I've been a music fan since my parents gave me a record player for Christmas when I was still in grade school. The first record I remember owning was "Sesame Street Disco." I've been a professional writer since 2004, but writing long before that. My first published work was in a middle school literary magazine and was a story about a zoo in which the animals could talk.
I’m not sure what is most impressive about Yardsss‘ new album, Cultus. Is it the epic riffs? The space / stoner jams influenced by early Pink Floyd? The way invites you to get lost in it like a hedge maze?
It might be that the entire album was improvised. Yes, Krist Kreuger, Robin Levy, and Paul Schaefer made up this entire record as they went along – completely trusting each other and letting the journey take them to unknown places.
It’s only three tracks (“Cultus I,” “Cultus II,” and, you guessed it, “Cultus III”), but the first two are over seven minutes each and the third is almost twenty-two minutes in length. All three are stunning pieces. “Cultus I” builds to a spacewalk playlist jam with swollen riffs, rolling drums, and rocket fuel synths. “Cultus II” dives straight into the deep end of the hard rock pool with furious riffs and then swims to the shallow end for a shot of tequila for a bit.
“Cultus III” could be a transmission from V-ger in the first Star Trek movie for all I know. It’s weird, wild, and cosmic. It rolls along like a war machine across a Jack Kirby-drawn landscape in a Kamandi comic.
It’s a stunning piece of work, and proceeds from its sale go to charities that focus on homelessness and prisoners. You can’t miss.
I love the cover of BRANDY‘s new LP, The Gift of Repetition. It’s a bunch of broken smartphones and ink blots that, if you look at them just right, spell out the record’s title. I can’t help but wonder if the pictured phones ended up in such a state from being dropped in mosh pits at BRANDY shows because the record is a fury of punk rock that is perfect for shaking you out of your smartphone-induced zombie state.
Opener “(Wish You Was) Madball Baby” has a great, yes, repetitive post-punk drum and bass beat while sings / yells about the desire that a lover would just go off the hinges now and then. The guitars on “Dangle” deftly move back and forth between roars and fuzzy fills.
“I’m Shipping Up to Boston” might have you stomping the gas pedal if you hear it while driving. It’s like fuel injection for your bloodstream that will have you turning into a bobblehead. The bass licks on “UFO’s 2 Heaven” are great, and the whole tune bumps with punk attitude and “We’ve got these chops and we’re going to flaunt them.” spirit.
“Christmas Colors” adds synths to the mix to make you turn and mess with your head and confound you with lyrics like “Wearing my red and greens, mistletoe magazines.” The jingle bells are also a nice touch. “Clown Pain” might be about kinky sex, as the band keeps yelling, “Thank you for my clown pain!” over fun and loud guitar chords before it devolves into trippy synth sludge. “Text Home” has the heaviest, fuzziest bass on the whole record – which I love. “Insane Screensaver” closes the album with New York Dolls-like swagger and kiss-off lyrics like, “Guess what? Your mommy don’t care!”
This is a fun punk rock record. We need more stuff like this right now, especially as winter bears down on us here in the U.S. We need to be slapped awake and encouraged to jump on our beds and dance around our places as we self-isolate, and this is a great record for that soundtrack.
Nashville power-psych trio All Them Witches came back this year with one of their heaviest and possibly most philosophical albums yet – Nothing As the Ideal. The album’s title suggest either that there is nothing ideal out there, or, as I suspect, nothingness / emptiness / stillness is the ideal. It’s what we should all dwell in at least a few minutes a day to remind us that the moment around us is the only thing there is. All Them Witches make this point by flattening you with rock.
“Saturnine & Iron Jaw” has a title like a Heavy Metal comic and hits as hard as, well, iron. It begins with creepy synths and bells, bubbling like a cauldron about to come to boil, which the song does with metal riffs that would make make many bands jealous. Singer / bassist Michael Parks, Jr. sings about higher forces of perception and nothing as the ideal as the “gentle hand of confusion” leads him back to himself. “Enemy of My Enemy” chugs along with the best doom bands out there as Parks warns us to beware his power and drummer Robby Staebler puts down serious, serious fills. “Everest” is a guitar solo from Ben McLeod that lasts just over two minutes and gives us time to breathe (and admire his playing).
