Category: Reviews

Review: All Them Witches – Nothing As the Ideal

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.

Keep your mind open.

[It would be ideal if you subscribed.]

Review: Death Valley Girls – Under the Spell of Joy

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.]

Review: Praÿ – Hemerith

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.

Keep your mind open.

[I pray you’ll subscribe.]

[Thanks to Jason of Praÿ.]

Review: Oh Sees – Protean Threat

If you’re thinking, “Wait…John Dwyer put out another Oh Sees record and a new Damaged Bug album 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.

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe before you split.]

Review: Damaged Bug – Bug on Yonkers

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 Bug and 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?]

Review: New Bomb Turks – Nightmare Scenario: Diamond Edition (2020 reissue)

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.

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe before you split.]

Review: Hum – Inlet

Everyone knows that 2020 has been a crappy year, but there have been some pleanst surprises this year: Drive-ins made a spectacular comeback, pets adoptions skyrocketed, Dungeons and Dragons became more popular than it has been since the early 1990s, Crayola released crayons with colors that better reflect all the different skin tones in the world, people saved money, read books, and learned how to cook again.

Also, Hum released a new album – Inlet.

For those of you unaware, Hum are a heavy shoegaze / space rock band who released four albums between 1991 and 1998. Their single, “Stars,” from the 1995 album You’d Prefer an Astronaut, was a mainstay of MTV and modern rock radio at the time. They were one of those bands that everyone found intriguing, but who somewhat disappeared after poor sales of their 1998 album, Downward Is Heavenward, and their touring van getting wrecked in 2000. There were occasional reunion shows now and then, but they were few and far between. Then, Inlet was released on June 23, 2020 and floored everyone.

It quickly proved that Hum hadn’t lost any of their power. Opener “Waves” unleashes a wall of sound in the first thirty seconds as lead singer / rhythm guitarist Matt Talbott (whose voice seems to have not aged a day) sings about the power of nature and drummer Bryan St. Pere sounds like he’s beating his snare drum through the floor. The loud, heavy, yet clear sound bassist Jeff Dimpsey gets on “In the Den” is a thing of wonder. It carries the track while Tablott and lead guitarist Tim Lash unleash electric guitar chugging like two growling tugboats pulling a barge loaded with UFO parts.

Dimpsey’s bass somehow gets heavier on “Desert Rambler” – which is over nine minutes of fuzzy, shimmering space rock. “Where is the bottom? I wouldn’t know,” Talbott sings. This seems to be about depression and heartbreak, but it could also be about whatever’s inside a cosmic wormhole. The song reminds me of alien landscapes drawn by Moebius.

“Step into You” is the shortest song on the album at just over four minutes in length, but it’s no less fuzzy. The lads in Hum have this amazing ability to create a sense of gravity being in flux around you with their sound. It’s difficult to describe, but it almost becomes tactile when you hear it. “The Summoning” ups the buzz-saw guitars so they sound like a swarm of super-intelligent bees.

It seems appropriate that they have a song called “Cloud City” on the album since many of the tracks seem to lift you into the upper atmosphere and beyond. “I don’t feel anything,” Talbott sings, perhaps because he’s weightless by this point from the sheer power of he and the rest of Hum are generating to get to escape velocity.

“I want to stay next to you. I don’t remember your name. Do you feel the tremors here?” Talbott asks on “Folding” – a soaring song about love and knowing when to let go of it when it’s gone. The song melts into a psychedelic whale song-like drone for over a minute at the end. Lash really gets to strut his stuff (as if he hasn’t been throughout the entire record) on the closer, “Shapeshifter,” which has him flying like an eagle over a barren desert one moment and then roaring across that same desert in an experimental rocket car the next.

It’s a stunning record and a welcome return from Hum. It’s a wonderful escape from the chaos of 2020. Put on your headphones, sit in a place where you can watch nature, and let it do the rest.

Keep your mind open.

[I’d hum a happy tune if you subscribed.]

Review: Windhand – Levitation Sessions

It’s difficult to capture the power of Windhand live, but the Reverb Appreciation Society‘s druids did a good job of it with the Virginian doom metal band’s Levitation Sessions.

Garrett Morris‘ opening guitar riffs on “Old Evil” are like the sound of a dragon awakening from a slumber in a dormant volcano. Dorthia Cottrell‘s vocals are the voice of the sorceress awakening said dragon, Ryan Wolfe‘s drums are the sides of the volcano breaking away as the dragon stretches its wings, and Parker Chandler‘s bass is the growling of the beast’s hungry, fiery belly. This heavy and hypnotizing sound is one that Windhand does well, and it’s a chilling experience.

“Diablerie,” a song about the machinations of evil beings, sounds like a swarm of black cloaked hornets. Cottrell’s vocals fade between the front and back of the song, not unlike a mist you see and feel around you but cannot grasp. Morris’ solo is like a falling star you manage to glimpse through a break in the mist before it hits the Earth and creates a shockwave for miles.

There’s a little time to breathe before “First to Die,” and I love the way Cottrell chose to sing the vocals on this version. She takes to a quieter (but not by much, mind you) approach and lets Chandler’s bass and Wolfe’s drums carry the red dwarf star matter-heavy weight of the track. The live version of “Forest Clouds” on this recording gives me chills every time I hear it. Every. Time. It’s like walking in a dark wetlands at the bottom of a cemetery hill filled with cloaked figures who may or may not be ghosts. It creeps along for nearly eleven minutes and can be unsettling to the uninitiated.

