s a crushingly powerful statement you can scream out as your fist pounds the air in rhythmic death-blows. RODHA have created a truly stunning debut record in Welter Through The Ashes, something which lives up to all of the promise and expectation met with their demo Raw (read what Seth thought about it in his Sunday Sludge). To every band reading this, RODHA have raised the bar, are you ready?

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Heavy Planet's Reader Takeover Volume 5

Have you ever listened to a band and said to yourself...holy shit is that band awesome , I wish more people could hear them? Well, here is your chance! Similar to Sirius Radio's Liquid Metal in which a fan guest DJs playing some of their favorite tunes, you the reader are here to takeover the pages of Heavy Planet for the day. Today's edition features five bands courtesy of Muhammad Athif from Indonesia. 

To those that have participated in our "Reader Takeover" we truly appreciate your time. Unfortunately, we did not get as many requests as we had hoped for this feature and will no longer be accepting submissions.

Now, on with the show...


1. Seringai

The fastest southern rock thrashers alive in my country, it's a combination of Sabbath and Motorhead and other influences from Kyuss to Turbonegro.


((facebook))

2. Komunal

They started as a grindcore band, but now they play stoner metal and prehistoric heavy metal sounds.


((twitter))

3. Auman

The freshmen in the scene, they released their debut in 2013 as a catchy southern heavy rock from Palembang, North Sumatra.


((twitter))

4. Suri

Maybe they are the one that can really beat Sleep on the stage. The trio stoner from Jakarta.


((facebook))

5. Matiasu

Here comes the stoner doom hero from my country. Recently released their EP entitled Doom Dance.



((twitter))

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Sunday Sludge: Fistula - "Vermin Prolificus"


If you expected to pour some coffee and breathe in some crisp morning air on your front porch, you've come to the wrong fucking place. I've said it before: Cleveland's Fistula are never gonna make you feel good. Through various lineups and countless EP's, splits, and full-length albums, these snarling scumfucks have consistently drawn distinct lines between societal classes and never been burdened by things like tact or nuance. Whether its a low, pensive groove or a breakneck pull on your tie as your teeth are beaten in, Fistula's overt violence is ever-present.

On Vermin Prolificus, thirty-five ticks of abrupt tempo shifts and screeching, stabbing guitars canvas larger truths. These seven tracks are less symptomatic of Oppositional Defiant Disorder and more indicative of the human condition's natural response to authoritative bullshit. Nowhere is this more evident than on Pig Funeral, a slow-simmered revolt slung low and hot and brimming with cracked-tooth spite. Rhythms churn and wave a fist in the fat faces of power, evolving toward a blistering close that repeatedly bloodies its knuckles on sharp bone.

For all the vile sludge bubbled underfoot, however, the band is never a hair away from lashing your back with a barbed rod. Spitting back to 2012's Northern Aggression EP, Harmful Situation and Sobriety are slightly reworked, slightly shorter, and seemingly more destructive with this go. And the contempt displayed on Upside Down is a call not just to authority, but to mainstream society as a whole. And the shit-caked trudging tempo is like an added bonus.

But Vermin Prolificus makes its boldest assertions on lengthier exercises. Smoke Cat Hair and Toenails is fuzz-coated sludge marked by violent, screeching pulls. Again, the sounds are absolutely foul and filth-laden. Moments of torrid tension are broken by hard coughs, assisting to uncover grimy truths of contemporary youth. The slugs come slow and poisonous, evoking incredibly dark imagery consistent with the middle finger this album throws in the face of convention. The title track is similarly jarring and unsettling, utilizing drawn-out, splintered extraction via drug-fueled samples. Layers continue to emerge, wounds work deeper, and slow-burning ruminations reveal (somewhat) rational explanations of drug distribution and addiction. We were never promised a sunny day, but Fistula reveal that endless pain has an endless dark solution. These thirteen minutes are the sonic equivalent of picking scabs off your face and kicking your kids. Not unlike a junkie, this track simply can't escape the grips of its own demons.

There's too much going on here to bottom-line it with one summation. Each of the seven tracks on Vermin Prolificus is a bold fucking assertion (especially the album's final moment on Goat Brothel, whew). Short-tempered and fed up, this album is a slowly corroding, synthetic-smoked nightmare flogging us as we scratch for daylight. The screeches and abrasions are the effect here, not the cause. What you're really hearing is yourself, your community, and our society inches away from collapsing under the weight of a fake smile. How much longer you think you can stand it?

For fans of: Angst, piss, pills, scabs, Gummo, malcontent, broken teeth, glass, burnt hair, and whatever the fuck is rotting in your basement.