The loops of someone saying hi to their friends or relatives at the beginning of “See You Next Fall” is downright creepy, and the synths that go with it are something out of a horror film. Soon, Parks is asking if he “should lay the hammer down” as he lays down a wicked bass groove. “The Children of Coyote Woman” continues the “Coyote Woman” saga that has been told across multiple ATW albums by now. It covers one of the band’s favorite topics – mythology and tall tales.
If you believe Douglas Adams, then “41” is just short of the answer to life, the universe, and everything. ATW might be looking for the answer amid their shredding riffs and thunderous drumming, but they also might not want to know it. Sometimes the mystery is better, and could mere mortals truly comprehend such knowledge? “Lights Out” chugs along like a barely controlled eighteen-wheeler hauling a tanker of gasoline while being chased by a werewolf motorcycle gang.
The closer, “Rats in Ruin,” is over nine minutes of simmering psychedelia that puts just enough reverb on Parks’ vocals to make them sound like he’s a ghost living underwater singing about the inevitability of death and the folly of worrying about it. The song almost fades out and then builds back up into a soaring, majestic track with McLeod’s guitar flying over you like a roc and Staebler’s drums roaring like a bison herd.
The album gives you a lot in a short time, leaving you with more questions than answers. The questions are ones of self-exploration, however, and, if you come up with nothing at the end of the search…Well, that’s ideal.
Under the Spell of Joy, the new album from Death Valley Girls, was created with somewhat of a “first thought, best thought” mentality in that the band (Bonnie Bloomgarden – guitar, synths, and vocals, Larry Schemel – guitar, Nicole “Pickle” Smith – bass and vocals, Rykky Styxx – drums) had some ideas for the direction of the record but decided not to force anything. They just let the album…happen.
The result is a pretty cool record. Opening track “Hypnagogia” is about the moments when you’re almost asleep and susceptible to vivid, quick dreams and flashes of inspiration. The song, with it’s smoky saxophone by Gabe Flores and organ chords from Gregg Foreman, reminds me of T. Rex songs if T. Rex were more goth than glam. “Hold My Hand” has Bloomgarden asking for human connection in a year when it became rare. Styxx plays a great garage beat throughout it. The title track starts off with “Under the spell of joy, under the spell of love.” chanted before Bloomgarden and Smith sing about the wages of sing and Flores’ saxophone mimics the sound of sailors wailing on the rocks after they realize they’ve been brought in by sirens.
“Bliss Out” is lovely psych-pop. The gritty synths on “Hey Dena” melt into a psychedelic haze that is beautiful to hear and feel. “The Universe” keeps up this psychedelic trend but lifts it (and us) into orbit as planets align. “Everybody is everybody else. Nobody is by themselves,” Bloomgarden sings…and she’s right. “It All Washes Away” deals with one of my favorite subjects – impermanence, and how it isn’t to be feared.
“Little Things” has a fun, jaunty groove with some surf hints dropped in for good measure. “10 Day Miracle Challenge” is a raucous, slamming rocker about tapping your inner power to turn around your life. “I’d Rather Be Dreaming” could sum up everyone’s feeling about 2020, and it’s a cool, sultry track to boot. The title of the closer, “Dream Cleaver,” is a clever take on Robin Wright’s “Dream Weaver” and is a lovely, uplifting psych-rock track to send us out on an optimistic note.
We can all be under the spell of joy if we will it. If all of us will it, all will benefit. If even one of us will it, others will benefit. “It’s yours to find,” DVG say. Find this record while you’re at it.
Keep your mind open.
[I’d be under the spell of joy if you subscribed.]
Hemerith, the new two-song EP from Lyon, France’s Praÿ, packs a lot into its running time of just over twenty-four minutes. The first track, “Faithless Goddess,” is like an orc war song from a future where orcs fight druids in a post-apocalyptic nuclear wasteland. The three members (drummer Antoine Berthet-Bondet, guitarist Maud Gibbons, and bassist Jason Rols) move back and forth from the lead without shoving each other around the room, and it sounds to me like the track has some krautrock influence with its beats and structure, which I don’t mind at all.
“Widow of Light” might be the name of the next villain I create for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. It starts out as a mellow affair, not unlike a sleepy grizzly awakening from hibernation and stepping out into the sun for the first time in months. Gibbons’ guitar takes on a faster pace, and soon her bandmates are chugging along behind her as they storm along a rolling river with the grizzly leading the charge while a raven cackles overhead.
This is just a sample of the power Praÿ can produce. You can get lost in this, even though it’s only a two-song EP.