“Three Sisters” (with horror movie keyboard riffs from Jonathan Kassalow) layers the reverb on Cottrell’s vocals and Morris’ guitar to make them sound like siren and whale songs bouncing off sharp rocks. Chandler and Wolfe keep the rhythm simple and brooding throughout it, not unlike the Telltale Heart. The opening guitar squall of “Grey Garden” is practically the sound of a wrought iron gate being wrenched open on a tomb, which is appropriate for a song about death and reincarnation.

“I miss the feeling of the landslide, shaking the dust off my skin,” Cottrell sings on “Orchard” – a dark song about even darker things that lie waiting for us beyond the veil (if we choose to give them power, that is). The album ends with another eleven-minute stunner – “Cossack.” There’s enough sludge in it to make you feel like you’re wading through a swamp to battle a shambling mound with an obsidian sword you found in an abandoned dwarfish mine. It slows to the pace of a kaiju monster stomping across the countryside around the eight-minute mark.

It’s another excellent Levitation Session and a fine addition to Windhand‘s catalogue. Not even 2020 can keep their power at bay.

Keep your mind open.

[Levitate over to the subscription box while you’re here.]

Review: Khruangin – LateNightTales

When asked to make their own LateNightTales compilation, Khruangbin decided to make it as much a showcase of international talent as possible. The result is a luxurious musical trip around the globe.

Opening track “Illuminations” by Devadip Carlos Santana and Turiya Alice Coltrane is like the opening theme to an exotic romance / adventure film with it’s luscious harp strings, playful violins, and simple piano and guitar chords. “I Know That (When the Spring Time Comes)” by Brilliantes Del Vuelo is robotic dub with thick bass, reverbed hand percussion, and vocals that sound like a Star Wars droid. “Khushi” by Nazia Hassan is Middle Eastern disco with neon synths and a slick hand percussion beat.

Kelly Doyle‘s “DRM” is full of thumping electro-bass and fun, slightly off-kilter beats. The bass gets fatter on Sanullim‘s “Don’t Go” – a track that will go directly onto your disco and / or funk playlists. Maxwell Udoh‘s “I Like It (Don’t Stop)” is more slick disco and David Marez‘s “Enséñame” has big brass horns that Portishead would love to sample and sharp 1970’s Spanish love song vocals.

Gerald Lee‘s “Can You Feel the Love (Reprise)” is pure 1970s bedroom rock with sultry female vocals (“Here we are, sitin’ with one another, so alive and so free…”). Justine and the Victorian Punks have a pillow talk conversation over a sweet groove that would be perfect for strutting your stuff down a runway. George Yanagi and Nadja Band then saunter into the room with a Japanese slow jam that should be on any turntable in the Land of the Rising Sun if you plan on any nocturnal mixers there.

Russian lounge jazz follows that. Khruangbin slide into the mix next with a cover of Kool and the Gang‘s “Summer Madness” that is so smooth that you almost slip on it as it oozes out of your speakers and settles on the floor around you. Paloma San Basilio‘s “Contigo” has playful female vocals backed with R&B bass and wicked high hat work. The horn section on the Roha Band‘s “Yetikimt Abeba” is top-notch, knowing when to move to the front and when to stay out of the way of the vocals and effortless beat. The album ends with a spoken word piece by Tierney Malone and Geoffrey Muller. It’s a love poem that sounds like it’s from space (and, after all, much of the poem is about the speaker chasing after his love who has left the Earth) with simple banjo plucks and space transmission beeps.

It’s a lovely compilation and one that will make you seek out a lot of these artists, as any compilation should do. Hats off to Khruangbin for putting it together for us.

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe before you split.]

[Thanks to Sam at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Review: Badge Époque Ensemble – Self Help

Maximilian Turnbull, the frontman for Toronto’s Badge Époque Ensemble, describes their new album, Self Help, as “combining jazz-funk and mysticism.” I don’t think I can describe it better than that.

“Sing a Silent Gospel” starts off the album with something like a Steely Dan tune with its great saxophone work by Karen Ng and bright keyboards from Turnbull. “Unity (It’s Up to You)” is a funky jam with neat vocal harmonies backed by Jay Anderson‘s tight drumming any hip hop DJ would envy. “The Sound Where My Head Was” has a neat 1970s sound to it with Turnbull’s keys and Giosuè Rosati‘s putting down a retro groove.

A lovely flute solo starts “Just Space for Light” and then it melts into a beautiful song about embracing love and light – and more great flute solos from Alia O’Brien. “Birds Fly through Ancient Ruins” is almost eleven minutes of psychedelic jazz that is suitable for meditation, yoga, creating any kind of art, or even belly dancing as Chris Bezant plays dusty western guitar and Ed Squires‘ hand percussion lulls you into a trance. Ng’s sax solo is like something you’d hear in the distance while you find yourself trapped in a film noir.

Turnbull’s smooth piano carries us through the closer, “Extinct Commune,” with hopeful chords to uplift you and give you some of that self-help mentioned in the album’s title.

Self Help is indeed a good title for this album, as that jazz-funk / mysticism combination does you well. It helps you shake cobwebs out of your head and refocus. We all need that this year.

Keep your mind open.

[It’s up to you to subscribe.]

[Thanks to Jessica at Pitch Perfect PR.]