Pair with: Meth



Sunday, September 7, 2014

Sunday Cinema: Slow Southern Steel



Half the bands I love stomp south of the Mason-Dixon line. For all the dribbling of these exhaustive Sunday Sludge posts, I've spent the last few years never succinctly outlining exactly WHY these sounds are distinctly Southern, likely due to geography's shortcomings. The grit and groove of Southern metal is unique, powerful, and impossible to stuff into a box of labels or expectations. Sure, Portland has its place. The Southwest is buzzing with anger and fuzz. Greece, Hungary, and Denmark have all bred incredible sludge acts tattooing the genre's landscape. But let's be fuckin' serious: Sludge metal owes everything to the American Southeast (Texas, we'll let you in, too).

Rwake's Chris Terry has (sort of) finally unveiled Slow Southern Steel, a documentary wholly devoted to a dissection of Southern metal. What sets apart Southern sludge metal? What influenced acts like EYEHATEGOD and Jucifer? And what's with the fuckin' flag of the Confederate States? You'd be surprised. Loaded with booze, beards, and an alarmingly warm dose of unmatched brotherhood, this documentary highlights an under-appreciated musical niche via candid interviews, blunt assertions, and no shortage of flattening live stage footage. If you weren't raised in the South, you won't sound like the South. And they'll know it.

Strong family ties, nostalgia, religion, and unending uphill battles are just a few of Slow Southern Steel's triumphant reveals. This "dirt circuit" survives on familial bonds and realistic expectations. Word o' mouth is more important than social media, and there's no shame in sharing a disco-based rebellion. Beautifully-realized gravel road imagery complements the sounds, the stories, and the impact of a scene so ripe with mutual respect and appreciation that it's damn-near overwhelming. This film perfectly explains the things I can't. I'm just a dude who loves Acid Bath. But this is a film that helps me understand why.


For fans of: Rwake, EYEHATEGOD, Acid Bath, Buzzov-en, Dark Castle, Hank III, Dixie Witch, Down, HAARP, COC, Arson Anthem, Black Tusk, Kylesa, Deadbird, Seahag, Beaten Back to Pure, Alabama Thunderpussy, (the) Melvins, Music Hates You, Outlaw Order, Mastodon, Goatwhore, Soilent Green, Lamb of God, Sourvein, Assjack, Weedeater, ANTiSEEN, Hawg Jaw, Crowbar, Hail! Hornet, Zoroaster, A Hanging, and countless fucking other bands you already love.

Pair with: Pabst Blue Ribbon tallboys, one after another



Friday, September 5, 2014

LP Review: Local Solo by Cardiel




There’s something about two-piece bands that just ooze energy, perhaps it’s the 200% effort they give to make up for the missing members, maybe it’s just the raw passion of owning the spotlight, that every moment is given greater authority. Whatever that spirit is, duos are appearing in increasing numbers, making it less of a niche thing, however, none of them hurl as many screams, thrash as many riffs, thump as much destruction, or serge as much adrenaline as Cardiel. These guys are gonna do their best to fuck you up!

Based in Valencia, Mexico City, the punk-dub-stoner-metal-psychedelic pairing of Samantha Ambrosio (drums, vocals) and Miguel Fraino (guitar, vocals) is as ferocious as much as it is euphoric. Based around an underlying love of skateboarding, the duo have crafted a record which throws you around the room by the neck from a thousand miles an-hour with their breakneck speed thrashing, to grinding to a dub-step-reggae halt with droned out grooves. Local Solo is as unsettling as it is exhilarating.

Whether you’re racing down the highway on a board or not, the sheer youthful aggressive riffs that Cardiel thrash out are staggering in their depth, pace, and time scale. If you knew where tracks such as ‘Tabla’ or ‘STYG’ were heading then you’d be a liar as their sheer power keeps you gripped and desperate to hear every last frenetic riff and venomous spat vocal. When you think you’ve got an idea of what the band  are about, they throw you into three minutes of dub reggae at the end of  ‘Preveral en el Coping’, or slap you across the face with gut-busting atomic riffs on ‘Sheriff Hernandez’.

What must not be lost amongst all of the riffs and thunderous drumming is the musical prowess of these two. Such dramatic turns of pace, changes of not just time signatures, but crossings of genres, feeding off of each others’ baited breath, to craft songs of coherence alone would be impressive, never mind the sheer beauty of their youthful destruction.

Cardiel cannot be held down and pigeonholed into fitting into genres or categories, they are a bomb in mid explosion, filling every space with their raw and brutal energy, and often devastating musical ability. For an album to give your day a severe kick to the head, Local Solo is a must.

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