Stockholm, Sweden based trio Spelljammer share the first single from their forthcoming album Abyssal Trip today. Hear and share “Lake” via YouTube, Bandcamp and Spotify.
“The vastness of everything is something that I think about a lot,” says Spelljammer bassist/vocalist Niklas Olsson. And it certainly shows in both the expansive, sludgy sounds and contemplative lyrics of the Stockholm, Sweden based trio. Following a 5-year break between their previous album, Ancient of Days — perhaps fittingly spent pondering said vastness — Spelljammer is back with an album that perfectly bridges the band’s earlier desert rock leanings and their later massive, slow-burning riffs.
Abyssal Trip (note: carefully re-read that album title) takes its moniker from the perpetually dark, cold, oxygen-free zone at the bottom of the ocean. The 6-song, 44-minute album fittingly embodies that bleak realm with rumbling, oozing guitars intercut with dramatic melodic interludes. The songs take their time to unfurl, making them even more hypnotic. Likewise, the lyrics take a poetic approach to establishing the sonic scenery.
“The lyrical themes we address, like the ultimate doom of man, and the search and longing for new and better worlds, are still there,” Olsson says. “The concept of something undiscovered out there in vast emptiness is pretty much always present.” The recording process for Abyssal Trip differs from previous releases in that the band — guitarist Robert Sörling, drummer Jonatan Rimsbo and Olsson — opted to capture the performances while holed up in the mental bathysphere of a house in the countryside near Stockholm. “The songs benefitted from the relaxed environment of being away from everything,” Olsson explains. Indeed, the album sounds confident and meticulously arranged, afforded by the band’s isolation. Sörling mixed the album and it was mastered by Monolord drummer Esben Willems at Berserk Audio.
Album opener “Bellwether” begins dramatically with a very slow, nearly minute-long fade in of rumbling distortion setting the stage for heavily distorted bass and guitar plucking out the lugubrious riff for another minute and a half before the drums begin, and likewise equally as long before vocals gurgle to the surface. “Lake” abruptly shifts gears, opening with an unusually fast gallop before rupturing into thundering doom that soon drops into a clean-tone Middle Eastern melodic breakdown. The title track serves as the album centerpiece, opening with ominous film dialogue about blood sacrifice that launches into pummeling, detuned guitars rumbling over gut-punching drums and howling vocals hearkening to the proto-sludge of Pink Floyd’s “The Nile Song.” The dynamic relents briefly for a slow building clean guitar melody before all instruments lock into a jerking riff topped off by a trilling Iommi style lead. Throughout, Abyssal Trip is, just like its title suggests, an epic tour through desolate zones which yields much to discover.
Abyssal Trip will be available everywhere on LP, CD and download on February 26th, 2021 via RidingEasy Records.
If you’re thinking, “Wait…John Dwyer put out another Oh Sees record and a new Damaged Bugalbum in the same year?”, well, you don’t know the half of it. Dwyer is one of the most prolific musicians out there and the COVID-19 pandemic gave him plenty of time to create and release new music. Protean Threat is one of six releases from Oh Sees / Osees this year, starting with this album, then the live Levitation Sessions album, then an EP (Metamorphosed), two singles (“Dark Weald” and “Blood on Your Boots”), and a remix of Protean Threat called Panther Rotate. They’re also doing another live session on December 19th, 2020 that will be recorded and released before the year’s end – so that brings their total to seven (and, again, eight for Dwyer thanks to Bug on Yonkers). Much like a live Oh Sees show, they don’t give you much time to rest.
The first track alone on Protean Threat, “Scramble Suit II,” is a machine gun attack right out of the gate with wild beats, weird synths, and wuzzy-fuzzy guitars that knock you off balance before you realize what’s happening. “Dreary Nonsense” is like something you’d hear while barreling down the street in Dick Dastardly’s race car. Dwyer’s guitars are like security alarms blaring after a break-in at a munitions depot. “Upbeat Ritual” adds a sprinkle of jazz-psych to the mix as Paul Quattrone and Dan Rincon‘s double-drumming moves to front and center and Tim Hellman puts down a simple bass line that is deceptively masterful. Hellman knows when to push the fuzz and when to keep it simple in order to produce maximum effect.
On “Red Study,” for example, his bass work gets more complex as Dwyer’s guitar comes in like a curious hornet (sometimes sounding like a saxophone) and Tim Dolas‘ synths sound like an Indian snake charmer coaxing a cobra out of a basket. “Terminal Jape” pushes the fuzz to the limit as Dwyer yells / sings, “The system has been thrown around…The system has been broken down.” That’s among the truest lyrics of 2020. “Wing Ruin” is a cool instrumental track that reminds me of some of Frank Zapppa‘s work with some early Genesis thrown in for good measure.
