Sunday Smoke: Leather Lung - "Reap What You Sow"

Some things need to be experienced without distraction. Isn't that what Kyuss instructed? If you're gonna smoke yourself stupid, the perfect sidecar is the grimiest, steadiest stoner-sludge within arm's reach. But more important is to isolate the experience with decent headphones. After all, do you really want your mom coming downstairs, interrupting your session to complain about that racket?

Speaking of your mom, she looks great on the cover of Leather Lung's Reap What You Sow. Four New Englanders, five smokey cruisers, and twenty-seven minutes are all you need to make today lazy, hazy, and stickier than your stepdad's backseat. And it's okay if you don't wanna share.

A familiar stoner fuzz permeates the album, immediately evident on Burning Out. The opener rips with riffs and heavy hits, repeatedly parting the basement haze with fuzz licks that lift us into another atmosphere. Mike's vocal is little else but shards and splinters, spit hot and angry. But these rueful reflections can hardly pull you away from a Sunday sit down with your shadiest pals. The quick follow-up Green Bitch is stoner-punk sneer with a staggering gait, set off by Ben's potholed path. As we struggle for balance, Zach's blistering licks steady our hand. But these lungs are filling up and these eyes have grown heavy, bro.

An all-out embrace of loser-dom follows on the album's back end. Stone by Stone bruises behind heady buzz and riffs accumulate upon themselves. In short, the thickness is gonna coat your throat before lulling you with a cool, indian-circle sense of comfort. Don't get too cozy, though... "Third eye opens, two eyes close"? We're smoked silly and burnt into oblivion. Jesse's bass plucks introduce Moth to the Flame, offering a complete vocal tandem that juxtaposes itself. As a sandstorm develops, Leather Lung lift the tempo and swallow everything in sight. The slow to a sludgy stumble is as sticky as it is heavy. The transition to the closing Repack/Relight is swampy and strangely cathartic, snagging spacey elements to aggravate the swell. Screeches offer a bit of unease, but a slow strip of excess counters buzz-backed thumps as we ultimately, finally fall to a knee.

Leather Lung see no need to justify the fog. The bake is why you wake, so fuck the nickel and dime façade. Start to finish, Reap What You Sow sifts for stems and seeds, enveloping listeners with a viscous hybrid of low-slung, low-freuqency Acapulco Gold. Heshers generally have no shortage of free time. But rarely do they make such good use of it as with these five nugs.

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EP Review - "BongCauldron" by BongCauldron

 

The UK's BongCauldron get their green teeth stuck into 2014 with their debut release, the self titled "BongCauldron" released on Superhot Records, which contains 5 hits of big fuzzed, low down and pleasingly dirty stoner/doom metal with a big heap of sludge added to the deep bowl. Describing themselves as "Occult Intoxicating Doomfuck" they play "Coma-inducing, oppressive riffs" that, after the first hit will leave your head at first rattling with huge fuzz noise and then totally crushed by the billowing clouds of doom smoke delivered by BongCauldron.

"Tree Wizard" is the first hit from the bowl and from brief feedback that surges up your spine the riffs hit hard in a huge wave of weedian grooves and harsh sludge vocals that can only be coughed up from the lungs of a master bongsman. The hit rattles intensely with a catchy but pulverizing riff while violently bashed percussion drives the groove directly into your THC receptors leaving you all itchy eye'd and couch locked.

BongCauldron don't appreciate lightweights so another big hit is forced upon you with "Pissed Up" and a jammed out bass line that leads to another surge of THC fueled riff smoke that burns your lungs and steals the feeling from your legs. The groove in this hit unfolds and morphs from a stoned exultation to fast paced sludge paranoia and back again in a thick haze of slow and low then heart racing waves of impending doom.
The final minute of "Pissed Up" is incapacitated under a heavy blanket of droning sludge that briefly rises in fits and starts of stoned riffs until it all breaks down into screeching feedback.

Just when you're entering the dribbling sleepy zone BongCauldron wake you up with "Vehemence", a punch in the face offered as a big hit of some tearing thrash sludge, stinking of an EYEHATEGOD strain of heavy punk/metal. Double kicks over sludge grime make this a violently dirty hit of powerful smoke that gradually settles and slows as it takes effect and an almost relaxing fuzz tone slows to a near stop before a movement of upbeat bass precedes a surge of stoned excitation. The hit takes us then on a blaze of stoner metal elevations that rocket spaceward leaving a trail of colorful psychedelic smoke and fire.

Then comes "Gimp Jig", the biggest hit so far and one that fills the bowl with a blend of big stinky sludge and tasty bass grooves that jam out a satisfying churn of stoner and sludge metal not unlike those other dopelords Weedeater, Bongzilla and Sleep. The hit lurches along sloth-like and very highly baked until half way when a sudden rise in energy teases the senses before a heavier, slower and even more turgid sludge-out pins you to your couch. The filth then gives way to a fuzz rattling bass line and uplifting guitar riffwork which builds to a firestorm of stoner metal dedication to blow off the sludge steam; creating a gratifying hit from the BongCauldron which really hits the spot.

With the high of the previous hit still lingering, the 5th and final hit "Gauze Rite" carries forward the stoner metal dedication with satiating, repetitively heavy riffs that tumble forward with the aid of big grough, lung scorched vocals. At the half way point phazers are set to stoner-doom and so a thundering of stoner and doom metal rumbles and rattles the rafters and then builds to a bong lifting anthem that shows where BongCauldron's green hearts love to dwell.