“Said the Shovel” starts off with a sweet groove from Hellman and the Rincon-Quattrone duo getting all jazzy on us, which is pretty damn cool. “Mizmuth” dollops bloopy synths atop angry praying mantis guitar sounds. “If I Had My Way” is a fun jam with the whole band locking into a tight groove and bringing us along for a fun ride. “Toadstool” swaggers like a drunk vampire.
Someone ringing the “Gong of Catastrophe” could explain the debacle that is 2020. Dwyer sings about “the crumbling of the spires that you thought you knew so well.” COVID-19 has forced many to confront impermanency, whether they like it or not. “Canopnr ’74” has a weird rhythm that is hard to explain. It’s a fine example of Rincon and Quattrone’s complimentary percussion. The album ends with the raucous “Persuaders Up!” I’m not sure how the band keeps up with each other, because each member seems to be trying to outrace everyone else.
Thee Oh Sees are firing on all cylinders right now. Their future live shows in front of crowds are going to be even more off the chain than before if this album is any indication.
Michael Yonkers is an outsider musician who has plenty of legend and mystery floating around him – he built all his own gear, he was in constant pain from a spinal injury, and that he invented drone rock in the late 1960s and early 1970s before anyone knew what it was.
This kind of stuff is gold to music lovers like yours truly and John Dwyer of Damaged Bugand Osees. Dwyer decided to record an entire Damaged Bug album covering Yonkers’ music. The result, Bug on Yonkers, is a great tribute to Yonkers’ work and unveils how much of an influence the man is on Dwyer’s work.
Starting with a synth-driven ballad of “Goodby Sunball” (the title track to Yonkers’ 1974 album), Dwyer and frequent collaborator Brigid Dawson sing about not understanding life and existence (and knowing it must and will continue). Their cover of “I Tried” is a fuzzy, slightly sloppy, and groovy delight (with Dwyer playing flute at one point) and lyrics about trying to salvage a relationship that’s doomed to failure because the other half has given up on it. “Just take your slippers out from under my bed, and never let me see you alive or dead.” Insert mic drop here.
“Microminiature Love” moves along with a garage rock swagger propelled by the bass line Dwyer lays down and the steady, sweaty beats by Nick Murray. “Sold America” is sweet psychedelia with big synths and even bigger cymbal crashes and drum fills. “The Thunder Speaks” is the biggest rocker on the record. It’s a wall of solid grooves coming at you with only a few moments for breath.
“Sunflower” is a much quieter affair, with Dawson taking the lead on vocals and Brad Caulkins playing a jazz saxophone that almost sounds like it wandered in from another song. “Lovely Gold” (the title track to Yonkers’ 2010 album) is a mix of synthwave, psychedelic rock, and barely contained mania. In other words, it’s great. “Smile a While” mixes toms, cymbals, synth warps, and plenty of reverb for a trippy track. The album closes with “In My Heart,” a lovely track of psych-folk that hums like a happy bumblebee buzzing along a California beach while whales surface on the sunlit horizon.
This record will make you search for Yonkers’ material, as any good tribute album should. It’s also a fine addition to Damaged Bug’s catalogue and John Dwyer’s library.
Keep your mind open.
[I tried to get you to subscribe. Will I be successful this time?]
As the story goes, Columbus, Ohio punk legends New Bomb Turks were musing over how to celebrate the 20th anniversary of their Nightmare Scenario album, and wondered if the album’s original engineer, Jim Diamond, still had the master tapes from the four-day recording session in Detroit. It turns out that he did, and NBT discovered they were as raw and rowdy as they’d hoped. The result is the “Diamond Edition” of the album, and it’s a welcome birthday gift for all of us.
Opener “Point A to Point Blank” grabs you by the collar and tosses you into the mosh pit with its furious drumming by Sam Brown and Jim Weber‘s guitar is the sound of a nitro-burning funny car launching off the line. “Automatic Teller” has Eric Davidson singing about his girl “always come runnin’ every payday” to turn him into an ATM while the rest of the band goes bonkers with tight punk riffs. Matt Reber‘s bass line on it is a thing of wonder.
“End of the Great Credibility Race” has, apart from a great title, slick back and forth vocals between Davidson and his bandmates in-between all the powerful riffs. Davidson encourages Brown to “go as fast as you fuckin’ wanna go” on “Too Much,” which packs more punk pedal-to-the-metal punch into a minute and three seconds than most songs three times that length.
“Killer’s Kiss” throws down a sweet groove and is a good display of NBT’s diversity. They can unleash blazing punk licks and garage rock grooves with equal talent. It’s one of their best traits. “Continental Cats” is another fine example of how NBT love to find and lock into a groove now and then, but without letting off the gas and fuzz pedals. “Spanish Fly by Night” displays another NBT talent – wordplay. They have some of the wittiest and sharpest lyrics of any punk rock band you’ll find.
“The Roof” is a solid song about being stuck in a dead end town and wishing for greener pastures elsewhere. The “rough mix” of “Your Beaten Heart” is a neat addition. It’s cool to hear the early, raw version of this. “Turning Tricks” has a wild, swaggering flair to it – as you’d want from a song with that title – and I love how Reber’s bass shoves its way to the front now and then on the track.
There’s no way NBT could’ve predicted in 2000 that “Wine & Depression” could be a theme song for 2020, but here we are and here it is in all its punch-drunk, bottle-smashing punk glory. “Quarter to Four” combines NBT’s punk chops with their groove power to create a solid closer that leaves you sweaty and nearly out of breath as they sing about existential dread: “Close my eyes, I don’t wanna see. Sun’s comin’ up on my history.” Good grief, that’s some gut punch stuff right there. The Diamond Edition ends with “Theme from Nightmare Scenario” – an instrumental garage rock track that would make The Stooges proud.
By the way, all proceeds from the sale of Nightmare Scenario: Diamond Edition go to the Black Queer and Intersectional Collective and Columbus Freedom Fund – two great causes – so it’s a win-win for you and them. Don’t hesitate to snag this.
Laying down roots at Oberlin College before officially becoming a band in Chicago last year, it has not take Moontype long to start turning heads. Despite having no music online, the three piece (composed of singer/bassist Margaret McCarthy, guitarist Ben Cruz and drummer Emerson Hunton) began playing in their adoptive city in 2019 with only a pair of Bandcamp demos to their name and quickly started appearing on bills with buzzing acts like Strange Ranger, Horsejumper of Love and Paear. This led to them capturing the attention of the rising Chicago label Born Yesterday (helmed by Deeper‘s Kevin Fairbairn and the increasingly ubiquitous engineer Greg Obis), who have recently garnered an expanding national profile with releases from DIY circuit up and comers Landowner and Cafe Racer. Today, Moontype are announcing their signing to the label with their single “Ferry” which is premiering via The FADER.
WATCH: Moontype’s “Ferry” video on YouTube // FADER
The track, described by FADER as “a gauzy Midwest fantasy,” is an arresting example of Moontype’s sound, one that is startlingly fully-realized for a band who have yet to release their first album, and of a songwriter in McCarthy with a rare ability to communicate her perspective with a relatable clarity and a transporting depth. There are suggestions of the intimate songwriterly-ness of Tomberlin or Lomelda, blended with the sweeping, technically-minded indie of Built To Spill, and even hints of the downbeat grandeur of Mazzy Star in a track that sees McCarthy relate the alienating feeling of a gradually dissipating friendship. Immediately engaging and emotionally acute, it’s the kind of sure-handed first offering that provides a tantalizing suggestion of what’s to come from an extremely promising new band.
“‘Ferry’ is a song about the loss of friendship, not when it breaks apart quickly and devastatingly but when it slowly unravels and you watch it go,” McCarthy explains to FADER. “3 or 4 of my friendships made their way into this song. I think about a friend who was about to go on a two-year long tour, and I started to drift away from him months before he actually left – a trick the mind plays to make the break less painful. Your friend leaves and afterwards you’re left with these visceral memories – running around the city at night, drinking whiskey in the alley – and in memory form those experiences gain potency, like ‘ah that was really living, and what I have now is nothing.’ And that vivid memory stands in high contrast to the way their entire personhood is slowly fading from your mind, you forget how they walk, what kind of jokes they made. And then you’re left with only yourself and you realize that you’ve defined yourself through the relationships you’ve been in, and when those people go away you feel like an empty shell (no snail inside!) and that feeling is enough to make a person say ‘I wanna take the ferry to Michigan! Get me out of this place!’”