These 3 dopelords have finely blended the rough with the groove in their heavy BongCauldron and have managed to deliver 5 hits of high grade weedian doom and sludge metal from the same strain as the bands I have already mentioned above. Go to their Bandcamp now so BongCauldron can pack your bowl tightly with their satisfying rendition of weed praising heavy metal.

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Sunday Sludge: Ladybird

Better late than never? The landlord won't let you get away with that shit, man. He also can't stand all the complaining from your neighbors upstairs. The knocks couldn't disrupt your weed coma, he can't collect, and the fuzz from below ain't exactly keepin' Bruce's feet warm. I spent a bit too much time livin' the high life and now it's just me and a few dusty records sorting out ends and pieces.

2013 is gone, but look what just fell outta my pocket. Phoenix trio Ladybird released a pair of puffed-out albums that display their range and their hazy focus. It took damn near a half-year, but I was... uh, busy. Offering spacey psych on Spliff & Wesson and hillbilly doom on Tombstoned, Ladybird may be the most prolific riff-wringing band you haven't heard. I hope you brought snacks; ah, Saladitos! Perfecto.

I wasn't sure where to start, and it probably doesn't matter. Spliff & Wesson is the tandem's cosmic haze, echoing with pans and warbles for twenty-four minutes of long drags. Numbness creeps in and your ears are gonna itch from the collected fuzz, progressively lumbering upward and outward. The growl revealed between shrill, spiking stalagmite licks rips with malevolence, so when you flip the cassette to Nossew & Ffilps, you'd better make sure the balance of your buzz doesn't rest on paranoia. Yes, you knew this would happen. Ladybird eliminated the dirty work for us and flipped their psychedelic stoner-doom square on its ass. And it's awesome.  

When you're ready to come down, have a seat with Tombstoned's Intro, a bayou-plucked reprieve that's wholly misleading. Five and a half clicks is hardly enough time to clean up, but it's reflective, soothing, and clear by comparison. Weedy doom rolls in on Papers, crashing through your trailer wall like a jilted lover after uncovering the truth. The drone tapestry shakes with every interruptive riff, and Ladybird strike hard and often. Repetitive, reverberative riffage introduces the crushing No Reason, a blow after blow punishment for the glutton. There's even an astral nod to S&W, glowing through bed sheet window treatments until the furry beast returns. Ending your trip with the twenty-two minute Marble Orchard may be the best or worst decision you'll make today. Doom landmines are promised at every step, so steady your stare and tread lightly.

You're gonna have fun with these releases. You'll discover occasional parallels, and Ladybird's divergent paths hardly pose a red pill/blue pill dilemma. Shit, take 'em both. Just know your limits and don't test them. If you've got the time, you'll have fun tackling both Spliff & Wesson and Tombstoned on a Sunday drive. And if you've lost your steam, put Ladybird's leftovers in the fridge and enjoy them tomorrow. Heavy Planet honors and showcases stoner rock, doom metal, sludge metal, and psychedelia. Sounds like Ladybird fucking nailed it!

For fans of: Weedeater, Sleep, Salem's Pot
Pair with: Raison D'Etre, Dogfish Head Craft Brewery

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Sunday Sludge: BongCauldron

Having some trouble waking up this morning? Shit, tell me about it. I struggle to find the link between independence and watching your friends get flat-faced and belligerent, but that doesn't mean I won't participate. We cut England's umbilical cord and what remains is a fleshy stump of excess and confusion. You have to wonder how many uncles and neighbors wake up on July 5th and thank America for the pounding in their heads. But a four-day bender? Even our town drunk has more sense.

Lucky for us, the relationship we ugly Americans have with the motherland has been long repaired and we can share back-and-forth our finest meats and cheeses. Kippers and mutton sound great, sure. But the thought of salted meat did little to sway me from repeatedly playing BongCauldron's Pissed Up. An appetizer of sorts, the track does more to rouse the hunger than bed 'er down. The band have an EP in the works, so we'll need a few pints to quell the pangs.

But let's talk about Pissed Up. The immediate stomp and screech roll-out is as groovy as it is torturous, while the shifting rhythms lay to waste any hope of sitting still. Thick with filth and echoing a blues structure a la Eyehategod, BongCauldron roll out a soiled carpet only to bludgeon their own guests. The abrasive sludge mentality is full-tilt here, while the fuzz has a numbing component that's both the cause of and solution to your unpinned burning sensation. There's really no relent on the track, evidenced by the introductory sustain, the incessant crash of cymbals, and the Lemmy-channeled vocal that's a brick-toothed snarl in your ear. The closing seconds are straight-up slow-motion sickness, fists in the air and cocks in your soup.

For the time being, there's a glimmer of despair in the form of BongCauldron's youtube page. The doomy, drudging stagger of Gimp Jig is a slow spin into delta-infused insanity. Emerging from the swamp only long enough to spit acid at your feet, the expansive passages allow the rhythms to drown at their own pace. Clouds circle and threaten, and the buzz buries any calm whisper. These thirteen minutes knock on every door, melting more than a pinch of soothing southern guitar into a hearty stew of blood and rocks.

Whatever drips from BongCauldron's beards promises to maintain the filth and the fury, growling on the backs of a teaser single and strong live reviews. There's an undeniable weed-sludge shuffle that clings to every note, but the blues influence and deliberate execution warrant a separation from the band's contemporaries. All listeners can do is hope these guys get this fucking record out before we all starve. And hey, Pissed Up is a free bandcamp download. Set the table, dear.

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